The Ultimate Stonemage: A Modest Autobiography by Duncan McKenzie

a great commotion in many quarters. In the town, the people said I sought only rank and power through the match, for they said I surely could not be drawn to a woman of the bishopa’s age. This, of course, was nonsense, for I have already spoken of the bishopa’s great beauty.
    It is true she had passed a little over eight decades upon the world, while I had passed only three, but when a woman has such spiritual radiance as was possessed by the bishopa, you may be certain that such matters as her age, and the colour of her hair, and the quantity of her teeth seem trivial indeed.
    And in any event, few would pass comment if a wealthy man of eighty years—or even ninety—took to himself a mistress who was a half-century his junior. Why, then, should the great and holy love between the bishopa and young Yreth be the cause of such enmity? But cause it was, and there was great unrest in the town, stirred largely by the many monks who lived there, who were bitter and frustrated by their vows of celibacy.
    Within the confines of the cathedral, the hatred was of a different kind. All the male bishops detested me with a great passion, for there was not a man among them who would not have gladly taken that lovely bishopa for his own, had the opportunity arisen. And as for the women bishops, I believe it was my attentions they craved, for I was a handsome devil in those days, very tall and strong, with black hair, so when those women saw I had been taken by the bishopa, they hated me out of jealousy. Yet the bishops and the priests dared not insult the bishopa by mocking her age, so instead they selected a different pretext for opposing the affair, speaking many words about the impropriety of a romantic liaison between a member of the clergy and one of her congregation.
    However, the bishopa, in her wisdom, very quickly put an end to this debate, for she raised me to the rank ofarchbishop, which is higher than a bishop, though lower than a cardinal or bishopa. She placed other honours and ranks upon me, too, giving me the post ofBath Protector, andKeeper of the Golden Fig, andHead Whisk, which assured me the pick of the larder for my meals. Each of these posts carried a large stipend, so I was now receiving more than one hundred arrans per month, in addition to my salary for the construction.
    Soon, however, problems arose from a new source. TheArchbishop of Ulph, who was a senior administrator for the bishopa, came before her, saying:
    “Your Excellency, it is perhaps unwise to give to this one man so many positions of high honour. These posts involve little work, save for very occasional inspections of the kitchen and orchard staff, and I fear, to those not familiar with Your Excellency’s wisdom, the appointments might appear an overindulgence of our dear brother Yreth, and this could lead to dissent.”
    “Of what dissent do you speak?” asked the bishopa.
    “It grieves me to report the lies of others,” said the archbishop, “Yet there are evil rumours spreading to the effect that our beloved Yreth is merely a kept plaything of Your Excellency and contributes nothing to the church yet places a great burden upon its treasury.”
    Here he spoke truly—there were indeed such rumours, and it was none other than he who was spreading them, but I said nothing, for it would not have been fitting to enter a crude debate in that holy place.
    Still, the bishopa was concerned at the accusations, for, with her gentle and trusting nature, she put much faith in the Archbishop of Ulph. Therefore she asked me to commence construction of the Grief without delay, so all might see the value of my presence inQuebec.
    “Your Excellency,” I said, “though it is my one desire to serve your every want, in this case I regret to say I cannot. The climate of the season (it was now midwinter) makes soil hard and difficult to excavate. Also, and more importantly, enchantments placed by cold hands are more liable to be faulty than those placed in