A Carpenter
984 Words
A Carpenter~
Peder Griffith
Jorendon
Dymoon, 4400
“Pull it toward you a bit more,” Peder instructed the boy. “Hold it there.”
He leaned back to gauge whether the baluster stood straight. Close enough. It would need repairing again soon anyway. Providence House was bursting at the seams, and even the best-behaved child couldn’t resist sliding down a banister when no one was watching.
Peder pulled back the hammer and gave the nail a solid whack. The boy let go at the last second, and the baluster went flying across the entry hall.
“Wills Talfryn, I am not going to hit your fingers,” he said. Wills looked skeptical. “Who broke this railing?”
The scruffy lad eyed the hammer in Peder’s hand with misgiving.
“I did, Your Holiness.”
“Yes, you did. And you will help me with the repairs.”
“I don’t mean offense, but…” Wills hesitated. “I never seen a holy man swing a hammer. I don’t know ye’ll be any good at it.”
A hearty laugh echoed through the orphanage’s entry. Bishop James Gregor stood in the doorway, watching in amusement.
“A smart lad to be cautious with his trust,” said Gregor. “But I believe Bishop Griffith has repaired a railing or two in his time.”
Peder handed Wills another baluster. Wills took it reluctantly and held it in place. Peder swung the hammer before the boy lost his resolve.
“Well done.” He patted the boy’s shoulder. “Only eleven more to go.”
“Bishop Griffith, I came to have a word with you.” Gregor started up the stairs. “Maybe the lad can finish his penance by transcribing some verses.”
“Wills has a few other transgressions that keep him busy transcribing.” He gave the boy a stern look. “You will help in the laundry for a week if you abandon your task.”
Wills looked at the hammer, the stack of wood, then up to Peder. “I’ll hold ‘em.”
Peder replaced four more balusters with well-aimed blows. Wills stopped flinching after the third.
“Bishop Gregor will help with the rest,” he said. “Go to your room and think about the cost and time we put into these repairs. You’re almost ten now. You must set an example for the little ones.”
Wills wiped his nose with his sleeve and stood taller. “I will, Your Holiness. I promise.”
“Go on.” Peder tousled his mop of hair. “Stop by the kitchen. Tell Cook you did your penance and get your supper.”
Wills scampered off before Peder could reconsider, leaving Gregor to finish in his stead. The bearded Rhynn was built more like a soldier than a cleric, but defending Aleron souls from bigots like Deighton probably took a bit of both. He held the next baluster in place as Peder anchored it to the stair tread. Another ten minutes and they had the railing secured again.
“Why did you do this, Peder?”
“Because the railing was broken, of course.”
“I mean, why did you do this? Why not hire it done?”
“Because it wasn’t safe to leave broken. Because I know how to drive a nail. Because the price of a carpenter would buy a dozen loaves of bread,” he said. “But you know that already. What are you looking for, James?”
“The right man to be Beacon.”
After the Midwinter’s Eve debacle, John Deighton resigned his office. He gave an impassioned farewell in the Grand Cathedral, before the most fanatical of the faithful, reaffirming his divine calling to purify Innis of Aurel heathenry. He begged prayers for the king who was thwarting his cause, and then without explanation, boarded a ship and disappeared.
Two months later, the Blessed Fellowship had yet to elect a successor.
The extremist Moseley was one of the candidates. The more moderate Bishop Renwick of Gow was the other. The Blessed Fellowship remained divided between them, with the Rhynn bishops staunchly supporting Renwick.
“The right man.” Peder stowed the hammer in his tool bag. “Renwick still has my vote. Same as the last time you asked me.”
Had James come all the way to Cabbagetown for that affirmation? Peder had long hoped he could get the Rhynn bishops more involved at Providence House. Perhaps he had come to offer help with more than railing repairs.
James Gregor was the father of seven children of his own. He and his wife had, to date, taken in a dozen or more orphaned Hawks to raise. He was a man of conviction and action. He’d make a better Beacon than either candidate, but a Rhynn stood no chance of claiming the highest office of the Church of Innis.
“I thought as much.” James helped gather the leftover spindles. “That’s not what I came to talk about.”
Balancing spindles in one arm and a keg of nails in the other, Peder waited for him to get to the point.
“You’re not married. Why not?” James asked bluntly.
Peder frowned. “That’s what you came here to talk about?”
“It’s merely a question. You don’t have to answer if there’s something you’d rather not say.”
“It’s nothing I try to keep secret.” Peder headed for the storage shed. “I was married once. Young and in love, but she wasn’t cut out to be a pastor’s wife. The last I heard, she was somewhere in Bresca raising a family with my best friend.” He stored the nails on a shelf. “At least, he used to be. Left me with some trust issues.”
“Can’t say I blame you.” James deposited his armload. “That’s all I needed to hear. You’re as clean as your reputation in every other respect.”
“You had me—”
“Checked out. To be sure I wasn’t in for any unpleasant surprises.”
“What has you turning matchmaker?” Peder chuckled as they headed back inside. “One of your daughters must be coming of age.”
“Renwick withdrew his name this afternoon.”
“Withdrew? But he was making headway with some of Moseley’s supporters.”
“He withdrew. He did not give an explanation. What does that sound like to you?”
“Blackmail,” Peder replied after a moment. “It must be damning for him to sacrifice this opportunity.”
“That was my thought, too.” James gripped the stair railing and gave it a shake. “Not bad. You’re a man of underestimated talents.”
“It’s a railing, James. Not a miracle.”
“I came to warn you. I nominated you in Renwick’s place,” he announced matter-of-factly. “Many in the Blessed Fellowship are ready for some level-headed moderation. You were Rotherford’s protégé. His legacy carries more influence than Deighton’s short tenure.”
Peder stood blinking in bewilderment. “Nominated?”
“For Beacon. You weren’t there to decline the nomination. Renwick had your proxy. He accepted on your behalf and threw his support behind you.”
James thumped him on the back.
“You’re in the running, Peder.”
Chapter 52
- Writer
