THE FOREST CHAPEL BELL
As Bishop of Debauchester, my duties included adding the final touches to our great cathedral. Twelve generations of labourers had toiled under an angry sun to construct the most astonishing edifice in the whole land. Their bones, ground to dust, had been mixed with their blood to form the cement that held stone to stone.
And now all that remained was to cast a suitable bell for the belfry. I had a very definite idea as to what such a bell should sound like. Any note it might strike would have to take into account the character of the building. For me, the cathedral stood out as a beacon of hope in our ravaged city.
Naturally, the local forges were unable to produce such a bell. The craftsmen of Debauchester were no longer equal to the task. Their Guilds had grown
