Jalkan, now facing the prospect of hard, honest work for scant pay, turned instead to the last refuge of the scoundrel. Dressed in his most sober clothing and wearing a someberly pious expression, he began to attend holy services in the local Amarite convenium three or four times a day.
In due time, one of the minor Hieras in the hallowed convenium noticed Jalkan and brought him to the attention of the Oran as a potential member of the clergy. The Oran interviewed Jalkan and enrolled him as a novice, demanding scarcely more than a third of Jalkan’s very limited remaining assets as a sign of good faith.
Jalkan winced, but finally agreed.
His first few months as a very junior member of the clergy were moderately unpleasant, since the Amarite hierarchy devoted much effort to weeding out apprentices who were excessively unworthy. Jalkan was clever enough not to steal too much and to discredit those of his fellow novices who were overly honest or obviously more clever than he was.
His cunning was noted by his superiors, and it generally met with their approval.
Jalkan’s most immediate goal as a novice had been to take the next step up to the rank of Hiera. A Hiera in the Amarite faith was not required to do much hard labor, and he was even assigned his own room. The rooms of the Hieras were called ‘cells’, and they were very tiny, but they were far better than the rank-smelling first-floor dormitories where the novices were crammed together like cattle.
Because he was marginally literate, Jalkan’s duties as a Hiera were largely limited to administration, and he was somewhat startled to discover that nearly half of the Empire belonged to the Amarite church. The vast church estates produced much of the Empire’s food – for a handsome price – and the annual rent on various buildings in the capital city of Kaldacin brought in staggering amounts of money.
It was on a gloomy afternoon in late winter that Jalkan came across an ancient document that gave an account of the closing of a rundown convenium in one of the poorer districts of the imperial city of Kaldacin. If the time-faded document was correct, the structure had been closed for nearly a century, and the financial records of the church showed that it had not brought in so much as a single copper penny in all those years. If that were indeed the case, Jalkan realized that he could very well be the only man in the world who even knew of the existence of the building.
Overcome with curiosity, Jalkan bundled himself up in his heavy cloak and walked across town to the district where the convenium was supposedly located.
There was a crumbling old stone wall surrounding the tired-looking structure, and the building itself was quite nearly hidden by trees and bushes.
Jalkan was very disappointed. He’d hoped that the abandoned convenium might prove to be of some value, but it was quite obvious why the place wasn’t bringing in any money. A good sneeze would probably bring it tumbling down.
Then, even as he was turning away in disgust, his eye caught a faint glimmer of light coming through a crumbling board that partially covered one of the windows. Unless it happened to be on fire, the ancient building was obviously not as deserted as it had seemed at first glance.
That might turn out to be useful, so Jalkan clambered over a low place in the crumbling wall and approached the disreputable structure. As he drew closer, he began to hear some people talking inside. He raised up on his tiptoes to peer through the cracked board that covered the window.
Inside the supposedly empty convenium there was an extremely fat man seated at a rough table with a smoking lamp at one end, and the fat man was holding up a rather splendid metal tray. ‘This is solid silver, Esag. It’s worth a lot more than just one gold crown.’
‘I could maybe go as high as one and a half, Rabell, but it’s got that coat of arms engraved on it, so I can’t just put it in the window of my shop. If that silly aristocrat your people stole it from happens to walk by and sees it there, he’ll have the law on me before the sun goes down.’
Jalkan nearly choked. ‘It’s a den of thieves!’ he gasped, ‘and they’re not paying us so much as a penny for its use!’
‘I can let you have the tray for two crowns, Esag,’ the fat man conceded, ‘but that’s as low as I’ll go.’
‘You’re an out and out swindler, Rabell,’ Esag grumbled.
‘You don’t have to buy it if you don’t want to, Esag,’ the fat man said. ‘I’ve got a lot of other customers.’
Esag took two gold coins from his purse, slapped them down on the table, and left with the silver tray.
Then a burly-looking ruffian with a little girl at his side came out of the shadows. ‘You bargain real good, Rabell,’ he said in a raspy voice.
‘I could have that idiot for lunch any day of the week, Grol,’ Rabell sneered. He held out one of the gold crowns. ‘Here’s your half, good friend.’
‘I’ve been meaning to talk with you about that, Rabell,’ the ruffian said. ‘It seems to me that your arrangement just ain’t none too fair. I mean, Baby-Girl and me are sort of partners, and she ain’t getting her fair share.’
‘That’s between you and her, Grol. Half and half is our standard arrangement. You and Baby-Girl steal it, and I sell it.’
Grol grumbled a bit, but he did take the gold coin. ‘I don’t know how much longer Baby-Girl’s going to be able to do our stealing for us, Rabell,’ he said. ‘She’s growing awful fat for some reason, and it’s getting harder and harder for her to wiggle through them little windows to get inside them houses to steal stuff. It ain’t going to be too much longer afore I’ll have to find some new little child to do the stealing.’
‘That’s your problem, Grol,’ Rabell replied. ‘Now move along. There are quite a few other people waiting to show me what they’ve stolen.’
Jalkan did not sleep well that night. As a member of the clergy, it was his duty to bring the matter to the attention of his Oran, but he knew his superior well enough to be fairly sure that Oran Paldor would most probably approach the fat thief Rabell who was operating the business in the abandoned convenium and demand a sizeable share of the profits. He was almost positive also that Paldor would neglect to tell his superiors about the arrangement. Paldor would be most grateful to Jalkan, of course, but not quite grateful enough to share the profits.
There was an alternative, of course, and the alternative was much, much more attractive than doing his duty.
‘This is church property, Rabell,’ Jalkan told the fat man the next afternoon in the crumbling old convenium. ‘You can’t just walk in off the street and take it over without church permission. I think you might just be in a lot of trouble.’
‘Don’t get excited,’ Rabell told him with a note of resignation. ‘I’ll be out of here before the sun goes down.’
‘I didn’t say that you have to leave, Rabell. All I meant was that you should pay the church for the use of this splendid convenium. I think the term is “rent”. You can stay if you pay.’
‘Get to the point, Jalkan. How much do you want?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Half sounds about right to me.’
‘Forget it. I can set up shop in some other place.’
‘Don’t get excited, Rabell. That was only a suggestion. It’s open to negotiation.’
‘Not until you stop lying to me, it isn’t. The church has no part in this, and all the money I give you will go into your own purse. Isn’t that what you’ve