C. Brittain - The Witch, the Cathedral

The organist finished with a flourish. As the thunder of music died away, I became aware of Joachim beside me. I had no idea how long he had been there. “It would make someone believe in God even if he didn’t already,” I commented.

He gave me a quick, sideways look. “That is the idea. Come to dinner, and we’ll talk.”

We went out a small side door and around to the back of the cathedral. Here on a quiet cobbled street, at the opposite end of the church from the new construction, the cathedral priests had their houses. As we walked down the street a priest emerged from a covered porch to stare at us. “Father Joachim,” he said in greeting, dipping his head to the dean, but me he glared at as though I had the word WIZARD (or even DEMON) emblazoned on my forehead.

“Father Norbert,” Joachim replied with a nod. When we were past he said in my ear, “Don’t mind him. He’s never had much use for wizards.”

The dean’s house was at the far end. The carved wooden porch and the cathedral looming over the street made the entrance very dark, but as we stepped inside we were greeted by light. Many-paned mullion windows on the far side of the house looked out over a hillside that sloped sharply down toward the river and the tiled roofs of the artisans’ quarter of the city.

A servant in black livery met us. “We’ll just wash up, and then we’ll eat right away,” Joachim told him. “Once we are served, you can leave us.” The servant nodded silently and disappeared.

A senior officer of a cathedral, I thought as I dried my hands, lived fairly well. But good living had not filled out Joachim, and his face was as gaunt as ever. I wondered briefly if I should suspect him of being behind some veiled attack on organized magic-which Brother Norbert appeared ready to join-but I dismissed this. I had known Joachim too long, and, besides, he had asked for my help.

The servant lit the white candles on the table, served us from a large platter, and withdrew, still without a word. As we ate the sky outside the window became gradually dim, and the candle flames seemed to grow brighter and brighter, their light reflected from the polished surface of the woodwork.

“I climbed up the new tower after I talked to you,” I said once I had finished a plateful of chicken. “How did you find those construction workers? It’s terrifying being up on the scaffolding, yet they seem totally fearless. Maybe their long fingers and toes allow them to cling to a surface like tree frogs.”

“I did not hire them myself. Even though I am the elected head of the cathedral chapter, the provost and the chancellor are in charge of the cathedral edifice itself and of raising money to pay for its upkeep. There had already been discussion for years before I arrived about building a new cathedral. The provost had heard good things about this construction crew from the priests of another church on which they had worked.”

“They also aren’t very concerned about the strange lights at night,” I continued. “They come from somewhere far up north, and they seem to consider magical occurrences fairly ordinary. After all, I gather that if one went only a little further than their valley one would reach the land of dragons. And up there it’s all wild magic, not organized and channeled as in the western kingdoms.”

“My colleagues do not like any kind of magic, wild or organized,” said Joachim, a glint in his eye. He paused to refill my wine glass. “I’m sorry if I seemed abrupt earlier. I have a lot on my mind.” Tact had never been his strong point; although he had become no more tactful over the years, at least he worried about it more. “When I told the bishop today I had sent for you, he was very unhappy about bringing a wizard into the affairs of the Church.”

“You can tell him that the wizards at the school weren’t any happier about it,” I said cheerfully.

This seemed to surprise him, but he made no comment. Instead he asked, “And could you tell if the lights at night and the material being moved around on the tower were due to a magic spell?”

“Someone’s certainly been working magic up there. But I’m hoping he may have left with the Romneys.” I told him about the Romney woman’s eagerness to chase the children away and the abrupt departure of the entire camp that afternoon.

“That would indeed solve the problem,” said Joachim thought fully, twirling the stem of his glass and looking somewhere over my head. “But you say the children expected to see something spectacular, as though the last magic worker they had seen had not been a member of their band but an outsider like yourself. They hoped for as good tricks from the new wizard they had just spotted as they had from the last.”

I ignored his implication that my scarlet illusory dragon had been less than spectacular. “If the magician or wizard is still here,” I said, “the most direct approach would be to put a spell on the tower, a magical shield that would keep any further spells from working.”

“And could you do it?”

I knew he’d ask that. “Actually, no. I know such spells are possible, but it’s very advanced magic, and I don’t have my books with me.”

“What else can you do?”

“The other possibility would be to sit on the construction site every night, watching for signs of magical activity, and then go up and confront the magician if he reappears.” Joachim did not answer at once, and I hoped he was not summoning his small supply of tact to ask me to spend the summer with the watchman. “Why are the members of the cathedral chapter so concerned anyway? The crew foreman said it hasn’t been much of a problem. He told me he thought it was Little People.”

Joachim fixed me with his enormous dark eyes. “I thought fairies were just a story.”

“Down here, in the western kingdom, they probably are, but I’d believe anything of the land of dragons.”

“Fairies or wizards,” said Joachim, “it’s sacrilegious. The bishop feels that someone is violating the sanctity of a new edifice that will be consecrated to God.”

“And that’s why he didn’t like it when you sent for me? He felt that being saved by wizardry is scarcely an improvement over being violated by wizardry? I hope you explained to him that bringing in a wizard to deal with a magical problem is much more effective than trying to pray it away. The saints have better things to do than to worry about whether the new cathedral has fairies living in it. Besides, it may even be good for the bishop’s soul to have to deal with magic, and I’m sure the saints know that.”

Joachim gave me a look without answering, having had long practice in ignoring my humor.

“Do you want to go out and see if we can spot the magician tonight?” I asked.

It was now full dark, and we had been slowly finishing the cheese. Joachim pushed back his chair and rose at once. He lit a lantern, and we stepped out his door under the low porch into the street.

“How long is it going to take to finish the cathedral?” I asked. We walked slowly because of the unevenness of the cobble stones; neither the lantern nor the shuttered windows of the other priests’ houses did much to light up the street. Shadows danced crazily around our feet.

“Originally they had spoken of being done within fifteen or at the most twenty years. But I think the provost may have changed his calculations. The workmen are certainly working hard, but there is a limit to how fast anyone can erect that much stonework. Some of the supplies are proving much more expensive than the chancellor had hoped; it’s possible construction may have to stop for a time while we raise more money. It is good that it was decided to leave the old cathedral intact, within the circle of what will be the new one, as long as possible-it may even be generations before the new edifice can be dedicated.” His voice was troubled. Since Joachim was dean, I reminded myself, the cathedral was his as much as Yurt was my kingdom.