"Hang him!"
"Hang this damned pirate!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A sturdy wooden gavel struck the podium repeatedly, its echoes reverberating throughout the courtroom.
"Order!"
After the room finally fell silent, the robed judge with his powdered wig set down the gavel and picked up the verdict from his desk, reading aloud in a booming voice:
"Since First Mate Marvin Enders of the St. Martyr's Fleet cannot produce a letter of marque issued by the Windsor Crown, he is found guilty of piracy. Therefore, this court hereby sentences Marvin Enders and the 138 surviving crew members of the St. Martyr's Fleet to hang by the neck until dead, to be carried out immediately!"
...
Marvin jolted awake from his nightmare, feeling someone shaking him.
The warm afternoon sunlight stung his eyes as he raised a hand to shield them. Standing before him was a gaunt middle-aged man with a bulbous nose, bushy sideburns, and a weathered gray wool coat.
"Father, you had that nightmare again?"
The middle-aged man pulled a grimy handkerchief from his pocket and generously offered it to Marvin to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Thank you, I'm fine."
Marvin declined the questionable handkerchief that looked like it had seen both butter and coal dust. He always avoided items with dubious hygiene standards.
The man before him was Jacob Valentine, 34 years old, a brewer living at 55 South Street in New Ross. He was unmarried and shared his home only with a housekeeper.
"Mr. Jacob, what brings you to the church?"
"I have doubts, Father. I seek answers from the Goddess." Jacob removed his hat and pressed it to his chest, bowing respectfully to the tall, elegant statue standing in the north aisle of the church.
Marvin readily agreed to help. As a priest, his duties included performing funerals, weddings, baptisms, leading prayers, exorcisms, and answering parishioners' questions.
As he walked toward the confessional booth, two cats—one orange and one black—were sunning themselves on the windowsill. The sleek black cat with white paws jumped down, stretched lazily with a yawn, and trotted toward Marvin. As for the other cat, the orange one whose rear end was wider than its shoulders...
It merely lifted an eyelid, then shifted its bulk to occupy the spot the black cat had just vacated.
Inside the cramped confessional, the black cat jumped onto Marvin's lap, rolled onto its back to expose its soft belly, and let out a gentle meow. It was clear this wasn't the first time it had done this.
Marvin stroked its fur and asked, "What troubles you, Mr. Jacob?"
"I... I've fallen in love with the girl next door."
Jacob Valentine sighed deeply. "But I don't know if this is right."
Maggie?
Ah...
Marvin recalled that next door to Jacob, at 54 South Street, lived Maggie Kress, a widow and dressmaker. She was 29 years old. Her husband had been a captain with the fishing company before his death last year. Fortunately, he had invested in some stocks that provided £50 in annual interest, allowing Maggie to raise their seven-year-old daughter without worrying about starvation. Even so, Maggie and her daughter still lived modestly.
If Jacob were to marry Maggie... Wait!
Girl?
Marvin paused. Normally, one would address a widow as "Madam" rather than "Miss," and Maggie was certainly no longer young enough to be called "miss."
Could Jacob be referring to someone else?
"Love is something to be cherished and admired," Marvin said carefully. "It is not inherently wrong, but we must consider the circumstances. If you'll forgive my asking, are you referring to Maggie Kress?"
"What? Maggie Kress?!"
Jacob, sitting on the other side of the lattice partition, gasped in disbelief. "Don't be absurd! Who would fall in love with that shrew? She argued with me over a single penny just the other day!"
"Then could it be her daughter you've fallen for?"
Silence fell on the other side of the partition. After a long pause, a voice full of exasperation replied, "Father, no matter how depraved I may be, I would never fall in love with a seven-year-old girl."
Marvin became even more confused. "There are only two women named Maggie living next door to you. If it's not them, then who exactly have you fallen for?"
"You've seen her before, Father." Jacob's voice softened with a smile, as if just thinking about her brought him immense joy. "She has beautiful golden hair, large expressive eyes that shine like polished obsidian, and she always greets me with such enthusiasm..."
...
Marvin stopped stroking the black cat. He licked his dry lips and rubbed his forehead, suddenly realizing who Jacob was talking about.
Maggie's Yorkshire terrier.
This was truly an unexpected turn of events.
Marvin considered himself a man who had seen his share of life's twists and turns, but this...
This was a new experience, to say the least.
"Father, why aren't you speaking?"
I'm trying to figure out how to correct this dangerous line of thinking... Marvin thought to himself.
But that wasn't the main issue.
The real question was...
"I believe Maggie's Yorkshire terrier is male," Marvin said slowly.
"Male?"
Jacob sounded stunned. "That can't be... How could that be? Male? Are you certain, Father?"
"Quite certain."
Marvin continued petting the black cat as he spoke. "I have two cats myself, both of whom have... well, let's just say I'm quite familiar with identifying the gender of animals. In fact, I've seen... Maggie's little friend's... equipment firsthand."
Dead silence fell over the confessional, and indeed, over the entire church. Even the sunlight seemed less warm somehow.
Surely that would settle the matter.
Through the small grille, Marvin saw Jacob's tightly pressed lips and clenched fists. Far from feeling guilty, he felt a strange sense of relief.
Thank goodness Maggie had a male dog. Otherwise, this conversation could have gone in some very awkward directions.
But...
The pioneering romantic on the other side of the partition didn't see it that way.
"I don't care if he's male," Jacob said softly.
He unclenched his fists and looked down at his soft cap in his hands. "I can't give up on my feelings for Maggie... God, what's wrong with me? My cheeks flush just thinking about her! Father, tell me—will Goddess Eonia approve of my love for Maggie?"
"The Goddess is merciful and kind, and she loves all her children..."
Marvin paused before continuing:
"I believe that as long as your feelings for Maggie are mutual and you do not act against the natural order, Goddess Eonia will surely bless you."
"Of course not!"
Jacob stood up, excitement in his voice. "With your blessing, Father, I'll go tell Maggie how I feel right now!"
He's male...
Marvin wanted to correct him, but seeing Jacob's excited expression, the words stuck in his throat.
"Oh, and Father," Jacob said as he stepped out of the confessional.
He turned back to Marvin. "If that harpy Maggie Kress refuses to let me be with my Maggie, I'll need you to intervene on my behalf."
Before Marvin could respond, Jacob pulled five silver coins from his pocket—each bearing the profile of King Rod IV of Windsor on one side and a double-headed eagle on the other—and placed them on the baptismal font near the church entrance.
"Please don't refuse, Father. This is the only way I can show my gratitude to the church. It's just a small offering to Goddess Eonia, the Goddess of Truth."
"May the Goddess bless you, Mr. Jacob."
"Truth above all."
Jacob pressed his right hand to his chest and bowed to the statue. Then he picked up a ceramic bowl from the side of the font, filled it with holy water, and drank it down.
"Aah!"
After drinking the water, Jacob looked refreshed. "Every time I drink this holy water, it clears my mind! Praise the Goddess!"
Nonsense.
I added mint leaves to it, Marvin thought to himself as he watched Jacob leave with a smile. Once Jacob was gone, Marvin picked up the five shillings from the font and entered the small room hidden behind the statue.