The Astrologer - By Scott G.F. Bailey Page 0,26

laboratory.”

Charlatan? I bit down hard on my tongue.

“I need a man who knows the worth of Brahe’s abandoned toys, to conduct an inventory of them and provide me with a bill of sale.”

“Bill of sale, my lord?”

“These toys rusting on my island have been requested by the Holy Roman emperor, and I see no reason not to sell them to him. They will find themselves crated and shipped off by springtime.”

“To Prague, my lord?”

“Aye. You will prepare the inventory and negotiate the price with that idiot whom Rudolph has found to replace Brahe.”

“Kepler?”

“If it is Kepler, then yes. If it is some other man, so be it. Lord Ulfeldt has the pertinent names.”

The king waved a hand vaguely and turned to Ulfeldt. They began speaking of some other matter and I realized that I had been dismissed.

“Majesty!”

“Eh? You may speak to Ulfeldt on the morrow about the terms of your commission, Soren. I am concluded with you.”

“But you will remove Tycho’s instruments to Prague and allow that Kepler—that German cripple—to claim the greatest discoveries of the age? Majesty, you ought to keep these treasures and raise a new observatory. And more, there is a new invention, called the telescope. If my lord would only give me leave to have one built by his royal craftsmen in Copenhagen, the science of astronomy could remain Denmark’s triumph to intellectual greatness! The loss to science—”

I had been raving, and I knew it. The king meant to strip the last remnants of my master’s brilliant work from Denmark and turn over all that remained of Tycho’s legacy to a lot of foreigners. I had risen half out of my chair and all those at the table stared at me, I who dared lecture the king about a man he despised. I closed my mouth and dropped back into my chair.

“Forgive me, my king.”

To my great surprise, he laughed.

“I have been told how you love your new philosophy,” he said. “Such is the damage done by too much exposure to universities and too much time cloistered with madmen like Brahe. You have ever been clever, and a good servant to us. Your passion is misplaced, but still I admire a man of passion.”

The baboon had forgiven my rudeness. I swallowed and cast about for something meaningless to say.

“Majesty, my passion has ever been the philosophies.”

“Indeed, father.” Christian patted my arm as if I were his pet. “My old tutor has even written a book on the manner whereby the philosophy of discovery will improve the world.”

“Oh, rubbish,” Ulfeldt said.

I waved a hand and shrugged, a stupid smile upon my face. The conversation had just become worse, and I sought a way to end it.

“My book is nothing, my lord. I regret my ill behavior after his Majesty had dismissed the subject. I am happy now to be silent and eat my fruit.”

“Yet you intend to publish this book of yours?” Ulfeldt turned to Bishop Harlan. “This is the author of whom I told you yesterday. He calls for an end to our religion and a worship of Copernicus instead.”

“Lord Ulfeldt, I must protest!” I tried hard to laugh and maintain my forced smile. My laughter sounded like a babe wailing with colic. “I do not write that we should worship Copernicus, but that we ought worship God while at the same time look at the evidence of our own eyes.”

“You would put the Sun where the Earth stands?” The bishop had turned to me, his cheeks coloring. Had I been able to turn invisible, I would have. “By what right does the Sun— which by the evidence of all our eyes circles about us—think itself as noble as the Earth, from the soil of which God Himself formed man in His image? Put the Sun at the center of God’s universe? Madness, boy. Why not Venus, or Mars, then? Why not the moon, or one of the comets, or my slipper, or even the left bollock of the least dog in Denmark? Nay, this is chaos. Nothing but a striving toward nothingness. When all creation is equal, there will be nothing that matters. As with the Earth, so also our kings, the saints, and even our Redeemer, our God Himself. No. No, I say. Some things, young sir, are superior to others.”

It was a very quiet room when the bishop finished lecturing me. My face burned with shame and anger, but I held my tongue and looked down at my plate.

“You would have the king

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