The Abbot was a wizened, prune of a man. He hunched over a simple cane, carved from the trunk of an Ash tree, and gestured for Anso to come in.

“Thank you for coming, Brother. You have met Marsilius Cardinalus; also with him from the Vatican are Brothers Salonius, Calpurnius and Axius of the Holy Office.”

“Thank you, Father Abbot.” Anso beamed with excitement as he kissed the hand of the Cardinal and set about unloading his satchel onto a low stone table.

The older men shuffled about uncertainly, Brother Calpurnius’ wiry black and white beard hid the expression of confusion. “You do know why we are here, do you not young Anso?”

The younger Monk’s attentions were elsewhere as he set about arranging sheafs of punched vellum. He unlocked the case that held the heavy bulk of the machina and arranged it to be operated.

“We are not here as your Advocate.” This time it was Axius who spoke. The old goats all looked the same to Anso.

“We are here to determine whether your machina merits a charge of heresy.”