Monday, December 9, 2013

The Stone cries out.


““Woe to him who obtains profit from evil gain for his house,

    to set his nest on high,

    to be saved from the hand of misfortune!

You have plotted shame for your house,

    cutting off many peoples

    and sinning against your life.

For the stone will cry out from the wall,

    and the plaster from the wood will answer it.

Woe to him who builds a city by bloodguilt,

    and who founds a city by wickedness!

Look! Is it not from Yahweh of hosts

    that people labor for mere fire,

    and nations exhaust themselves for mere vanity?

For the earth will be filled

    with the knowledge of the glory of Yahweh,

    like the waters covering the sea.””

The voice of Ch’Voga carried up clearly to where Prudence and Jacques were conversing on the wall.  The would-be evangelist was just outside the slave gate of the courtyard where the fleshtrader guards had shoved him when he tried to give water and a sermon to their chattel.   Prudence, rubbing her temples, bowed her head and groaned, “God save me from this zealous idiot!”

Jacques, an old friend and captain of the lovely catamaran resting next to her sandboat below the rocks, smiled a sympathetic smile.  “Really, Prudy, he was making sense till he got to the water covering sea part.  He lost me there.  Quelle imagination!”

“I have no love for the fleshpeddlers either but it does us no good to anger them.  In fact, it could do us great ill.”

“They may seek to ban you from le marché, oui.”

“If that happens I will dump his ass in the middle of the Sea and let either the Sun or the Monotooths drink him dry.  His nonsense has probably already ruined my good name with Aedlin.  Now this!”

At that moment, their conversation was interrupted by a panting Kurga stumbling up the stairs, “There you are!  Have you heard?  I fear our religious fool may have gone and done something terribly noble and utterly rash!”

“I can plainly see what he is doing with my own eyes, thank you, coin-counter.”  Kurga told her what Ch’Voga had done then and though he was no stranger to foul talk, nor naïve, he was clearly taken aback at the curses she poured forth.

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