Astonished, Vanimen said, “Were you wedded? I know cler.. gymen formerly were, at least in the North, but I hadn’t heard of it for generations.”
“Aye, we’re Catholic, yet of the Glagolitic rite, which is not Rome’s. Though the Popes have ever misliked that, they’ve not outright forbidden our usages.”
Vanimen shook his head. “I’ll never grasp why you humans wrangle about such snailshell matters-how you can do it, when you might be savoring this world.” He saw his host would fain avoid dispute, and went on, “But tell me, if you will, of your past. I’ve heard mere shards thus far.”
“There’s naught to tell,” answered Tomislav. “A most ordi-nary, stumbling mortal life. It can’t interest you, who for centuries have known marvels beyond my imagining.”
“Oh, it would,” Vanimen murmured. “You are as strange to me as I to you. If you would let me glimpse your inwardness, might see-well, not only how the tribe of Adam inhabits earth, but why. . . .”
“You might see what God means!” Tomislav exclaimed. “Ha, that chance is worth baring my breast t~ you.
“Not that I’ve much to reveal. Ask what questions you will as I go along.” Talking, the man let his voice drop. His gaze went outward, over the roof opposite, to trees and sky-to lost years, Vanimen supposed. Now and then he took a swallow of beer, but not with his customary gusto; it was a thing his body did to keep his throat moist.
“I was born a serf, though not here: in Skradin, ‘in the shadow of the castle,’ as the saying goes. My father was a groom there. The chaplain of that time thought me worth teaching to read and write. When I reached the proper age, fourteen, he recommended me to the bishop. Thus I went to Zadar to study for holy orders-hard work in truth, for both flesh and spirit. Nonetheless, there was a city full of liveliness, men from beyond every horizon, wQrldly goods, worldly pleasures. I confess, for a while I fell into sin. Afterward I repented, and dare believe I’ve been forgiven, and may have gained a little insight into my fellow creatures.
“Repentance made me long back, however, long for my birth-land, simple ways, my own kind of people. No pastorate here-abouts fell open for several years. During them, I was amanuensis to the bishop.
“Meanwhile I’d turn lust into lawful conjugality by arranging to marry a woman from these parts. In fact, because of my wish still more than canonical requirement, that was before I entered orders. Ah, lovely in her youth was my Sena!
“But early on, sadness came over her. At first it may have been due to her new environs. Crowds, noise, chaffering, intrigue, restlessness, ever-changefulness, those things frightened her and weighed on her soul. Besides, we lost two children to sickness. She found less comfort in the three that lived than I did, or than I hoped she would.
“Finally I got this church. The bishop grumbled at letting me go, but relented when 1 made clear what it should mean to Sena.
“Well, it was of no avail. More babies of hers died or were stillborn. Worse, our three growing children found this life as bad as she’d found the city. They missed the outside world; they chafed, waxed rebellious. My ordination had freed my whole family from serfdom. Thus no law bound them in place. One by one, when they grew old enough, they defied us and broke away.
“First Franjo went to sea. After a few voyages, his ship was never heard of again. It may have been wrecked, it may have fallen to pirates or slavers. Could be, this moment, my son is a eunuch in some Turk’s harem. Kyrie eleison.
“It was less bad for Zinka. She wed a merchant she met once when we were in Shibenik-wed him without our leave, almost the day afterward. We could do naught, for the priest was a countryman of his and he took her home with him to Austria. Never a word has come since. I pray she is happy. Christe eleison.
“Later our younger son, Juraj, ran off. He’s in Split, working for a Venetian factor-Venice, the ancient enemy. I hear about him from time to time, through the kindness of a tradesman I know; but I never hear from him. Kyrie eleison.