No one knew why the Old Madman knew those two scripts. He was the oldest person here, already living in the town before anyone now in it was born, and it was said that in his youth he had traveled far across the continent. No one knew his exact age either, but he had to be at least a hundred. In an age when people died young so easily, long life was itself an admirable miracle, looked on as a gift from the gods.
After becoming a temple priest, Xiaogu had gained the chance to learn another way of writing those two scripts, called the divine script. It was normally used only on occasions of praising the gods, and common folk were not permitted to learn it — only nobles and priests. The divine script was basically the same as ordinary writing, but its rules of form were special and strict; anyone who had not studied it found it hard to understand. It was said to hold a mysterious power, able to communicate with the gods.
And in the eyes of commoners and slaves, all writing was mysterious, standing for some kind of awe-inspiring symbolic message. Duke Town needed a scribe, and the temple needed a scribe; here, Xiaogu alone filled both posts.
But in the past two years things had shifted somewhat: the Old Madman had taught Amon to write both scripts as well, and once, while drunk, he had said to the mayor, "Our town actually has three scribe posts. Pity so few people can write.
At the very least, having one man serve as priest of both the Muyun Temple and the Temple of Horus is not fitting, and having him double as scribe is even less fitting. Amon is a child favored by the gods.
He has learned to write too, and writes both blade script and brush script well; I guarantee that one day he will be the finest scribe, and a fine priest besides."
What displeased Xiaogu most was that Mayor Dasti had not objected at the time. He had even smiled and said, "Oh? Then Amon truly is a child favored by the gods. When he comes of age, he ought to make a fine scribe."
That left Xiaogu feeling as though a viper were gnawing at his heart. Whenever he thought of some future day when his own power and wealth would be shared out and stripped away by the son of a filthy drunkard, he could barely sleep. And today there was another, more important reason he wanted to deal with Amon in public — it made his teeth itch with hatred.
The legend of the Tears of the Gods was not something only the Eju Empire had. Distinguished lords in distant city-states had long ago sent him secret word, instructing him to keep watch on the godstone produced in Duke Town: if a Tear of the Gods could be obtained, a generous reward would follow. All the godstone that came out of Duke Town was registered by Xiaogu — the most convenient of conditions.
And the Tear of the Gods really had appeared, and he had been one step too late to get it. Even if he had wanted it, he could not have contended with Rod-Dick. This Lord Dick was really something, to be waiting in Duke Town at exactly such a time. Nobody could have predicted it!
Last night, when the Tear of the Gods descended, Xiaogu had sensed it too. He hurried to the area around Amon's house, only to see two fully armed warriors guarding the door; later he saw Lord Dick's scribe come out of the house carrying a golden casket, with two more warriors behind him. By the time Xiaogu went inside, Amon had already left through the back yard. Only a drunken sot was home, and under Xiaogu's sharp questioning it was easy enough to get out of him what had just happened.
Naturally Xiaogu could not — dared not — go and challenge Rod-Dick, but with this chance before him, how could he let Amon off? So early in the morning he had rung the bell at the Muyun Temple to summon the residents. Mayor Dasti had forbidden him to bring up the Tears of the Gods, so he raised another matter instead — and for Amon it was a disaster come out of nowhere.
The residents were stunned for a moment, then began whispering among themselves. Amon had indeed violated the ancient divine decree, but such a thing had never happened in Duke Town before. Learning the miners' craft handed down through the generations required great physical strength; a child too young could hardly manage it.
Even if it had happened at some point in history, presumably no one would have admitted it openly. Mining godstone was hard enough as it was — what was wrong with one more qualified craftsman? So long as the man himself kept quiet, who would dig into the question?
But there in front of the Muyun Temple, under the goddess's solemn gaze, once the temple priest announced it publicly, the nature of the matter turned grave. No one could plead for Amon now, or it would be disrespect to the gods. The divine decree was the same as law.
Seeing that no one dared speak up, Xiaogu cleared his throat and called out loudly, "Mercy is a virtue, but piety and submission toward the gods are virtues too. Amon, are you ready to accept the gods' punishment? ... In the name of the goddess Muyun, how should this child be punished as mercifully as possible?" That last sentence was aimed at everyone present.
Dasti frowned again, plainly displeased. But Xiaogu had clearly arranged things beforehand: a voice in the crowd immediately shouted, "By the rule laid down in the divine decree, cut off one of his fingers — and the merciful priest may decide which one."
Amon's body shuddered; his face went deathly pale, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly, his teeth clenched, saying nothing. His father, though, dropped to his knees and begged in a trembling voice, "Spare Amon! He's only a child, he doesn't understand what he's doing. I taught him — I'm the one who broke the divine decree. The punishment should fall on me."
Voices in the crowd softly echoed him: "Yes, Lord Xiaogu, spare the ignorant child! As penance, let him mine more godstone and offer it to the goddess."
Xiaogu acted as if he had not heard. He raised both hands and pressed them downward to quiet the people again, then, in a calm and cold tone, looked at Amon and asked, "Amon, when you were learning the miners' craft, did you know the guardian god's decree? Child though you are, as a resident of Duke Town you should have known it from childhood."
As he spoke, he was thinking to himself — Which of Amon's fingers should I cut off?
Mayor Dasti at his side gave a light cough, feeling that he ought to say something now. But just then a voice outside the crowd shouted, "Whose ignorance is this, really? Priest, it is you who have forgotten the divine decree. This fortunate child has not violated it!"
Everyone was startled. Xiaogu looked up and saw a young man come striding through the crowd. He was about twenty-odd years old, wearing a very clean white cloth robe and a wreath of fresh branches on his head. Xiaogu had seen this man before — not a resident of Duke Town; he had come a few days ago with Rod-Dick, an adviser greatly respected by Lord Dick, said to be a wandering sage from the far continent, by the name of Aristotle.
Mayor Dasti spoke up: "Master Aristotle, what brings you here? Has Lord Dick some instruction for us?"
Aristotle smiled and nodded. "I came to run a small errand for Lord Dick and happened to see what has befallen this child. Honored Mayor, might I ask this priest a few questions?"
Dasti nodded politely. "Ask whatever you like, Master Aristotle."
Xiaogu was puzzled, unsure what this young man who had appeared so suddenly meant to ask him, and even less sure why he would speak for Amon — or how he could possibly do it. Aristotle smiled, nodded to the mayor, then looked at Xiaogu and asked calmly, "Priest, in the name of the goddess in the temple behind you, answer me honestly: according to the divine decree handed down here through the generations, only with the guardian goddess's approval and blessing can one learn this place's unique miners' craft — is that correct?"
Xiaogu nodded gravely. "Yes, sir. I answer you in the goddess's name: that is exactly so."
Aristotle nodded again and went on, "And this child has learned the craft you speak of — is that so?"
Xiaogu nodded without thinking. "Yes, that is so."
Without waiting for him to say more, Aristotle raised his voice: "Then this child has already received the guardian god's approval and blessing — has he not?"
Xiaogu was briefly thrown. He retorted loudly, "No! He violated the divine decree — that is why he must be punished!"
Aristotle gave a cold snort and still answered at full volume, "No — the one who has forgotten the true spirit of the divine decree is you, Priest! Only with the guardian god's approval and blessing can one learn this craft: that is the decree. Without the guardian god's approval and blessing, it cannot be learned — and this child has learned it. That is proof enough that he has the guardian god's approval and blessing. ... If you wish to deny this, Priest, then you are denying the divine decree!"
Now it was not only Xiaogu who was dumbstruck; everyone watching was. The miners of Duke Town, who for generations had dealt with sledgehammer and furnace fire — what did they know of the argumentation of sages from the far continent?
Xiaogu was struck dumb, not knowing how to answer. Some said the temple was the last place where reason needed to be spoken, because the divine decree was law and brooked no dispute; yet at the same time, under the gaze of the gods, it was also the place where reason most needed to be spoken — with reverence and care, with every word expressing faith in and respect for the gods.
Seeing the crowd's baffled faces, Aristotle smiled, raised a hand, pointed at Xiaogu and said, "All people are mortal — this is the will of god, the major premise. Obviously, he is a man — the minor premise. Therefore he will die — the conclusion. Do you not all follow?"
Then he pointed at Amon and said, "Only with the guardian god's approval and blessing can one learn the craft you speak of — this is the divine decree, the major premise. Obviously, this child has learned the craft — the minor premise. Therefore he has received the guardian god's approval and blessing — the conclusion. Is anything wrong with that? ... Do you all understand?"
With an analogy like that, it was easy enough to follow. Many faces lit with sudden understanding, and people nodded. Others grew only more confused, feeling there was something off in Aristotle's words but unable to say just where. Xiaogu's face gradually swelled to the color of pork liver, while Mayor Dasti's expression was a little comical — he seemed to want very much to laugh, and to be forcing himself not to.
"But he never underwent the rite of the god's approval and blessing — that breaks the rule!" Xiaogu finally shouted, unwilling to yield, though there was a thread of weakness in his voice.
"No. Amon has received the approval and blessing of the goddess Muyun. The one the goddess has rejected and warned is none other than this town's priest — you, Lord Xiaogu! ... And this, I can prove." As he spoke, the Old Madman Nietzsche came forward, swinging a walking stick before him and parting the crowd.
The Old Madman was very old; his hair and beard were a tangled gray-white mess, and he walked with a swaying, unsteady gait that somehow did not look weak — it looked like a child learning to toddle. His stick was dark brown, striped with messy gold, and he did not lean on it for support but waved it about in his hand.
Nietzsche brushed past Aristotle, and even turned to look back at the young sage with a complicated expression — admiration, scrutiny, interrogation all at once — then turned and planted himself in front of Xiaogu, shoulder to shoulder with Amon, and gestured with his stick: "Three years ago, in a dream, I received a decree from the goddess Muyun: She blessed Amon, and granted him leave to learn the miners' craft handed down through Duke Town's generations. The boy's craft was not taught to him by his father — I taught him."
Xiaogu stepped back a pace. "And how can you prove that?"
The Old Madman laughed, leveled his stick at the tip of Xiaogu's nose, and said, "Priest, what has blinded your soul? Pray and repent before the goddess, for the god has already proven it! Did you not hear this gentleman's words?"