The tonsured clerk sat benignly in front of Bishop Laninga with ink-stained fingers delicately clasped together. His pale and pasty coloured skin a clear indication of his profession as a scholar and little time spent outdoors. Before him were a pile of thickly-bound books and scrolls, all reference materials he used to complete the unusual task given to him by the bishop. He sat with the confidence and self-assuredness, his lipless smile, ...