Caliphate

Intersection, A3 and KT11, Province of Affrankon,

10 Rajab, 1533 AH (9 June, 2109)

It was early morning and, despite the season, quite chilly. The wind blew sometimes from the east, sometimes from the north. Wrapped in his janissary's field cloak, Hans shivered.

God, what a shitty world, he thought, as the five condemned writhed and struggled for breath on their crosses. They moaned now but seldom cried out. For this Hans gave full credit to the priest who spoke up, encouraging his charges to rejoice at their martyrdom and to bear up under their pain. They sang hymns, sometimes, when their strength allowed.

I should do as well, under the circumstances.

The boy, for he was still a boy, sat on a grassy slope, chewing his lip and watching the priest slowly expire. I'd help if I could, Hans thought.

"Boy? You . . . boy? What's your name?" the priest asked. His head lolled to one side with weakness. His steel-gray hair moved with the breeze.

"Hans, Father." He'd not forgotten how to address a priest, despite three years of indoctrination.

"You were . . . Catholic . . . Hans?"

"Yes, Father."

"Tell me how they convinced you to change?"

Hans opened his mouth to answer and then realized, I don't really know how. We were just all in pain and . . .

The boy poured out the story to the priest.

The priest laughed and, though the laugh was strained, it was still an amazing thing from a man dying on the cross. "Didn't you find it a little odd that they claim 'no compulsion in religion' and then compelled you and your friends?"

"I—" Hans changed the subject. "How did you end up here, Father?"

The priest laughed, then went into a fit of violent coughing. "I was sold out by another priest."

When he saw Hans' eyes go wide at that, the priest explained, "Many of the clergy like having the masters in charge, Hans. How else, after all, could they enforce support for the church among Catholics and Protestants? How else could they have the religious laws they believe in enforced, except by the will of the masters?

"What of your mother and father, Hans?" the priest asked, changing the subject. "Are they still Catholic?"

"Yes, Father."

"Does the Koran teach to honor them?"

"Yes, Father, in Sura 17, 23 and 24."

"As does the Christian Bible?"

"The words are different but, I think, the intent is the same."

"Do you honor them by casting off their faith? Don't answer, Hans. It's just something for you to think about."

The priest stood upon the spikes passing through his heels and moaned with the effort and the pain. After breathing heavily several times, and coughing forth great quantities of phlegm, he let his body down again.

"Not too much longer now, I think," the priest said. "And that's the truth. Tell me Hans, what does the Koran say about lying to unbelievers?"

"That it's permissible, when necessary, Father."

"Then let me leave you with this thought, Hans: Turnabout is fair play. Oh, and one other thought. If you ever have the chance: Look up 'Skanderbeg.' Go now, before they punish you. I will pray for you, my son."