That was the entire point of Archbishop Wyllym’s Ascher Decree.
“What, precisely, has he done?”
“Up until the last five-day or so, he’s restricted himself to quoting scripture—especially from Bédard—that emphasizes the godly responsibility to show mercy wherever possible. It’s been pretty plain from context that he’s speaking directly about the new Decrees and the degree to which the Inquisition’s been required to become more … proactive. But yesterday one of our agents inquisitor brought in a broadside that’s almost certainly from Graingyr’s press, and it directly criticizes the Grand Inquisitor.”
“How are you sure it’s from his press? And what sort of criticism?”
“One of the ‘e’s in his type case appears to have a very distinctive flaw, My Lord. There are three other letters with less easily identifiable flaws, and two of them turned up in the same broadside.” Blantyn shook his head. “My people can positively say this broadside and the earlier ones we believe he posted were printed on the same press. Without actually seizing his type case, we can’t prove he’s the one who set them, but if we’re correct that he printed the originals here in the borough office files, then he printed this one, too.”
Blantyn paused until the bishop inquisitor nodded, then continued.
“As for the criticism, it’s not really what I’d consider blatant. He begins by suggesting the Inquisition may have been ‘betrayed into excessive severity’ by the ‘undeniable severity of the crisis Mother Church confronts.’ Then he quotes from the Book of Bédard—Bédard 8:20, to be exact—and suggests that the Inquisition has forgotten that ‘there is no quality more beloved to God than that of mercy.’” The priest shrugged. “To that point, he hasn’t strayed any farther into dangerous waters than he’s already been. But then he suggests that the Grand Inquisitor has ‘allowed his personal ire and anger’ to lead him into ‘intemperate actions’ and into forgetting Langhorne 3:27.”
Ohygyns’ nostrils flared as the words of the twenty-seventh verse of the third chapter of the Book of Langhorne ran through his mind. See that you fail not in this charge, for an accounting shall be demanded of you, and every sheep that is lost will weigh in the balance of your stewardship.
Under the circumstances, there couldn’t be much doubt what this Graingyr was implying.
“What else do we know about him?” he asked after a moment.
“We have a lay inquisitor inside his circle of acquaintance, My Lord. I wouldn’t call him the most reliable source we have,” Blantyn held out his right hand and waggled it in a so-so gesture, “but he’s usually fairly dependable. And according to him, Graingyr will be meeting with several like-minded friends the day after tomorrow to finalize a petition of some sort. Apparently, once the wording’s been agreed to, Graingyr will produce a couple of hundred copies to circulate for signatures.”
“And does this lay inquisitor know what that wording is likely to include?”
“He thinks he does, My Lord,” Blantyn said in a tone that sounded very like a sigh. “If he’s right, then the petition in question will be directed not to Vicar Zhaspahr but to Vicar Rhobair and it will request Vicar Rhobair to ‘bring some solace’ to the families and loved ones of those ‘apparently arrested’ by the Inquisition. And it will request him to ‘lead the Inquisition into an exercise of that quality of mercy beloved of the Archangel Bédard.’”
Ohygyns’ face settled into stone. A mere bishop inquisitor wasn’t supposed to know about the complex, competing currents swirling at the very heart of the vicarate. He wasn’t supposed to know that there actually was a ‘Group of Four,’ for example, or that the Grand Inquisitor had ample reason to distrust the iron at Rhobair Duchairn’s core. For himself, Ohygyns understood exactly why the poor of Zion, in particular, had taken to calling Duchairn “the Good Shepherd.” For that matter, he couldn’t fault the vicar’s obvious determination to discharge his shepherd’s office among God’s sheep. But there was a time and place for everything, and at this moment, with the Jihad going so poorly and the Fist of Kau-Yung becoming ever more brazen, anything that suggested Duchairn and the Grand Inquisitor might be at odds could be deadly dangerous. And, he acknowledged unwillingly, if they truly were at odds, anything that strengthened Duchairn’s standing in the eyes of Zion’s citizens at Vicar Zhaspahr’s expense might be even more dangerous.
“Our lay inquisitor knows when this meeting is to take place?”
“Yes, My Lord. There are only ten or twelve of them, and they plan to meet at Graingyr’s Ramsgate Square shop.”
“In that case,” Ohygyns said unhappily, “I suppose we should do something about them.”
* * *
“—so I think we need to be as forceful as we can,” Gahlvyn Pahrkyns said, tapping his finger emphatically on the frame of the printing press.
“I don’t think ‘forceful’ is what we want to be where the Grand Inquisitor’s concerned,” Krystahl Bahrns objected. “He’s the one specifically charged to protect the Holy Writ and Mother Church. Even if we think the Inquisition’s being … too rigorous, he deserves to be addressed with the respect God and Langhorne would want us to show him.”
“I see your point, Krys,” Sebahstean Graingyr said. “On the other hand, I see Gahlvyn’s, too.” He frowned, his thin, scholar’s face intent. Then he held up his right hand, ink-smudged index finger extended. “I guess what we really need to be is as forceful as we can without showing any disrespect.”
“That’s likely to be a hard line to walk,” Krystahl argued. “I think we’d be far better served leaving the Grand Inquisitor—specifically—out of the petition entirely. We can ask Vicar Rhobair to investigate and intervene, assuming intervention’s in order, without ever directly attacking the Grand Inquisitor.”
“I’m not talking about attacking Vicar Zhaspahr, for Langhorne’s sake!” Pahrkyns said. “But people are disappearing, Krystahl. We don’t even know what’s happening to them! It’s being done in the name of the Inquisition, and Vicar Zhaspahr is the Grand Inquisitor. I don’t see how we can criticize the Inquisition without criticizing him, and if that’s the case, we ought to be forthright about it. Respectful, yes, but we can’t just pretend he doesn’t have anything to do with what his agents inquisitor are doing!”
“That’s my point,” Krystahl replied. “I don’t think we should be criticizing anybody. Not yet. Maybe, if Vicar Rhobair accepts our petition and nothing happens—maybe then actual criticism would be in order. But right now, what we ought to do is ask for explanations, ask to be told what’s happening and why, and humbly petition the Inquisition to temper necessary stringency with mercy.”