The Inquisitor's Tale by Adam Gidwitz

Author:Adam Gidwitz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2016-09-13T15:51:04+00:00

“Don’t listen to that old invalid!” Michelangelo’s voice boomed from the doorway. “He’s a liar and a satan and you should never believe him.” Michelangelo left the flimsy door standing open, so the fresh morning air swirled into the little house. “Trust him, but never believe him. Have seconds. Thirds. Miriam would insist.” The great man stood in the center of the room, his head nearly grazing the ceiling. William got up and ladled more porridge into his bowl.

Michelangelo stomped his foot on the floorboards. “Have you ever seen these?” he asked, looking at Jacob.

Jacob shook his head. His eyes were heavy and rimmed with shadows.

“A new thing they’ve done,” Yehuda said. “To reduce disease, they tell us. Only in the most advanced cities. We live in a new Rome, my friend. An enlightened age!”

Michelangelo frowned at the old rabbi. “He’s lying,” he said to the children. “As usual. Don’t believe him.”

“Lying?” Yehuda said, with heat. “How, lying? With Crusades and murder, heretics and executions? And every penny going to that fortress of stone in the name of God—when not a man inside knows what, or who, God is? Surely the Messiah is come, and the Kingdom of Heaven has arrived!”

“The Messiah IS come, you satan!” Michelangelo suddenly bellowed. Jeanne nearly fell off her chair. “And the Kingdom of Heaven is near indeed! The Cistercians have carved wood and bent iron into a pump of perpetual movement! In Chartres, they have erected a cathedral that literally touches the belly of Heaven! And wise men like you and Roger Bacon and Rashi show the benighted the error of their ways!”

“And peasants,” the old rabbi replied, straightening his crooked back, his beard quivering, “pretend they are going to the Holy Land and descend on Jewish villages and loot and murder and burn! Surely, God is smiling!”

“That makes God weep and you know it!” Michelangelo began, his voice swelling. But then he stopped. He glanced at William. “Our young brother, though, finds something funny.” They all looked at the young monk. Indeed, William was grinning.

“What? Are you laughing at us?” Yehuda demanded.

William shook his head, but he could not stop grinning. He said, “How are you two friends? A rabbi and a prior? Shouting at each other and calling each other satan?”

“You call this friends?” Yehuda said, throwing his hands in the air. But then he laughed. “No, it’s true. You should be so lucky to have a friend like this.”

And then Jeanne said, “He does. Two.”

William took in his breath sharply. One corner of his left eye was suddenly damp.

Jeanne turned to Michelangelo. “Why do you call him Satan?” If someone among the present company looked like Satan, Jeanne thought, surely it was Michelangelo. Jeanne saw that Gwenforte was curled around his feet again, while Jeanne’s bare feet were cold.

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