The Warlock Heretical Read Online Free PDF Page B

who let some pimp seduce them into prostitution,
    then turn them into virtual slaves—and that was before they became saints. It's awfully hard to victimize someone who won't even let other people come near them. But you've got to admit, dear, that you can't do much
    about helping other people if you spend all your time praying. "
    "I scarcely think 'twas true of the saints. "
    "But it was true of some of them! They went off and turned into hermits. The ones who really worry me, though,
    are the ones who kept on living in their villages, but had to suffer through ridicule and ostracism, and had to
    ignore everybody around them. Sure, that was because they were only one out of two or three moral people in
    whole depraved towns—but is a seven-year-old really going to understand that?" Gwen reddened, but she pressed her lips tightly together.
    "Oh, yeah, sure, our seven-year-old! But don't give him credit for too much maturity, dear. Just because he
    understands everything the first time it's told to him doesn't mean he'll understand the things he's not being told!
    Say what you like—it is possible to be victimized by piety!"
    "Mayhap, " Gwen said, lips pressed tight, "yet I have never met one who hath suffered thus. "
    "Maybe not, but you must admit you've met people who don't dare do anything their parish priest has told them is
    wrong, for fear they'll die the next minute and spend eternity writhing in hellfire. " Gwen was silent, almost rigid.
    "Admit it! You've met them, scores of them—poor peasant folk who have no choice but to trust the priests,
    because they've never been taught how to think for themselves. "
    "I cannot deny it. " Owen's voice was low, but also dangerous. "Yet I have met more who are not. "
    "Maybe, but what really scares me is the number of educated people I've met who have the same hang-up! They
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    know how to think, but they're afraid to—because, after all, the priest must really know what's right or wrong,
    since that's his job. They haven't found out yet that if you ask two different priests the same question, sometimes
    you get two different answers. "
    "Why, how treacherous!"
    "Maybe, but it works. "

    "Yet 'tis also dishonest! 'Tis deceptive, 'tis—" "What was that? That word you were going to say there?
    'Sacrilegious, ' was it? Or maybe 'blasphemous'? As though questioning the priest were the same as defying
    God?" Rod shook his head. "No. A priest is just a man, and as human as any of us. When we forget that, we start
    asking him to take care of our consciences for us. "
    "What sayest thou!" Gwen glared up at him. "Why, when someone isn't sure what's right or wrong, and he's
    afraid to try to figure it out for himself—because if he guesses wrong, it's hellfire, for the rest of eternity!—he
    asks the priest to give him a verdict. And the priest just gives him an opinion, but the poor sinner takes it as
    Gospel truth. No, dear, I'm afraid I'd have to say that most people I know turn chicken when it comes to their
    souls. They'd much rather trust them to a specialist. "
    "Thou art but an arrogant knave, Rod Gallowglass!" Gwen leaped to her feet. "Thou dost but resent any who may
    be in authority over thee!"
    "You know that's not true. " Rod stood up slowly, matching her glare. "I take orders when I have to—when I'm
    convinced the other guy knows more about the matter than I do, and I have to take action. But I'm also capable of
    making up my own mind. "
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    "As are all! Thy slanders of other folk in this are born of overweening pride!"
    "There, you see?" Rod pointed a finger at her. "You're talking about hubris—thinking you're better than the gods.
    But a priest isn't a god any more than I am!"
    "And canst thou claim to be as close to God as one who doth devote his life to prayer?"
    "Yes, considering that I'm