From the common room of the tavern came a young man of aristocratic demeanour. He was tall and strong, clean-shaven and clear of eye, with an expression of tranquil good humor, as if he found the world a congenial place in which to be alive. His garments were casual: a loose shirt of white linen, trousers of gray twill and an embroidered blue vest. He looked right and left, then approached the table where sat the gentleman in the brown cassock. He asked: "Sir, may I join you? The other tables are occupied and, if possible, I would enjoy the air of this fine morning."

The gentleman in the cassock made an expansive gesture: "Be seated at your pleasure! Allow me to recommend the mead; today it is both sweet and strong, and the honey-cakes are flawless. Indeed, I plan an immediate second acquaintance with both."

The newcomer settled himself into a chair. "The rules of your order are evidently both tolerant and liberal."

"Ha ha, not so! The restrictions are austere and the penalties are harsh. My transgressions, in fact, have brought me expulsion from the order."

"Hmm! It seems an exaggerated response. A sip or two of mead, a taste of honey-cake: where is the harm in this?"

"None whatever!" declared the ex-priest. "I must admit that the issues possibly went a trifle deeper, and I may even found a new brotherhood, devoid of those stringencies which too often make religion a bore. I am restrained only because I do not wish to be branded a heretic. Are you yourself a Christian?"

The young man made a negative sign. "The concepts of religion baffle me."

"This inscrutability is perhaps not unintentional," said the ex-priest. "It gives endless employment to dialecticians who otherwise might become public charges or, at very worst, swindlers and tricksters. May I ask whom I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"Of course. I am Sir Tristano of Castle Mythric in Troicinet. And yourself?"

"I also am of noble blood, or so it seems to me. For the nonce, I use the name my father gave me, which is Orlo."

Sir Tristano, signaling the servant girl, ordered mead and honey-cakes for both himself and Orlo. "I assume, then, that you have definitely resigned from the church?"

"Quite so. It makes for a sordid tale. I was called before the abbot that I might answer to charges of drunkenness and wenching. I put forward my views in a manner to enlighten and convince any reasonable person. I assured the abbot that our merciful Lord God would never have created succulent pasties nor smacking ale, not to mention the charms of merry-hearted women, had he not wished these commodities to be enjoyed to the fullest."

"The abbot no doubt fell back upon dogma for his rebuttal?"

"Precisely! He cited passage after passage from the scriptures to justify his position. I suggested that errors might well have crept into the translation, and that, until we were absolutely sure that self-starvation and tormented glands were the will of our glorious Lord, I proposed that we give ourselves the benefit of the doubt. The abbot nevertheless cast me out."

"Self-interest also guided him; of this I have no doubt!" said Sir Tristano. "If everyone worshipped in the manner he found most congenial, the abbot, and the pope as well, would find themselves with no one to instruct."

At this moment Sir Tristano's attention was attracted by a scene of activity across the square. "What is the commotion yonder? Everyone is dancing and skipping as if they were on their way to a festival."

"It is indeed a celebration of sorts," said Orlo. "For close on a year a bloody-handed pirate has been terrorizing the sea. Have you heard the name ‘Flary the Red'?"

"I have indeed! Mothers use the name to frighten their children."

"Flary is a none-such!" said Orlo. "He has elevated cutthroat daring to a pinnacle of virtuosity, and always he has worn a lucky green pearl in his ear. One day he misplaced his pearl, but nevertheless launched an attack. This was his great mistake. What seemed a fat merchantman was a trap, and fifty Godelian fire-eaters swarmed aboard the pirate ship. Red Flary was captured and today he will lose his head. Shall we observe the ceremony?"

"Why not? Such spectacles assert the inevitable triumph of virtue, and we will be better men for the instruction."

"Well spoken! I could wish that all men were so rational!"

The two made their way to the executioner's platform, and here Orlo was prompted to chide a gray-faced little man who sought to rifle his pouch. "Fellow, your conduct is leading you directly up to the executioner's block! Have you no foresight? I now must turn you over to the guard!"

"Pest take you!" The pick-pocket jerked free fron Orlo's grasp. "There were no witnesses!"

"Wrong!" spoke Sir Tristano. "I saw the whole thing! I myself will summon the guard!"

The pick-pocket uttered another epithet and, dodging away, was lost in the press.

"A thoroughly unpleasant incident," said Orlo. "The more so since all hearts should now be gay and all faces radiant with joy."

Sir Tristano felt impelled to add a qualification: "Save only the heart and face of Flary the Red."

"That goes without saying."

From the crowd came muted cries of anticipation as a pair of blackmasked jailers pulled Flary up to the platform. Behind came a massive man, also masked in black, moving with a stately, even pompous, tread. He carried an enormous axe on his shoulder, and in his wake ambled a priest, smiling first to one side, then the other.

A crier, dressed parti-colour in green and red, jumped to the platform. He bowed toward a construction of raised benches where sat Emmence, Earl of Dun Cruighre, with his friends and family. The crier addressed the throng: "Hear, all ye gracious gentlefolk, as well as all other classes of the region: low, high and ordinary. Hear, I say, and all will learn of the justice imposed by Lord Emmence upon the clapperclaw Flary the Red! His guilty acts are many and not in dispute; his death is perhaps too merciful. Flary, speak your final words in this world which you have so misused!"

"I sorely regret my capture," said Flary. "The green pearl betrayed me; it harms all who touch it! I knew that someday it would bring me to the block, and so it has."

The crier demanded: "Are you not awed as you stand here facing your doom? Is it not time to come to terms with yourself and the world?"

Flary blinked and touched the green pearl which he wore in is ear. He spoke in a halting voice: "To both questions, I reply in the affirmative, especially to the last. It is time and more than time that I think hard and deep upon such matters, and since there are many incidents and events to review, I hereby request a stay of execution."

The crier looked toward Lord Emmence. "Sir, is this request allowed or denied?"

"It is denied."

"Ah well, perhaps I have thought long enough," said Flary. "The priest has put a choice to me. I may either repent my sins and be shriven, and thereby ascend to the glories of paradise; or I may refuse to repent, and not be shriven, and thereby suffer forever the torments of Hell." Flary paused and looked around the crowd. "Lord Emmence, gentlefolk, of ail degrees! Know then; I have made my decision!" He paused again, and held his clenched fists dramatically high, and all the folk present leaned forward to learn fwhat Flary's decision might be.

Flary cried out: "I repent! I sorely regret those crimes which have brought me to my present shame! To each man, woman and child within my hearing I utter this advice: stray never an inch from the path of rectitude! Bear true faith to your earl, your father and mother and to the great Lord God, who I hope will now pardon my mistakes! Priest, come now! Shrive me my sins, and send me flying clean and pure heavenward where I may take my place among the angels of the sky and rejoice forever in transcendent bliss!"