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Well, murmured Ehomba, since we just arrived in your country, there is no
way we could know what constitutes approved thinking and what does not, now
could we? I have never heard of such a thing.
Hoy, that s true, Simna concurred self-righteously. How can you arrest us
for violating some ordinance we know nothing about?
I am only following orders. I was told to bring you to the rectory. His
fingers hovered close to his sword, and those behind him tensed. On the far
side of the tavern, two couples departed in haste without paying their bill.
The owner, a petrified expression on his face, did not go after them.
Simna s jaw tightened and his own hand started to shift, but Ehomba raised a
hand to forestall him. Of course we will go with you.
The swordsman gaped at him. We will?
We do not want any trouble. And I would like to know who has been reading our
thoughts, and how.
Well, I wouldn t.
Then stay. Ehomba waked Ahlitah, whose unexpected and suddenly looming
presence swiftly wiped the complacent smiles from the faces of the police
contingent. After whispering an explanation to the big cat, it nodded once and
ambled out from behind the table. The police drew back farther, but at a sign
from their leader kept their weapons holstered and sheathed.
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I m glad you ve decided to cooperate. The officer nodded in the big cat s
direction and invoked a grateful smile. Very glad.
We have just arrived here and we do not want to make any trouble. Ehomba
started toward the door.
Let us go to this rectory and see what is wanted of us.
Simna hesitated, growled something nasty under his breath, then picked up his
own pack and followed, falling in beside his friend. You better know what
you re doing, he whispered as the police escorted them out onto the street
and turned left. I don t like jails.
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Into the Thinking Kingdoms: Journeys of the Catechist, Book 2
The herdsman barely glanced in his companion s direction. He was much more
interested in their new surroundings and in the people who were staring back
at him than in the swordsman s complaints. The citizens of the Dukedom were
wholly human; no other simians here. No intelligent apes and orangs, chimps or
bonobos. To his way of thinking it rendered the otherwise imposing town a
poorer place.
Striding along importantly in the forefront, the police official led them
through the streets, past stores and restaurants, apartments and workshops,
until they crossed a neatly paved square to halt outside the towering wooden
door of a large stone structure. It was decorated with finely sculpted
portraits of men and women holding all manner of articles upon which writing
had been incised. There were tablets and scrolls, bare slabs of rock, and
thickly bound books. The graven expressions of the statues bespoke ancient
wisdom and the accumulation of centuries of knowledge.
Other signatures of learning festooned the building: chemical apparatus and
tools whose function was unknown to Ehomba, mathematical signs and symbols,
human figures raising bridges and towers and other structures all indicating a
reverence for knowledge and erudition. For the endemic songbirds and parrots
the multiplicity of sculptures provided a nesting ground that verged on the
paradisiacal.
Simna was openly mystified. This doesn t have the look or feel of any jail I
ever spent time in.
You are especially knowledgeable in that area? Ehomba inquired dryly.
Hoy, sure! the swordsman replied cheerfully. Just part of my extensive
résumé of experience.
The herdsman grunted as the door was opened wide by an acolyte clad in a
simple white robe emblazoned with mathematical symbols. We may need to draw
on it. Though prior to this journey I had spent little time in towns, I am
pretty sure that a police escort is not sent forth to escort people anywhere
other than to a jail.
It did not look much like a lockup, however. Simna continued to offer
unsolicited comments on their surroundings as they were marched inside. There
were no cells, no bars, no downcast prisoners shuffling about in irons. The
interior was a fair spiritual and aesthetic reflection of the exterior, with
uncowled monks busy at desks and laboratory tables, delving deep into books or
arguing animatedly about this or that matter of science.
They were taken to a large chamber that was more like a comfortable living
room than a theater of interrogation and directed to seat themselves opposite
an empty, curved table. A trio of monks, two men and one woman all of serious
mien and middle age, marched in. As soon as they took their chairs, the police
official stepped forward and saluted by pressing his open palm to his forehead
and then pulling it quickly away in a broad, sweeping gesture.
Here are the ones you sent us to bring, Exalted Savant.
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