Emma realized the dispute had deep roots and had grown complicated. "Wait," she said. "Did your sheep eat the grass in Gaston's pasture?"
"Yes, but he still owes me."
"We'll get to that later. You let your sheep into his pasture."
"I had my reasons."
"But that's what caused Gaston's calves to die."
The village chief, Gerbe, interjected, "Only this year's calves died. He still has last year's. He still has two yearling calves to pay the rent with."
Gaston said, "If I do that, I won't have any calves next year."
Emma felt that familiar dizziness she always got when trying to control a peasant squabble.
"Quiet, everyone," she said. "So, here is what we know. Bernard's sheep trespassed on Gaston's pasture. Perhaps he had his reasons—we will address that later. This led Gaston to believe he cannot pay his rent this year, which may or may not be true. Now I ask you, Gaston, is it true that you owe Bernard a calf? Answer yes or no."
"Yes."
"Then why haven't you given it to him?"
"I will. I just don't have the means to give it to him right now."
Gerbe said angrily, "How long are you going to drag this out!"
Emma listened patiently as Gaston explained why he had borrowed the calf from Bernard and the difficulties he now faced in repaying the debt. Meanwhile, a string of loosely related grievances were aired: perceived insults, their wives' mutual slanders, and arguments over the proper choice of words and tone.
Emma did not stop them. They needed to vent. But finally, she put a stop to it.
"I've heard enough," Emma said. "This is my decision. First, Gaston owes my father two yearling calves. That is not in dispute. His failure to pay rent is wrong. But he will not be punished for this mistake, because his hand was forced."
The crowd's reaction was mixed. Some muttered in disapproval, while others nodded. Gaston put on an expression of innocent grievance.
"Second, Bernard is responsible for the deaths of Gaston's two calves. Gaston's failure to repay his debt does not justify Bernard's sheep trespassing on his pasture. Therefore, Bernard owes Gaston two calves. However, since Gaston already owed Bernard one calf, Bernard now only needs to give Gaston a single calf."
Bernard was stunned. She was tougher than anyone had expected. But no one objected; her decision was legally binding.
"Finally, this dispute is not to be raised again. If anyone violates this order, Gerbe will be held responsible."
Gerbe said angrily, "My lady, may I have a word?"
"Certainly not," Emma said. "I gave you your chance to speak. Now it is my turn. Quiet."
Gerbe shut his mouth.
Emma said, "Gerbe is the village chief; this matter should have been settled long ago. I believe he only failed to do so because he was persuaded by his wife, Renie, who wanted him to favor his brother, Bernard."
Renie was mortified.
Emma continued, "Since Gerbe is partly at fault, he must forfeit a calf. I know he has one; I saw it in his yard. He will give that calf to Bernard, who in turn will give it to Gaston. Thus, the debt is settled, and the wrongdoer is punished."
She could immediately see the villagers approved of her judgment. She had upheld the rule of law, but had done so in a clever way. She saw people nodding to one another. Some were even smiling. No one voiced any opposition.
"Now," she said, standing up, "you can pour me a cup of that famous cider of yours. Gaston and Bernard can share a drink and make peace."
A buzz went through the crowd as they discussed what had just happened. Father Louis came to Emma's side. "Deborah was a judge of Israel," he said. "So that's the origin of your nickname."
"The first female judge in all of history."
Eric, ever the nuisance, reappeared before Father Louis to fill in the detail he'd missed.
"Of course I knew that!" Father Louis glared at Eric.
"Father Louis, what are your thoughts on England? I hear you were born there," Emma said, turning to the priest. He had been stone-faced since they'd set out, and his expression had only soured further after Eric's jab.
"Much like its gloomy weather, the place is rife with blasphemy against God. Men are not content with one wife, taking concubines like the Northern Barbarians. And most detestably, they even keep fellow Christians as slaves.
Enslaving fellow Christians has become commonplace, as if they do not know what sin is. It is for this reason that God's wrath descends upon this land time and again. Their suffering has long foretold that the English have strayed into heresy, yet those arrogant Sain (a title for the Anglo-Saxon nobility) turn a deaf ear.
The clergy here fawn over their superiors and abuse those beneath them. Some even use violence to coerce the faithful. Can a man who wields violence with such abandon still be called a Christian?"
Perhaps because Eric had been targeting him and he had no other outlet for his anger, he let loose a torrent of words, his disgust palpable.
In Western Europe, there is a distinction between serfs and slaves. The main difference is that serfs are not typically bought and sold and still possess certain rights, whereas slaves are not considered human at all and can be bought, sold, or even killed at will.
On the European Continent, it is believed that Christians should not enslave other Christians. Therefore, slaves were typically Saracens, Slavs, or Northern Barbarians. This was once the case in England as well, but the arrival of the Vikings reintroduced the practice of slavery.
"As for concubines, even the Franks do such things in secret. But keeping slaves is indeed too much. The King and my father are already working to correct it."
As far as Emma knew, the current King William was the illegitimate son of the old Duke of Normandy, who had forcibly taken a shoemaker's daughter as his mistress.
'She didn't think the Franks were so devout. Few men had the willpower to control their base desires.'
"But at least they know it is a sin! An unforgivable one. These people deny the Bible itself!"
"I know the rule of one husband, one wife comes from Adam and Eve. But as for the condemnation of slavery... I'm not sure where in the Bible that comes from, Father Louis."
Emma stopped short and abruptly posed the question to Father Louis.
She bent down and picked up a small stone.
"That..."
Father Louis, who had just been in the middle of a tirade, was suddenly at a loss for words.
Seeing Father Louis was clearly stumped, Emma gave her fingers a slight squeeze. The small stone flew out and struck Eric, who was off to the side watching two village women quarrel, instantly snapping him out of his gawking.
"Ahem."
Eric heard Emma's quiet murmur and understood what she wanted.
"Actually, the Bible doesn't explicitly state whether slavery should exist. The opposition to slavery is really because many people commit adultery and sodomy with their slaves.
Leviticus says: 'You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.'"
"I know that, of course," Father Louis muttered irritably.
Just then, Gaston, the man from the dispute, came jogging over and offered something to her.
"My lady, this is a pie I made. You must try it. I'm quite good at making them."
"Thank you, Gaston."
Emma accepted it. The pie was pale, and she could just make out a bit of egg and a few slices of pickled cucumber inside. It was cold to the touch, likely made in advance. It was probably his lunch.
"It's nothing, my lady. Thank you for clearing my name. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to make it through the winter."
Gaston was visibly moved.
"May God bless..."