‘Of course. That is it, exactly.’
‘The infidel denies Christ, he believes in Mahomet. His skin is a different colour and his customs are infinitely at variance from yours, and though as human beings you share a common physical law – as do all living creatures – that is all you share. Here in France, however, the enemy is far more deceitful, far more cunning.’
‘Because the enemy here professes to believe what I believe?’
‘Yes, his customs, too, are your own, and he has your complexion, your colouring. He may be your neighbour your friend, even . . . your priest. He is not who he pretends to be.’
‘Who are you speaking of, master? The inquisitor or the church or the heretics?’ I asked.
‘All of them! Because even the faithful shepherd, whose task it is to guard the sheep from the hungry wolves, may be anticipating a good lamb stew! But we must begin at the beginning, if there is such a thing, for God had six days in which to create the world and how are we poor sinners to elucidate it in a few moments before mass?’
We entered the stables into the wonderful world of smells that are earthy and good, but murderous on my nasal passages. I sneezed twice in succession.
‘Now then, heresy,’ He sought Gilgamesh and found him in the stall next to Brutus. From a little repository in his habit he produced, as always, a morsel and fed it to him, patting the animal affectionately. ‘You have heard no doubt of the dualists?’ he continued, as though I should know what he was saying, ‘such as the Cathars, for they were renowned in these parts (as you have found out of late) and are the very form of heresy that we suspect here at this abbey in one form or another, but there are many more . . . and we do not want to be here all day! You see, one must also consider those who have diverged, even from the essence of heretical doctrine, and call themselves by other names, or no names at all!’
‘But that would mean that there are heretical heretics?’
‘Something like that.’
‘But how is one to tell one heretic from another when they are so similar that even the heretics become confused?’
‘It is only from a distance that they may seem that way because human nature is both complex in its distinctions and similar in its simplicity. From a distance one plant looks very much like another, and yet one may be poisonous, while another may be harmless. You see Gilgamesh? Is he not in substance a similar creature to Brutus?’
‘No, master, Gilgamesh is fiery of spirit, gallant, and speedy, while Brutus is slow, obstinate and exceedingly loud,’ I answered.
‘Yes, but you are only describing particulars, and not universals. If you were to see them from a great distance you would be hard-pressed to say that they were different.’
‘It would have to be a great distance,’ I retorted.
‘Let us look at it another way. They each have four legs, a neck, a tail. They both eat oats and grass, they breathe air and drink water?’
‘Yes, master, but Gilgamesh is a beautiful beast, high and slender. Your sight must not be as good these days if you can compare the two creatures.’
‘But, my boy!’ he cried, I believe exasperated. ‘That is not the point! Both creatures are in substance similar and yet different in temperament, and in particular qualities that distinguish them even from other animals in their own breed.’
‘And so you say that some heresies like Gilgamesh are better than others like Brutus?’
‘No, that is not what I meant!’ He sighed deeply. ‘I mean that one heresy, from a distance, may be similar to another by virtue of its body of dissent, but not, in proximity, by virtue of its accident.’
‘But they are both heresies. They are, like Gilgamesh and Brutus, of the same substance.’
‘Yes. All heretics have fallen from the one true way, but some have fallen further than others. Finally you understand!’
‘I think so, I see now that all heresies are evil and detestable.’
‘Ahh, but if we believe Aristotle when he says that the endeavour of a human being always aims at some good, then we must surmise that there is an element of virtue in all human thought.’
‘But if there were any measure of virtue in their heretical ideas, surely the church would not persecute them?’
He brought out one more morsel, popping it into the horse’s mouth, and proceeded to a thoughtful pause. ‘What is good and what is evil? Therein lies the key,’ he answered finally.
‘But that is plain and unquestionable.’
‘Is that so?’ my master asked, raising one eyebrow very high, and I knew that I had made a mistake. ‘Then perhaps you would like to elucidate this age-old problem for me and all the great philosophers who are now basking in heavenly glory and for whom this very question was never answered? No, I think not! You have far too much confidence in your own perspicacity, and this will, one day, lead to your undoing!’