A Tinn’s tale

he Earl had called for Dorus to come, and as he knew what was hanging over his head, he could not help being a bit anxious.

But, being the brave man he was, he valiantly kissed his wife, put on his cloak and walked all the way to the old building where the Earl housed.

There he was awaited by a servant, who silently led him to the Earl’s chamber. There he stood and  nervously looked around. Be polite, he told himself. You’ve done nothing wrong.

‘Ah, there you are. I have some matters to tell you. Would you sit down?’

Dorus stood.

‘Your Grace, you live in such a lovely place! I walked all the way up the hill and I noticed that there is much less snow here. I wonder if the hills stop the snow from falling here? But ofcourse it has been melting now,’ he chattered away, trying to mask his nervousness.

Quinten fidgeted on his seat. There was not an easy way of telling a rebellious man that he was pigheaded. And obstinate, too! He didn’t even want to sit down in front of his superiors.

He cleared his throat, making Dorus fall into silence.

‘I hope you understand,’ he began almost as nervous as his visitor, ‘that your opinion is not appreciated. Not by me, not by the villagers and neither by the pastor, of whom you would think he would be informed. You are familiar with the meaning of the term ‘heretic’?’

At the mention of that word, Dorus’ eyes moved guiltily downwards.

‘I presume you are. Then I have to inform you, we do not need heretics in this little peaceful village. Nor do we need men of whom everyone thinks they are.’

‘If you insist on thinking-’

‘Sir, I-’

‘Don’t interrupt me! I said, if you insist on thinking this- this- nonsense, then I will have to force you into leaving this village.’

That made him drop his arguments and stare at him in bewilderness.

‘For once and for ever.’

Ha, there he had him. He mustn’t think that he could do everything as him pleased! Where Quinten was in charge, such things weren’t allowed. He wished his people to be happy, but that couldn’t be when heretical thoughts troubled their mind.

And this man was particularly pigheaded! Staring at him like that. At first he had only meant to warn him, but now his emotions and memories took the better of him.

‘If you had any respect, you’d go on some pilgrimage,’ he snapped, rising from his seat in anger.

‘But- but what about my wife and children?’ mumbled Dorus bewildered. His children! The heretics’ burrow!

‘They can stay. They’re no heretics, are they?
‘But since they have lived with you, the pastor will pay a little more attention to them. That should be no problem. But perhaps we have to take a step further and make your wife renounce that ideas of yours for once and forever,’ he snarled.

‘And now you have my permission to leave. You are banned from Tinn, Dorus Paral.’

Dorus turned on the spot immediately and brushed past the flabbergasted servant, who stood waiting just outside the door.

Quinten sank back into his chair, fiddling with his hat. Had he done the right thing?

He leaned back and stared at the little flame. A candle of Dorus, no doubt. Had he just sent away Tinn’s candle professional?

No, it was only good that the man was gone. He couldn’t cause any more trouble this way.

Quinten sighed. The conversation had stirred up his anger and had upset him more than he intended. He was getting older with the days. His daughters were going to marry in about a year, his only son soon as well. Then he would be able to lay back and leave the ruling to his son.

There was a knock on the door, just when Quinten had closed his eyes in fulfillment.

‘What now?’ he snapped.

The door cracked and a servant came in, with a hand firmly squeezed against his head. Quinten frowned at him. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

‘My ear, sir, it hurts.’

‘Ah, go away,’ grunted Quinten, ‘and leave me to my thoughts. You have always something to complain about.’