Chapter 394: Interference

I lounged around until noon, and once Hilda had finished prettying herself up, I brought her out of the mansion. Hilda usually prefers bright, cheerful dresses, but today she wore one in a darker shade to suit the mood of a religious trial.

I knew spectators had come running from Neudenburg and the Bishopric of Lanseh to watch, but the supposedly pious and solemn atmosphere of a religious trial turned out to be nothing like what I had imagined.

"Is this actually a trial, or is it some festival nobody told me about?"

"Pardon? It’s not a festival. This is simply what a church trial looks like."

No matter how I looked at it, the scene was indistinguishable from a festival. The spectators who couldn’t get into the church had it practically surrounded, and peddlers were working the crowd for business.

I was dumbfounded by the sight.

Hilda, however, said it was perfectly ordinary.

"Are church trials in Breisburg always like this too?"

"They’re even rowdier than this. The priests hated it, but the citizens would join hands and dance in the back courtyard to liven things up. Sometimes Priscilla and I would join in the fun."

"Does that mean religious trials were held often?"

"About once a month. Most of the time it was Jews who stood trial."

The religious trials in Breisburg were essentially a means of harassing Jews and heathens. The Jews were unwelcome in religious terms, yet they were permitted to reside there in practice, so the trials were said to be a way of appeasing the discontent of the faithful.

The absurd part was that when a guilty verdict came down, the punishment wasn’t burning at the stake but an enormous fine. The Jews would pay it, and honestly, I had no idea what the point of any of it was.

"Isn’t that just a legal way of shaking down the Jews for money?"

"That’s right. But they’re Jews, you know? Nobody cares. Some people even insist they should be grateful for being allowed to live there at all instead of being driven out."

Jews are treated poorly in every Christian country; it’s the same everywhere. It’s religious oppression, but it’s sanctioned oppression, so nobody cares what becomes of them.

That was simply common sense in this era.

There are Jews living in Rosenheim as well. They reside in Denmach, the western territory, and most of them apparently work in the perfume industry. The rose perfume Hilda loves is made by Jews too.

Hmm. As long as they commit no crimes, it might not be a bad idea to put those skilled hands to work on various luxury goods ventures. If I guarantee their freedom of religion and residence, they’ll work hard for me.

Of course, moneylending at interest is completely off the table.

At any rate, I’d never paid attention to religious trials before, so I’d had no notion they would draw a crowd like this. It seems people don’t fear witches so much as they want to see the unknown terror with their own eyes.

People are that starved for a spectacle.

For them, this might be one of life’s great pleasures.

If watching a trial draws this kind of crowd, maybe I could form a theater troupe or a circus and send them touring the territories under Rosenheim. I could expect a tidy income from it.

Give people some joy and collect a portion of the performance fees as tax. What’s not to like? It beats taxes that are practically extorted out of people. The Church would hate it, naturally, but toss them some offerings and they’ll keep their mouths shut.

As for how worldly the Church is, they sell indulgences, take offerings, and collect tithes. They say there are more tax collectors gathering the church tax than there are clergy living in the bishopric.

Apparently, with enough money, you can buy a cardinal’s seat or any number of other offices from the papacy. That’s part of why, ever since the Great Schism of the papacy (the Avignon Captivity), calls for religious reform have spread like wildfire.

"Master, we’ve finished stationing the guards inside the courtroom."

"Well done. Anton is controlling the area around the church, correct?"

"Yes. And Ted has taken charge of the entrance."

I hadn’t deployed my troops so meticulously in order to keep perfect control over the audience. I’d done it to pressure the judge. This is a world where fists trump law and threats trump faith.

Chief Monk Francisco, who was overseeing the special trial’s proceedings, had the accusers and key witnesses enter first. Norman, along with Dressel, fresh out of jail, and three other accusers took their places at the accusers’ stand.

Wiegen, who had been Dressel’s backer, looked terribly gaunt, and the other representatives who’d been caught in the crossfire glared murderously at the pair, apparently content to wait and see how the trial turned out.

Villagers from Feuzen and Boeven filed in one after another, and the remaining spectators from out of town packed the space to bursting. Those who couldn’t get inside surrounded the church.

"Maybe it’s because the trial is being held in Feuzen, but it does feel special."

"Oh, it’s special all right. It’s about to turn into complete pandemonium."

Hilda didn’t catch my meaning and tilted her head.

Hmm. My curious wife is awfully lovely.

Hilda, I, and Ferke took the seats of honor, in that order, and waited for the trial to begin. Soon Father Andreas and Chief Monk Francisco entered, led by Nikolaus, the acting judge.

Before the trial began, there was a prayer of praise to the Lord.

Christian society ties everything back to the Lord.

"The Holy Lord has said that we must not suffer a witch who works sorcery, nor a disciple of Satan, to live. In accordance with the Lord’s will, we convene this sacred trial to determine the truth here and now."

"May the grace of our glorious and merciful Lord be with us. Amen."

"Amen."

"Hallelujah."

Once the standard procedures were finished, Nikolaus had Erika, the accused witch, brought in. A great crowd had gathered to lay eyes on a witch, so she had become a spectacle in her own right, yet she held herself together.

I had promised her she would be found innocent, and that promise had steadied her.

One of the gunners escorting her was Erich.

"Here and now, I intend to prove the existence of a witch in Feuzen who has made a pact with the wicked Satan."

Nikolaus’s gaze turned to Erika.

She was bearing it calmly, but her hands were trembling.

"Honorable judge! I am not a witch! I swear it before the Lord!"

"How dare a witch’s mouth invoke a sacred oath! Blasphemy! I have prepared a great many things to prove that you are a witch! Satan-worshipping witch, I shall expose your true form!"

They brought out torture implements gruesome enough to make even the monks flinch.

The audience buzzed with anticipation at the prospect of watching a witch be tortured before their eyes.

"Torture, out of nowhere, at a religious trial?!"

Even Hilda, who had watched plenty of religious trials, was horrified. Which meant that, heresy or not, torturing someone in the middle of a courtroom was still beyond the pale. You could tell as much from the deeply troubled looks on the monks’ faces.

Tsk. The procedures for a special trial are such a free-for-all that Nikolaus looks ready to open with torture, exactly as he’d planned. That’s what happens when there are no clear guidelines or standards.

Regrettably, in later years special trials would settle into precisely that pattern: torture first, confession after. I sent Andreas a hand signal where no one else could see it.

"Honorable Father Nikolaus, rather than proving the witch’s identity first, why not begin by hearing the testimony of the five accusers? According to the records, trial procedure begins with the accusers’ testimony."

At Andreas’s intervention, displeasure crept over the face of Nikolaus, who had been on the verge of beginning the torture. The unexpected interference made his feelings slip out for a moment. So I backed Andreas up.

"Father Andreas makes a fair point. The proper order is to inform everyone attending this trial of the testimony regarding the witchcraft charges, not to begin with torture."

"Baron, this special trial is presided over by the sacred inquisition. Secular power and—"

"Even if church authority and secular authority are separate, am I not permitted to voice an opinion as the ruler of this land?"

I cut Nikolaus off and turned up the pressure.

Nikolaus, who never saw it coming, was badly flustered.

He stole a glance around the room. He had probably only just noticed the guards glaring at him. A show of force carries weight in a trial too, all the more so when it comes from a prince.

I’d wager Nikolaus sensed this wasn’t going to be easy.

He must have taken me for just another lord who had come to watch a trial.