It was growing dim under the trees, but Joachim’s eyes were even darker. “He told me that I had his full authority to act, that he was sure the saint would reveal his true purpose to me.”
“And he told you this while these priests were there?”
“Of course,” said Joachim in surprise.
This explained then the three priests’ deference to the Royal Chaplain. It also still sounded as though the bishop was testing him, to discover his true abilities before taking him away from Yurt.
The apprentices apparently expected us. All five stood together at the edge of the road, jostling and whispering as we approached. And all five dropped to their knees before Joachim. He blessed them calmly, resting his hand in turn on each of their shaved heads.
“Father, have they, have those priests, have they come to take away the hermit this time?” the apprentices’ leader asked in a strained voice. My attempts to reassure them, two nights ago, had apparently not helped.
“They’ve not come for your master,” said Joachim. “They’ve come for the relics of Saint Eusebius. I know,” he continued, when all the apprentices gasped in dismay, “that he and you are dedicated to the saint’s service. But it is not yet clear whether they will ultimately take the saint’s relics away with them or leave those relics here. And, even if they do take them, you can follow the relics and the saint to their new home.”
I tried, unsuccessfully, to imagine the old hermit and his ragged apprentices living in the comfortable urban environment from which I was sure the three priests had come. “For now,” I put in, “we would very much appreciate it if you could let us have one of your huts for the night. I hate to keep turning you out. Don’t you have an extra one you use for storage or something? One hut will do for all of us.”
But as it turned out, we ended up turning two of the apprentices out of their huts. They did not sit with us around the fire but rather pressed bread, lettuce, and a jug of goat’s milk into our hands and fled. After a supper made up both of the apprentices’ food and some the priests had brought with them-Joachim drank the goat’s milk but the others wouldn’t-the priests of Saint Eusebius went off to the hut they were sharing, reminding each other that one must not grumble about the experiences God sends.
Joachim and I sat on our horse blankets, spread on the hut’s dirt floor before the fire. I felt that sleeping in a bed and sitting on furniture were a dim memory, something I might once have done in my youth.
IV
It was going to be a dark night; there was no moon, and clouds hid the stars. Yet, almost ashamedly, I felt safer, less as though trapped in a nightmare, with the chaplain there, even though I knew that the Church’s normal reaction to magical problems was to leave them to the wizardry they claimed not even to respect.
Joachim sat staring silently at our small fire. The air from the open doorway made the flames flicker and cast tall, oddly twisted shadows on the wall behind us.
I was suddenly convinced that he was going to ask me if he should accept the bishop’s invitation to leave Yurt and join the cathedral chapter. Because I didn’t want to have to answer that question, I tried to forestall him with a completely different comment.
“Here’s something you’ll be interested in. I know you and the bishop were worried that it might not be suitable to have a wood nymph in a Holy Grove. It turns out that she was a good friend of Saint Eusebius, all those years ago, and that the saint converted her to Christianity.”
Joachim gave me a long look as I pushed on. “It’s actually rather poignant. She’s worried that she may not have a soul. She seems to want to become human, with an immortal soul, even though being human means having to die. I’m afraid she really may not have a soul, because she says her friend the saint has never appeared to her since his death.”
“You know,” said Joachim, “after two years of knowing you, I still don’t understand your sense of humor.”
At this I laughed. It was refreshing to be able to laugh. “Of course you don’t understand why I would make a joke about something like this. It’s because I’m not joking!”
Joachim lifted one eyebrow at my new-found seriousness.
“Even though she will not grow old or die as long as the world remains,” I continued, “she seems to find something curiously appealing about breaking out of the earth’s endless cycle through death.”
“Of course,” said Joachim, who did not find this attitude curious at all. He seemed suddenly absorbed by the issue of the wood nymph, although I was sure that was not what was really on his mind. “The world is God’s creation, and has enormous good and potential for good within it, but it is still a fallen world. All of us must find it wearying in the end and long for release into the realm of spirit.”
I decided it was safest not to comment on this. I was very far from longing for release, and wizards have a much longer life span than ordinary people-even though, from the wood nymph’s point of view, there probably wasn’t a lot of difference between any of us.
“At any rate,” I said, “if the saint’s relics stay in Yurt, I’m sure the bishop will understand why it won’t be necessary to make her leave. But tell me. You said the saint would reveal his will clearly. Do you know what he really wants to do?”
Joachim hesitated. “Maybe I made a mistake discussing this with a wizard in the first place.”
“Too late now,” I said. “And you did say you wanted my counsel.”
The firelight glinted in the chaplain’s eye, and he shifted his long frame in search of a more comfortable position. He was silent for a moment, looking at the fire rather than at me, and his face slowly went from almost smiling to completely sober.
“The saint’s intention,” he said at last, “will, I am certain, eventually become clear, but it is not clear yet.” He paused for a moment. “He told me he wanted to leave Yurt, but he wouldn’t say why, or where he wanted to go. The priests of the church of Saint Eusebius led my bishop to believe that he had also appeared in a vision to them, asking for his relics to be transferred to their church.”
“But when you questioned the priests closely,” I provided when Joachim again seemed to hesitate, “they admitted that the Cranky Saint had said he wanted to leave the grove, but hadn’t specifically said that he wanted to go with them.”
“But if he didn’t want to go to their church, why should he have appeared to
I decided that the old hermit was right in one thing, that the royal chaplain did indeed seem to take his spiritual responsibilities much too seriously. “Because he was cranky,” I suggested. “Because he knew he’d get a response out of them. Because he was angry at the hermit for not having done something about the entrepreneurs. That reminds me. I talked to the hermit this morning, and he seems convinced that Saint Eusebius would want to stay if the entrepreneurs were gone.”
“I didn’t see anyone at the booth when we came by,” said Joachim. “Yet it looks as though they’re actually starting to build a windlass contraption to lower pilgrims down the cliff.”
“Yesterday morning three men dressed as pilgrims-part of the entrepreneurial group in disguise-climbed down by way of the toeholds and came to visit the hermit.”
“Maybe they’ve realized their error in trying to make money from the spiritual things of God,” suggested Joachim.
I found this highly unlikely. “But are the priests planning to take the Holy Toe back with them now?”
“That’s certainly how
“By the way,” I said, “Nimrod seemed surprised to see the three priests. He still won’t say why he came to Yurt.”
“I thought they were instead surprised to see him,” said Joachim. “The sight of a seven-foot-tall huntsman would startle anyone.”
“I’m fairly certain now that Nimrod and Diana had known each other previously. Otherwise I don’t think that even she would have left with him when Dominic had just proposed.”
Outside the hut, the night made low rustling sounds that I told myself would not have sounded nearly as ominous by daylight. We had abruptly reached the topic of the old wizard.
“Joachim, I’m worried about the regent. He took a group of knights down to the old wizard’s house two days
