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ToMarie-Claire,
theappleofmyeye
ContentsContents
PROLOGUE
PARTONE
Chapter1
I
II
III
IV
V
Chapter2
I
II
III
Chapter3
I
II
III
Chapter4
I
II
III
PARTTWO
Chapter5
I
II
III
Chapter6
I
II
III
Chapter7
I
II
III
PARTTHREE
Chapter8
I
II
III
Chapter9
I
II
III
Chapter10
I
II
III
IV
V
PARTFOUR
Chapter11
I
II
Chapter12
I
II
Chapter13
I
II
III
PARTFIVE
Chapter14
I
II
Chapter15
I
II
III
Chapter16
I
II
III
IV
PARTSIX
Chapter17
Chapter18
I
II
III
IV
Acknowledgements
AboutTheAuthor
Onthenightof25November1120theWhiteShipsetoutforEnglandandfounderedoffBarfleurwithallhandssaveone....Thevesselwasthelatestthinginmarinetransport,fittedwithallthedevicesknowntotheshipbuilderofthetime....Thenotorietyofthiswreckisduetotheverylargenumberofdistinguishedpersonson
board;besidetheking’ssonandheir,thereweretworoyalbastards,severalearlsandbarons,andmostoftheroyalhousehold...itshistoricalsignificanceisthatitleftHenrywithoutanobviousheir...itsultimateresultwasthedisputedsuccessionandtheperiodofanarchywhichfollowedHenry’sdeath.
—A.L.POOLE,
FromDomesdayBooktoMagnaCarta
PROLOGUE1123
THESMALLBOYScameearlytothehanging.
Itwasstilldarkwhenthefirstthreeorfourofthemsidledoutofthehovels,quietascats
intheirfeltboots.Athinlayeroffreshsnowcoveredthelittletownlikeanewcoatofpaint,andtheirswerethefirstfootprintstoblemishitsperfectsurface.Theypickedtheirwaythroughthehuddledwoodenhutsandalongthestreetsoffrozenmudtothesilentmarketplace,wherethegallowsstoodwaiting.
Theboysdespisedeverythingtheireldersvalued.They
scornedbeautyandmockedgoodness.Theywouldhootwithlaughteratthesightofacripple,andiftheysawawoundedanimaltheywouldstoneittodeath.Theyboastedofinjuriesandworetheirscarswithpride,andtheyreservedtheirspecialadmirationformutilation:aboywithafingermissingcouldbetheirking.Theylovedviolence;theywouldrunmilestoseebloodshed;
andtheynevermissedahanging.
Oneoftheboyspiddledonthebaseofthescaffold.Anothermountedthesteps,puthisthumbstohisthroatandslumped,twistinghisfaceintoagrislyparodyofstrangulation:theotherswhoopedinadmiration,andtwodogscamerunningintothemarketplace,barking.Averyyoungboyrecklessly
begantoeatanapple,andoneoftheolderonespunchedhisnoseandtookhisapple.Theyoungboyrelievedhisfeelingsbythrowingasharpstoneatadog,sendingtheanimalhowlinghome.Thentherewasnothingelsetodo,sotheyallsquattedonthedrypavementintheporchofthebigchurch,waitingforsomethingtohappen.
Candlelightflickeredbehind
theshuttersofthesubstantialwoodandstonehousesaroundthesquare,thehomesofprosperouscraftsmenandtraders,asscullerymaidsandapprenticeboyslitfiresandheatedwaterandmadeporridge.Thecoloroftheskyturnedfromblacktogray.Thetownspeoplecameduckingoutoftheirlowdoorways,swathedinheavycloaksofcoarsewool,andwentshiveringdowntothe
rivertofetchwater.
Soonagroupofyoungmen,groomsandlaborersandapprentices,swaggeredintothemarketplace.Theyturnedthesmallboysoutofthechurchporchwithcuffsandkicks,thenleanedagainstthecarvedstonearches,scratchingthemselvesandspittingonthegroundandtalkingwithstudiedconfidenceaboutdeathby
hanging.Ifhe’slucky,saidone,hisneckbreaksassoonashefalls,aquickdeath,andpainless;butifnothehangsthereturningred,hismouthopeningandshuttinglikeafishoutofwater,untilhechokestodeath;andanothersaidthatdyinglikethatcantakethetimeamantakestowalkamile;andathirdsaiditcouldbeworsethanthat,hehadseenonewherebythetimethemandiedhisneck
wasafootlong.
Theoldwomenformedagroupontheoppositesideofthemarketplace,asfaraspossiblefromtheyoungmen,whowereliabletoshoutvulgarremarksattheirgrandmothers.Theyalwayswokeupearly,theoldwomen,eventhoughtheynolongerhadbabiesandchildrentoworryover;andtheywerethefirsttogettheir
fireslitandtheirhearthsswept.Theiracknowledgedleader,themuscularWidowBrewster,joinedthem,rollingabarrelofbeeraseasilyasachildrollsahoop.Beforeshecouldgetthelidofftherewasasmallcrowdofcustomerswaitingwithjugsandbuckets.
Thesheriffsbailiffopenedthemaingate,admittingthepeasantswholivedinthe
suburb,inthelean-tohousesagainstthetownwall.Somebroughteggsandmilkandfreshbuttertosell,somecametobuybeerorbread,andsomestoodinthemarketplaceandwaitedforthehanging.
Everynowandagainpeoplewouldcocktheirheads,likewarysparrows,andglanceupatthecastleonthehilltopabovethetown.Theysaw
smokerisingsteadilyfromthekitchen,andtheoccasionalflareofatorchbehindthearrow-slitwindowsofthestonekeep.Then,ataboutthetimethesunmusthavestartedtorisebehindthethickgraycloud,themightywoodendoorsopenedinthegatehouseandasmallgroupcameout.Thesheriffwasfirst,ridingafineblackcourser,followedbyanoxcartcarryingthebound
prisoner.Behindthecartrodethreemen,andalthoughtheirfacescouldnotbeseenatthatdistance,theirclothesrevealedthattheywereaknight,apriestandamonk.Twomen-at-armsbroughtuptherearoftheprocession.
Theyhadallbeenattheshirecourt,heldinthenaveofthechurch,thedaybefore.Thepriesthadcaughtthethiefred-handed;themonkhad
identifiedthesilverchaliceasbelongingtothemonastery;theknightwasthethief’slord,andhadidentifiedhimasarunaway;andthesheriffhadcondemnedhimtodeath.
Whiletheycameslowlydownthehill,therestofthetowngatheredaroundthegallows.Amongthelasttoarriveweretheleadingcitizens:thebutcher,thebaker,twoleathertanners,
twosmiths,thecutlerandthefletcher,allwiththeirwives.
Themoodofthecrowdwasodd.Normallytheyenjoyedahanging.Theprisonerwasusuallyathief,andtheyhatedthieveswiththepassionofpeoplewhosepossessionsarehard-earned.Butthisthiefwasdifferent.Nobodyknewwhohewasorwherehecamefrom.Hehadnotstolenfromthem,butfromamonastery
twentymilesaway.Andhehadstolenajeweledchalice,somethingwhosevaluewassogreatthatitwouldbevirtuallyimpossibletosell—whichwasnotlikestealingahamoranewknifeoragoodbelt,thelossofwhichwouldhurtsomeone.Theycouldnothateamanforacrimesopointless.Therewereafewjeersandcatcallsastheprisonerenteredthemarketplace,buttheabuse
washalf-hearted,andonlythesmallboysmockedhimwithanyenthusiasm.
Mostofthetownspeoplehadnotbeenincourt,forcourtdayswerenotholidaysandtheyallhadtomakealiving,sothiswasthefirsttimetheyhadseenthethief.Hewasquiteyoung,somewherebetweentwentyandthirtyyearsofage,andofnormalheightandbuild,but
otherwisehisappearancewasstrange.Hisskinwasaswhiteasthesnowontheroofs,hehadprotuberanteyesofstartlingbrightgreen,andhishairwasthecolorofapeeledcarrot.Themaidsthoughthewasugly;theoldwomenfeltsorryforhim;andthesmallboyslaugheduntiltheyfelldown.
Thesheriffwasafamiliarfigure,buttheotherthree
menwhohadsealedthethief’sdoomwerestrangers.Theknight,afleshymanwithyellowhair,wasclearlyapersonofsomeimportance,forherodeawar-horse,ahugebeastthatcostasmuchasacarpenterearnedintenyears.Themonkwasmucholder,perhapsfiftyormore,atall,thinmanwhosatslumpedinhissaddleasiflifewereawearisomeburdentohim.Moststrikingwasthe
priest,ayoungmanwithasharpnoseandlankblackhair,wearingblackrobesandridingachestnutstallion.Hehadanalert,dangerouslook,likeablackcatthatcouldsmellanestofbabymice.
Asmallboytookcarefulaimandspatattheprisoner.Itwasagoodshotandcaughthimbetweentheeyes.Hesnarledacurseandlungedatthespitter,buthewas
restrainedbytheropesattachinghimtothesidesofthecart.TheincidentwasnotremarkableexceptthatthewordshespokewereNormanFrench,thelanguageofthelords.Washehigh-born,then?Orjustalongwayfromhome?Nobodyknew.
Theoxcartstoppedbeneaththegallows.Thesheriff’sbailiffclimbedontotheflatbedofthecartwiththe
nooseinhishand.Theprisonerstartedtostruggle.Theboyscheered—theywouldhavebeendisappointediftheprisonerhadremainedcalm.Theman’smovementswererestrictedbytheropestiedtohiswristsandankles,buthejerkedhisheadfromsidetoside,evadingthenoose.Afteramomentthebailiff,ahugeman,steppedbackandpunchedtheprisonerinthe
stomach.Themandoubledover,winded,andthebailiffslippedtheropeoverhisheadandtightenedtheknot.Thenhejumpeddowntothegroundandpulledtheropetaut,securingitsotherendtoahookinthebaseofthegallows.
Thiswastheturningpoint.Iftheprisonerstrugglednow,hewouldonlydiesooner.
Themen-at-armsuntiedtheprisoner’slegsandlefthimstandingaloneonthebedofthecart,hishandsboundbehindhisback.Ahushfellonthecrowd.
Therewasoftenadisturbanceatthispoint:theprisoner’smotherwouldhaveascreamingfit,orhiswifewouldpulloutaknifeandrushtheplatforminalast-minuteattempttorescuehim.
SometimestheprisonercalleduponGodforforgivenessorpronouncedblood-curdlingcursesonhisexecutioners.Themen-at-armsnowstationedthemselvesoneithersideofthescaffold,readytodealwithanyincident.
Thatwaswhentheprisonerbegantosing.
Hehadahightenorvoice,verypure.Thewordswere
French,buteventhosewhocouldnotunderstandthelanguagecouldtellbyitsplaintivemelodythatitwasasongofsadnessandloss.
Alark,caughtinahunter’snet
Sangsweeterthenthanever,
Asifthefallingmelody
Mightwingandnetdissever.
Ashesanghelookeddirectlyatsomeoneinthecrowd.Graduallyaspaceformedaroundtheperson,andeveryonecouldseeher.
Shewasagirlofaboutfifteen.Whenpeoplelookedathertheywonderedwhytheyhadnotnoticedherbefore.Shehadlongdark-
brownhair,thickandrich,whichcametoapointonherwideforeheadinwhatpeoplecalledadevil’speak.Shehadregularfeaturesandasensual,full-lippedmouth.Theoldwomennoticedherthickwaistandheavybreasts,concludedthatshewaspregnant,andguessedthattheprisonerwasthefatherofherunbornchild.Buteveryoneelsenoticednothingexcepthereyes.Shemighthave
beenpretty,butshehaddeep-set,intenseeyesofastartlinggoldencolor,soluminousandpenetratingthatwhenshelookedatyou,youfeltshecouldseerightintoyourheart,andyouavertedyoureyes,scaredthatshewoulddiscoveryoursecrets.Shewasdressedinrags,andtearsstreameddownhersoftcheeks.
Thedriverofthecartlooked
expectantlyatthebailiff.Thebailifflookedatthesheriff,waitingforthenod.Theyoungpriestwiththesinisterairnudgedthesheriffimpatiently,butthesherifftooknonotice.Heletthethiefcarryonsinging.Therewasadreadfulpausewhiletheuglyman’slovelyvoicehelddeathatbay.
Atduskthehuntertookhisprey,
Thelarkhisfreedomnever.
Allbirdsandmenaresuretodie
Butsongsmayliveforever.
Whenthesongendedthesherifflookedatthebailiffandnodded.Thebailiff
shouted“Hup!”andlashedtheox’sflankwithalengthofrope.Thecartercrackedhiswhipatthesametime.Theoxsteppedforward,theprisonerstandinginthecartstaggered,theoxpulledthecartaway,andtheprisonerdroppedintomidair.Theropestraightenedandthethief’sneckbrokewithasnap.
Therewasascream,andeveryonelookedatthegirl.
Itwasnotshewhohadscreamed,butthecutler’swifebesideher.Butthegirlwasthecauseofthescream.Shehadsunktoherkneesinfrontofthegallows,withherarm!stretchedoutinfrontofher,thepositionadoptedtoutteracurse.Thepeopleshrankfromherinfear:everyoneknewthatthecursesofthosewhohadsufferedinjusticewereparticularlyeffective,andtheyhadall
suspectedthatsomethingwasnotquiterightaboutthishanging.Thesmallboyswereterrified.
Thegirlturnedherhypnoticgoldeneyesonthethreestrangers,theknight,themonkandthepriest;andthenshepronouncedhercurse,callingouttheterriblewordsinringingtones:“Icurseyouwithsicknessandsorrow,withhungerandpain;your
houseshallbeconsumedbyfire,andyourchildrenshalldieonthegallows;yourenemiesshallprosper,andyoushallgrowoldinsadnessandregret,anddieinfoulnessandagony....”Asshespokethelastwordsthegirlreachedintoasackonthegroundbesideherandpulledoutalivecockerel.Aknifeappearedinherhandfromnowhere,andwithonesliceshecutofftheheadofthe
cock.
Whilethebloodwasstillspurtingfromtheseveredneckshethrewthebeheadedcockatthepriestwiththeblackhair.Itfellshort,butthebloodsprayedoverhim,andoverthemonkandtheknightoneithersideofhim.Thethreementwistedawayinloathing,butbloodlandedoneachofthem,spatteringtheirfacesandstainingtheir
garments.
Thegirlturnedandran.
Thecrowdopenedinfrontofherandclosedbehindher.Forafewmomentstherewaspandemonium.Atlastthesheriffcaughttheattentionofhismen-at-armsandangrilytoldthemtochaseher.Theybegantostrugglethroughthecrowd,roughlypushingmenandwomenandchildrenout
oftheway,butthegirlwasoutofsightinatwinkling,andthoughthesheriffwouldsearchforher,heknewhewouldnotfindher.
Heturnedawayindisgust.Theknight,themonkandthepriesthadnotwatchedtheflightofthegirl.Theywerestillstaringatthegallows.Thesherifffollowedtheirgaze.Thedeadthiefhungattheendoftherope,hispale
youngfacealreadyturningbluish,whilebeneathhisgentlyswingingcorpsethecock,headlessbutnotquitedead,ranaroundinaraggedcircleonthebloodstainedsnow.
PARTONE1135-1136
Chapter1
I
INABROADVALLEY,atthefootofaslopinghillside,besideaclearbubblingstream,Tomwasbuildingahouse.
Thewallswerealreadythreefeethighandrisingfast.The
twomasonsTomhadengagedwereworkingsteadilyinthesunshine,theirtrowelsgoingscrape,slapandthentap,tapwhiletheirlaborersweatedundertheweightofthebigstoneblocks.Tom’ssonAlfredwasmixingmortar,countingaloudashescoopedsandontoaboard.Therewasalsoacarpenter,workingatthebenchbesideTom,carefullyshapingalengthofbeech
woodwithanadz.
Alfredwasfourteenyearsold,andtalllikeTom.Tomwasaheadhigherthanmostmen,andAlfredwasonlyacoupleofinchesless,andstillgrowing.Theylookedalike,too:bothhadlight-brownhairandgreenisheyeswithbrownflecks.Peoplesaidtheywereahandsomepair.ThemaindifferencebetweenthemwasthatTomhadacurlybrown
beard,whereasAlfredhadonlyafineblondfluff.ThehaironAlfred’sheadhadbeenthatcoloronce,Tomrememberedfondly.NowthatAlfredwasbecomingaman,Tomwishedhewouldtakeamoreintelligentinterestinhiswork,forhehadalottolearnifhewastobeamasonlikehisfather;butsofarAlfredremainedboredandbaffledbytheprinciplesofbuilding.
Whenthehousewasfinisheditwouldbethemostluxurioushomeformilesaround.Thegroundfloorwouldbeaspaciousundercroft,forstorage,withacurvedvaultforaceiling,sothatitwouldnotcatchfire.Thehall,wherepeopleactuallylived,wouldbeabove,reachedbyanoutsidestaircase,itsheightmakingithardtoattackandeasytodefend.Againstthehallwall
therewouldbeachimney,totakeawaythesmokeofthefire.Thiswasaradicalinnovation:Tomhadonlyeverseenonehousewithachimney,butithadstruckhimassuchagoodideathathewasdeterminedtocopyit.Atoneendofthehouse,overthehall,therewouldbeasmallbedroom,forthatwaswhatearls’daughtersdemandednowadays—theyweretoofinetosleepinthe
hallwiththemenandtheservingwenchesandthehuntingdogs.Thekitchenwouldbeaseparatebuilding,foreverykitchencaughtfiresoonerorlater,andtherewasnothingforitbuttobuildthemfarawayfromeverythingelseandputupwithlukewarmfood.
Tomwasmakingthedoorwayofthehouse.Thedoorpostswouldberounded
tolooklikecolumns—atouchofdistinctionforthenoblenewlywedswhoweretolivehere.Withhiseyeontheshapedwoodentemplatehewasusingasaguide,Tomsethisironchiselobliquelyagainstthestoneandtappeditgentlywiththebigwoodenhammer.Asmallshoweroffragmentsfellawayfromthesurface,leavingtheshapealittlerounder.Hediditagain.Smoothenoughfora
cathedral.
Hehadworkedonacathedralonce—Exeter.Atfirsthehadtreateditlikeanyotherjob.Hehadbeenangryandresentfulwhenthemasterbuilderhadwarnedhimthathisworkwasnotquiteuptostandard:heknewhimselftoberathermorecarefulthantheaveragemason.Butthenherealizedthatthewallsofacathedralhadtobenotjust
good,butperfect.ThiswasbecausethecathedralwasforGod,andalsobecausethebuildingwassobigthattheslightestleaninthewalls,themerestvariationfromtheabsolutelytrueandlevel,couldweakenthestructurefatally.Tom’sresentmentturnedtofascination.ThecombinationofahugelyambitiousbuildingwithmercilessattentiontothesmallestdetailopenedTom’s
eyestothewonderofhiscraft.HelearnedfromtheExetermasterabouttheimportanceofproportion,thesymbolismofvariousnumbers,andthealmostmagicalformulasforworkingoutthecorrectwidthofawallortheangleofastepinaspiralstaircase.Suchthingscaptivatedhim.Hewassurprisedtolearnthatmanymasonsfoundthemincomprehensible.
AfterawhileTomhadbecomethemasterbuilder’sright-handman,andthatwaswhenhebegantoseethemaster’sshortcomings.Themanwasagreatcraftsmanandanincompetentorganizer.Hewascompletelybaffledbytheproblemsofobtainingtherightquantityofstonetokeeppacewiththemasons,makingsurethattheblacksmithmadeenoughoftherighttools,burninglime
andcartingsandforthemortarmakers,fellingtreesforthecarpenters,andgettingenoughmoneyfromthecathedralchaptertopayforeverything.
IfTomhadstayedatExeteruntilthemasterbuilderdied,hemighthavebecomemasterhimself;butthechapterranoutofmoney—partlybecauseofthemaster’smismanagement—andthe
craftsmenhadtomoveon,lookingforworkelsewhere.TomhadbeenofferedthepostofbuildertotheExetercastellan,repairingandimprovingthecity’sfortifications.Itwouldhavebeenalifetimejob,barringaccidents.ButTomhadturneditdown,forhewantedtobuildanothercathedral.
Hiswife,Agnes,hadneverunderstoodthatdecision.
Theymighthavehadagoodstonehouse,andservants,andtheirownstables,andmeatonthetableeverydinnertime;andshehadneverforgivenTomforturningdowntheopportunity.Shecouldnotcomprehendtheirresistibleattractionofbuildingacathedral:theabsorbingcomplexityoforganization,theintellectualchallengeofthecalculations,thesheersizeofthewalls,
andthebreathtakingbeautyandgrandeurofthefinishedbuilding.Oncehehadtastedthatwine,Tomwasneversatisfiedwithanythingless.
Thathadbeentenyearsago.Sincethentheyhadneverstayedanywhereforverylong.Hewoulddesignanewchapterhouseforamonastery,workforayearortwoonacastle,orbuildatownhouseforarich
merchant;butassoonashehadsomemoneysavedhewouldleave,withhiswifeandchildren,andtaketotheroad,lookingforanothercathedral.
HeglancedupfromhisbenchandsawAgnesstandingattheedgeofthebuildingsite,holdingabasketoffoodinonehandandrestingabigjugofbeerontheoppositehip.Itwasmidday.Helookedather
fondly.Noonewouldevercallherpretty,butherfacewasfullofstrength:abroadforehead,largebrowneyes,astraightnose,astrongjaw.Herdark,wiryhairwaspartedinthemiddleandtiedbehind.ShewasTom’ssoulmate.
ShepouredbeerforTomandAlfred.Theystoodthereforamoment,thetwobigmenandthestrongwoman,drinking
beerfromwoodencups;andthenthefourthmemberofthefamilycameskippingoutofthewheatfield:Martha,sevenyearsoldandasprettyasadaffodil,butadaffodilwithapetalmissing,forshehadagapwheretwomilkteethhadfallenoutandthenewoneshadnotyetgrown.SherantoTom,kissedhisdustybeard,andbeggedasipofhisbeer.Hehuggedherbonybody.“Don’tdrinktoo
much,oryou’llfallintoaditch,”hesaid.Shestaggeredaroundinacircle,pretendingtobedrunk.
Theyallsatdownonthewoodpile.AgneshandedTomahunkofwheatbread,athicksliceofboiledbaconandasmallonion.Hetookabiteofthemeatandstartedtopeeltheonion.Agnesgavethechildrenfoodandbegantoeatherown.Perhapsitwas
irresponsible,Tomthought,toturndownthatdulljobinExeterandgolookingforacathedraltobuild;butI’vealwaysbeenabletofeedthemall,despitemyrecklessness.
Hetookhiseatingknifefromthefrontpocketofhisleatherapron,cutasliceofftheonion,andateitwithabiteofbread.Theonionwassweetandstinginginhismouth.Agnessaid:“I’mwithchild
again.”
Tomstoppedchewingandstaredather.Athrillofdelighttookholdofhim.Notknowingwhattosay,hejustsmiledfoolishlyather.Afterafewmomentssheblushed,andsaid:“Itisn’tthatsurprising.”
Tomhuggedher.“Well,well,”hesaid,stillgrinningwithpleasure.“Ababetopull
mybeard.AndIthoughtthenextwouldbeAlfred’s.”
“Don’tgettoohappyyet,”Agnescautioned.“It’sbadlucktonamethechildbeforeit’sborn.”
Tomnoddedassent.Agneshadhadseveralmiscarriagesandonestillbornbaby,andtherehadbeenanotherlittlegirl,Matilda,whohadlivedonlytwoyears.“I’dlikea
boy,though,”hesaid.“NowthatAlfred’ssobig.Whenisitdue?”
“AfterChristmas.”
Tombegantocalculate.Theshellofthehousewouldbefinishedbyfirstfrost,thenthestoneworkwouldhavetobecoveredwithstrawtoprotectitthroughthewinter.Themasonswouldspendthecoldmonthscuttingstones
forwindows,vaults,doorcasesandthefireplace,whilethecarpentermadefloorboardsanddoorsandshuttersandTombuiltthescaffoldingfortheupstairswork.Theninspringtheywouldvaulttheundercroft,floorthehallaboveit,andputontheroof.ThejobwouldfeedthefamilyuntilWhitsun,bywhichtimethebabywouldbehalfayearold.Thentheywouldmoveon.
“Good,”hesaidcontentedly.“Thisisgood.”Heateanothersliceofonion.
“I’mtoooldtobearchildren,”Agnessaid.“Thismustbemylast.”
Tomthoughtaboutthat.Hewasnotsurehowoldshewas,innumbers,butplentyofwomenborechildrenathertimeoflife.However,itwastruetheysufferedmoreas
theygrewolder,andthebabieswerenotsostrong.Nodoubtshewasright.Buthowwouldshemakecertainthatshewouldnotconceiveagain?hewondered.Thenherealizedhow,andacloudshadowedhissunnymood.
“Imaygetagoodjob,inatown,”hesaid,tryingtomollifyher.“Acathedral,orapalace.Thenwemighthaveabighousewithwoodfloors,
andamaidtohelpyouwiththebaby.”
Herfacehardened,andshesaidskeptically:“Itmaybe.”Shedidnotliketoheartalkofcathedrals.IfTomhadneverworkedonacathedral,herfacesaid,shemightbelivinginatownhousenow,withmoneysavedupandburiedunderthefireplace,andnothingtoworryabout.
Tomlookedawayandtookanotherbiteofbacon.Theyhadsomethingtocelebrate,buttheywereindisharmony.Hefeltletdown.Hechewedthetoughmeatforawhile,thenheheardahorse.Hecockedhisheadtolisten.Theriderwascomingthroughthetreesfromthedirectionoftheroad,takingashortcutandavoidingthevillage.
Amomentlater,ayoungman
onaponytrottedupanddismounted.Helookedlikeasquire,akindofapprenticeknight.“Yourlordiscoming,”hesaid.
Tomstoodup.“YoumeanLordPercy?”PercyHamleighwasoneofthemostimportantmeninthecountry.Heownedthisvalley,andmanyothers,andhewaspayingforthehouse.
“Hisson,”saidthesquire.
“YoungWilliam.”Percy’sson,William,wastooccupythishouseafterhismarriage.HewasengagedtoLadyAliena,thedaughteroftheearlofShiring.
“Thesame,”saidthesquire.“Andinarage.”
Tom’sheartsank.Atthebestoftimesitcouldbedifficult
todealwiththeownerofahouseunderconstruction.Anownerinaragewasimpossible.“What’sheangryabout?”
“Hisbriderejectedhim.”
“Theearl’sdaughter?”saidTominsurprise.Hefeltapangoffear:hehadjustbeenthinkinghowsecurehisfuturewas.“Ithoughtthatwassettled.”
“Sodidweall—excepttheLadyAliena,itseems,”thesquiresaid.“Themomentshemethim,sheannouncedthatshewouldn’tmarryhimforalltheworldandawoodcock.”
Tomfrownedworriedly.Hedidnotwantthistobetrue.“Buttheboy’snotbad-looking,asIrecall.”
Agnessaid:“Asifthatmade
anydifference,inherposition.Ifearls’daughterswereallowedtomarrywhomtheyplease,we’dallberuledbystrollingminstrelsanddark-eyedoutlaws.”
“Thegirlmayyetchangehermind,”Tomsaidhopefully.
“Shewillifhermothertakesabirchrodtoher,”Agnessaid.
Thesquiresaid:“Hermother’sdead.”
Agnesnodded.“Thatexplainswhyshedoesn’tknowthefactsoflife.ButIdon’tseewhyherfathercan’tcompelher.”
Thesquiresaid:“Itseemsheoncepromisedhewouldnevermarryhertosomeoneshehated.”
“Afoolishpledge!”Tomsaidangrily.Howcouldapowerfulmantiehimselftothewhimofagirlinthatway?Hermarriagecouldaffectmilitaryalliances,baronialfinances...eventhebuildingofthishouse.
Thesquiresaid:“Shehasabrother,soit’snotsoimportantwhomshemarries.”
“Evenso...”
“Andtheearlisanunbendingman,”thesquirewenton.“Hewon’tgobackonapromise,evenonemadetoachild.”Heshrugged.“Sotheysay.”
Tomlookedatthelowstonewallsofthehouse-to-be.Hehadnotyetsavedenoughmoneytokeepthefamilythroughthewinter,he
realizedwithachill.“Perhapstheladwillfindanotherbridetosharethisplacewithhim.He’sgotthewholecountytochoosefrom.”
Alfredspokeinacrackedadolescentvoice.“ByChrist,Ithinkthisishim.”Followinghisgaze,theyalllookedacrossthefield.Ahorsewascomingfromthevillageatagallop,kickingupacloudofdustandearthfrom
thepathway.Alfred’soathwaspromptedbythesizeaswellasthespeedofthehorse:itwashuge.Tomhadseenbeastslikeitbefore,butperhapsAlfredhadnot.Itwasawar-horse,ashighatthewitherasaman’schin,andbroadinproportion.Suchwar-horseswerenotbredinEngland,butcamefromoverseas,andwereenormouslycostly.
Tomdroppedtheremainsofhisbreadinthepocketofhisapron,thennarrowedhiseyesagainstthesunandgazedacrossthefield.Thehorsehaditsearsbackandnostrilsflared,butitseemedtoTomthatitsheadwaswellup,asignthatitwasnotcompletelyoutofcontrol.Sureenough,asitcameclosertheriderleanedback,haulingonthereins,andthehugeanimalseemedtoslowa
little.NowTomcouldfeelthedrummingofitshoovesinthegroundbeneathhisfeet.HelookedaroundforMartha,thinkingtopickherupandputheroutofharm’sway.Agneshadthesamethought.ButMarthawasnowheretobeseen.
“Inthewheat,”Agnessaid,butTomhadalreadyfiguredthatoutandwasstridingacrossthesitetotheedgeof
thefield.Hescannedthewavingwheatwithfearinhisheartbuthecouldnotseethechild.
Theonlythinghecouldthinkofwastotrytoslowthehorse.Hesteppedintothepathandbegantowalktowardthechargingbeast,holdinghisarmswide.Thehorsesawhim,raiseditsheadforabetterlook,andslowedperceptibly.Then,toTom’s
horror,theriderspurrediton.
“Youdamnedfool!”Tomroared,althoughtheridercouldnothear.
ThatwaswhenMarthasteppedoutofthefieldandintothepathwayafewyardsinfrontofTom.
ForaninstantTomstoodstillinasickpanic.Thenheleapedforward,shoutingand
wavinghisarms;butthiswasawar-horse,trainedtochargeatyellinghordes,anditdidnotflinch.Marthastoodinthemiddleofthenarrowpath,staringasiftransfixedbythehugebeastbearingdownonher.TherewasamomentwhenTomrealizeddesperatelythathecouldnotgettoherbeforethehorsedid.Heswervedtooneside,hisarmtouchingthestandingwheat;andatthelastinstant
thehorseswervedtotheotherside.Therider’sstirrupbrushedMartha’sfinehair;ahoofstampedaroundholeinthegroundbesideherbarefoot;thenthehorsehadgoneby,sprayingthembothwithdirt,andTomsnatchedherupinhisarmsandheldhertighttohispoundingheart.
Hestoodstillforamoment,awashwithrelief,hislimbsweak,hisinsideswatery.
Thenhefeltasurgeoffuryattherecklessnessofthestupidyouthonhismassivewar-horse.Helookedupangrily.LordWilliamwasslowingthehorsenow,sittingbackinthesaddle,withhisfeetpushedforwardinthestirrups,sawingonthereins.Thehorseswervedtoavoidthebuildingsite.Ittosseditsheadandthenbucked,butWilliamstayedon.Heslowedittoacanterandthenatrotas
heguideditaroundinawidecircle.
Marthawascrying.TomhandedhertoAgnesandwaitedforWilliam.Theyounglordwasatall,well-builtfellowofabouttwentyyears,withyellowhairandnarroweyeswhichmadehimlookasifhewerealwayspeeringintothesun.Heworeashortblacktunicwithblackhose,andleathershoeswith
strapscrisscrosseduptohisknees.Hesatwellonthehorseanddidnotseemshakenbywhathadhappened.Thefoolishboydoesn’tevenknowwhathe’sdone,Tomthoughtbitterly.I’dliketowringhisneck.
Williamhaltedthehorseinfrontofthewoodpileandlookeddownatthebuilders.“Who’sinchargehere?”hesaid.
TomwantedtosayIfyouhadhurtmylittlegirl,Iwouldhavekilledyou,buthesuppressedhisrage.Itwaslikeswallowingabittermouthful.Heapproachedthehorseandhelditsbridle.“I’mthemasterbuilder,”hesaidtightly.“MynameisTom.”
“Thishouseisnolongerneeded,”saidWilliam.“Dismissyourmen.”
ItwaswhatTomhadbeendreading.ButheheldontothehopethatWilliamwasbeingimpetuousinhisanger,andmightbepersuadedtochangehismind.Withaneffort,hemadehisvoicefriendlyandreasonable.“Butsomuchworkhasbeendone,”hesaid.“Whywastewhatyou’vespent?You’llneedthehouseoneday.”
“Don’ttellmehowto
managemyaffairs,TomBuilder,”saidWilliam.“You’realldismissed.”Hetwitchedarein,butTomhadholdofthebridle.“Letgoofmyhorse,”Williamsaiddangerously.
Tomswallowed.InamomentWilliamwouldtrytogetthehorse’sheadup.Tomfeltinhisapronpocketandbroughtoutthecrustofbreadhehadbeeneating.Heshoweditto
thehorse,whichdippeditsheadandtookabite.“There’smoretobesaid,beforeyouleave,mylord,”hesaidmildly.
Williamsaid:“Letmyhorsego,orI’lltakeyourheadoff.”Tomlookeddirectlyathim,tryingnottoshowhisfear.HewasbiggerthanWilliam,butthatwouldmakenodifferenceiftheyounglorddrewhissword.
Agnesmutteredfearfully:“Doasthelordsays,husband.”
Therewasdeadsilence.Theotherworkmenstoodasstillasstatues,watching.Tomknewthattheprudentthingwouldbetogivein.ButWilliamhadnearlytrampledTom’slittlegirl,andthatmadeTommad,sowitharacinghearthesaid:“Youhavetopayus.”
Williampulledonthereins,butTomheldthebridletight,andthehorsewasdistracted,nuzzlinginTom’sapronpocketformorefood.“Applytomyfatherforyourwages!”Williamsaidangrily.
Tomheardthecarpentersayinaterrifiedvoice:“We’lldothat,mylord,thankingyouverymuch.”
Wretchedcoward,Tom
thought,buthewastremblinghimself.Neverthelessheforcedhimselftosay:“Ifyouwanttodismissus,youmustpayus,accordingtothecustom.Yourfather’shouseistwodays’walkfromhere,andwhenwearrivehemaynotbethere.”
“Menhavediedforlessthanthis,”Williamsaid.Hischeeksreddenedwithanger.
Outofthecornerofhiseye,Tomsawthesquiredrophishandtothehiltofhissword.Heknewheshouldgiveupnow,andhumblehimself,buttherewasanobstinateknotofangerinhisbelly,andasscaredashewashecouldnotbringhimselftoreleasethebridle.“Payusfirst,thenkillme,”hesaidrecklessly.“Youmayhangforit,oryoumaynot;butyou’lldiesoonerorlater,andthenIwillbein
heavenandyouwillbeinhell.”
ThesneerfrozeonWilliam’sfaceandhepaled.Tomwassurprised:whathadfrightenedtheboy?Notthementionofhanging,surely:itwasnotreallylikelythatalordwouldbehangedforthemurderofacraftsman.Washeterrifiedofhell?
Theystaredatoneanotherfor
afewmoments.TomwatchedwithamazementandreliefasWilliam’ssetexpressionofangerandcontemptmeltedaway,tobereplacedbyapanickyanxiety.AtlastWilliamtookaleatherpursefromhisbeltandtossedittohissquire,saying:“Paythem.”
AtthatpointTompushedhisluck.WhenWilliampulledonthereinsagain,andthe
horselifteditsstrongheadandsteppedsideways,Tommovedwiththehorseandheldontothebridle,andsaid:“Afullweek’swagesondismissal,thatisthecustom.”HeheardasharpintakeofbreathfromAgnes,justbehindhim,andheknewshethoughthewascrazytoprolongtheconfrontation.Butheplowedon.“That’ssixpenceforthelaborer,twelveforthecarpenterand
eachofthemasons,andtwenty-fourpenceforme.Sixty-sixpenceinall.”Hecouldaddpenniesfasterthananyoneheknew.
Thesquirewaslookinginquiringlyathismaster.Williamsaidangrily:“Verywell.”
Tomreleasedthebridleandsteppedback.
Williamturnedthehorseandkickedithard,anditboundedforwardontothepaththroughthewheatfield.
Tomsatdownsuddenlyonthewoodpile.Hewonderedwhathadgotintohim.IthadbeenmadtodefyLordWilliamlikethat.Hefeltluckytobealive.
ThehoofbeatsofWilliam’swar-horsefadedtoadistant
thunder,andhissquireemptiedthepurseontoaboard.Tomfeltasurgeoftriumphasthesilverpenniestumbledoutintothesunshine.Ithadbeenmad,butithadworked:hehadsecuredjustpaymentforhimselfandthemenworkingunderhim.“Evenlordsoughttofollowthecustoms,”hesaid,halftohimself.
Agnesheardhim.“Justhope
you’reneverinwantofworkfromLordWilliam,”shesaidsourly.
Tomsmiledather.Heunderstoodthatshewaschurlishbecauseshehadbeenfrightened.“Don’tfrowntoomuch,oryou’llhavenothingbutcurdledmilkinyourbreastswhenthatbabyisborn.”
“Iwon’tbeabletofeedany
ofusunlessyoufindworkforthewinter.”
“Thewinter’salongwayoff,”saidTom.
II
Theystayedatthevillagethroughthesummer.Later,theycametoregardthisdecisionasaterriblemistake,butatthetimeitseemedsensibleenough,forTomand
AgnesandAlfredcouldeachearnapennyadayworkinginthefieldsduringtheharvest.Whenautumncame,andtheyhadtomoveon,theyhadaheavybagofsilverpenniesandafatpig.
Theyspentthefirstnightintheporchofavillagechurch,butonthesecondtheyfoundacountryprioryandtookadvantageofmonastichospitality.Onthethirdday
theyfoundthemselvesintheheartoftheChuteForest,avastexpanseofscrubandroughwoodland,onaroadnotmuchbroaderthanthewidthofanoxcart,withtheluxuriantgrowthofsummerdyingbetweentheoaksoneitherside.
Tomcarriedhissmallertoolsinasatchelandslunghishammersfromhisbelt.Hehadhiscloakinabundle
underhisleftarmandhecarriedhisironspikeinhisrighthand,usingitasawalkingstick.Hewashappytobeontheroadagain.Hisnextjobmightbeworkingonacathedral.Hemightbecomemastermasonandstaytheretherestofhislife,andbuildachurchsowonderfulitwouldguaranteethathewenttoheaven.
Agneshadtheirfew
householdpossessionsinsidethecookingpotwhichshecarriedstrappedtoherback.Alfredcarriedthetoolstheywouldusetomakeanewhomesomewhere:anax,anadz,asaw,asmallhammer,abradawlformakingholesinleatherandwood,andaspade.Marthawastoosmalltocarryanythingbutherownbowlandeatingknifetiedtoherbeltandherwintercloakstrappedtoherback.
However,shehadthedutyofdrivingthepiguntiltheycouldsellitatamarket.
TomkeptacloseeyeonAgnesastheywalkedthroughtheendlesswoods.Shewasmorethanhalfwaythroughhertermnow,andcarryingaconsiderableweightinherbellyaswellastheburdenonherback.Butsheseemedtireless.Alfred,too,wasallright:hewasat
theagewhenboyshavemoreenergythantheyknowwhattodowith.OnlyMarthawastiring.Herthinlegsweremadefortheplayfulscamper,notthelongmarch,andshedroppedbehindconstantly,sothattheothershadtostopandwaitforherandthepigtocatchup.
AshewalkedTomthoughtaboutthecathedralhewouldbuildoneday.Hebegan,as
always,bypicturinganarchway.Itwasverysimple:twouprightssupportingasemicircle.Thenheimaginedasecond,justthesameasthefirst.Hepushedthetwotogether,inhismind,toformonedeeparchway.Thenheaddedanother,andanother,thenalotmore,untilhehadawholerowofthem,allstucktogether,formingatunnel.Thiswastheessenceofabuilding,forithadaroofto
keeptherainoffandtwowallstoholduptheroof.Achurchwasjustatunnel,withrefinements.
Atunnelwasdark,sothefirstrefinementswerewindows.Ifthewallwasstrongenough,itcouldhaveholesinit.Theholeswouldberoundatthetop,withstraightsidesandaflatsill—thesameshapeastheoriginalarchway.Usingsimilarshapesforarchesand
windowsanddoorswasoneofthethingsthatmadeabuildingbeautiful.Regularitywasanother,andTomvisualizedtwelveidenticalwindows,evenlyspaced,alongeachwallofthetunnel.
Tomtriedtovisualizethemoldingsoverthewindows,buthisconcentrationkeptslippingbecausehehadthefeelingthathewasbeingwatched.Itwasafoolish
notion,hethought,ifonlybecauseofcoursehewasbeingobservedbythebirds,foxes,cats,squirrels,rats,mice,weasels,stoatsandvoleswhichthrongedtheforest.
Theysatdownbyastreamatmidday.Theydrankthepurewaterandatecoldbaconandcrabappleswhichtheypickedupfromtheforestfloor.
IntheafternoonMarthawastired.Atonepointshewasahundredyardsbehindthem.Standingwaitingforhertocatchup,TomrememberedAlfredatthatage.Hehadbeenabeautiful,golden-hairedboy,sturdyandbold.FondnessmingledwithirritationinTomashewatchedMarthascoldingthepigforbeingsoslow.Thenafiguresteppedoutoftheundergrowthjustaheadof
her.WhathappenednextwassoquickthatTomcouldhardlybelieveit.Themanwhohadappearedsosuddenlyontheroadraisedacluboverhisshoulder.AhorrifiedshoutroseinTom’sthroat,butbeforehecouldutteritthemanswungtheclubatMartha.Itstruckherfullonthesideofthehead,andTomheardthesickeningsoundoftheblowconnecting.Shefelltothegroundlikea
droppeddoll.
Tomfoundhimselfrunningbackalongtheroadtowardthem,hisfeetpoundingthehardearthlikethehoovesofWilliam’swar-horse,willinghislegstocarryhimfaster.Asheran,hewatchedwhatwashappening,anditwaslikelookingatapicturepaintedhighonachurchwall,forhecouldseeitbuttherewasnothinghecoulddo
tochangeit.Theattackerwasundoubtedlyanoutlaw.Hewasashort,thicksetmaninabrowntunic,withbarefeet.ForaninstanthelookedstraightatTom,andTomcouldseethattheman’sfacewashideouslymutilated:hislipshadbeencutoff,presumablyasapunishmentforacrimeinvolvinglying,andhismouthwasnowarepulsivepermanentgrinsurroundedbytwistedscar
tissue.ThehorridsightwouldhavestoppedTominhistracks,haditnotbeenforthepronebodyofMarthalyingontheground.
TheoutlawlookedawayfromTomandfixedhisgazeonthepig.Inaflashhebentdown,pickeditup,tuckedthesquirminganimalunderhisarmanddartedbackintothetangledundergrowth,takingwithhimTom’sfamily’sonly
valuablepossession.
ThenTomwasonhiskneesbesideMartha.Heputhisbroadhandonhertinychestandfeltherheartbeat,steadyandstrong,andhisworstfearsubsided;buthereyeswereclosedandtherewasbrightredbloodinherblondhair.
Agneskneltbesidehimamomentlater.ShetouchedMartha’schest,wristand
forehead,thenshegaveTomahard,levellook.“Shewilllive,”shesaidinatightvoice.“Fetchbackthatpig.”
Tomquicklyunslunghissatcheloftoolsanddroppeditontheground.Withhislefthandhetookhisbigiron-headedhammerfromhisbelt.Hestillhadhisspikeinhisright.Hecouldseethetrampledbusheswherethethiefhadcomeandgone,and
hecouldhearthepigsquealinginthewoods.Heplungedintotheundergrowth.
Thetrailwaseasytofollow.Theoutlawwasaheavilybuiltman,runningwithawrigglingpigunderhisarm,andhecutawidepaththroughthevegetation,flatteningflowersandbushesandyoungtreesalike.Tomchargedafterhim,fullofa
savagedesiretogethishandsonthemanandbeathimsenseless.Hecrashedthroughathicketofbirchsaplings,hurtleddownaslope,andsplashedacrossapatchofbogtoanarrowpathway.Therehestopped.Thethiefmighthavegoneleftorright,andnowtherewasnocrushedvegetationtoshowtheway;butTomlistened,andheardthepigsquealingsomewheretohisleft.Hecouldalsohear
someonerushingthroughtheforestbehindhim—Alfred,presumably.Hewentafterthepig.
Thepathledhimdownintoadip,thenturnedsharplyandbegantorise.Hecouldhearthepigclearlynow.Heranuphill,breathinghard—theyearsofinhalingstonedusthadweakenedhislungs.Suddenlythepathleveledandhesawthethief,onlytwenty
orthirtyyardsaway,runningasifthedevilwerebehindhim.Tomputonaspurtandstartedtogain.Hewasboundtocatchup,ifonlyhecouldkeepgoing,foramanwithapigcannotrunasfastasamanwithoutone.Butnowhischesthurt.Thethiefwasfifteenyardsaway,thentwelve.Tomraisedthespikeabovehisheadlikeaspear.Justalittlecloserandhewouldthrowit.Elevenyards,
ten—
Beforethespikelefthishandheglimpsed,outofthecornerofhiseye,athinfaceinagreencapemergingfromthebushesbesidethepath.Itwastoolatetoswerve.Aheavystickwasthrustoutinfrontofhim,hestumbledonitaswasintended,andhefelltotheground.
Hehaddroppedhisspikebut
hestillhadholdofthehammer.Herolledoverandraisedhimselfononeknee.Thereweretwoofthem,hesaw:theoneinthegreenhatandabaldmanwithamattedwhitebeard.TheyranatTom.
Hesteppedtoonesideandswunghishammeratthegreenhat.Themandodged,butthebigironhammerheadcamedownhardonhis
shoulderandhegaveascreechofagonyandsanktotheground,holdinghisarmasifitwerebroken.Tomdidnothavetimetoraisethehammerforanothercrushingblowbeforethebaldmanclosedwithhim,sohethrusttheironheadattheman’sfaceandsplithischeek.
Bothmenbackedoffclutchingtheirwounds.Tomcouldseethattherewasno
fightleftineitherone.Heturnedaround.Thethiefwasstillrunningawayalongthepath.Tomwentafterhimagain,ignoringthepaininhischest.Buthehadcoveredonlyafewyardswhenheheardashoutfrombehindinafamiliarvoice.
Alfred.
Hestoppedandlookedback.
Alfredwasfightingthemboth,usinghisfistsandhisfeet.Hepunchedtheoneinthegreenhatabouttheheadthreeorfourtimes,thenkickedthebaldman’sshins.Butthetwomenswarmedhim,gettinginsidehisreachsothathecouldnolongerpunchorkickhardenoughtohurt.Tomhesitated,tornbetweenchasingthepigandrescuinghisson.Thenthebaldonegothisfootbehind
Alfred’slegandtrippedhim,andastheboyhitthegroundthetwomenfellonhim,rainingblowsonhisfaceandbody.
Tomranback.Hechargedthebaldonebodily,sendingthemanflyingintothebushes,thenturnedandswunghishammeratthegreenhat.Thismanhadfelttheweightofthehammeroncebeforeandwasstill
usingonlyonearm.Hedodgedthefirstswing,thenturnedanddivedintotheundergrowthbeforeTomcouldswingagain.
Tomturnedandsawthebaldmanrunningawaydownthepath.Helookedintheoppositedirection:thethiefwiththepigwasnowhereinsight.Hebreathedabitter,blasphemouscurse:thatpigrepresentedhalfofwhathe
hadsavedthissummer.Hesanktotheground,breathinghard.
“Webeatthreeofthem!”Alfredsaidexcitedly.
Tomlookedathim.“Buttheygotourpig,”hesaid.Angerburnedhisstomachlikesourcider.Theyhadboughtthepiginthespring,assoonastheyhadsavedenoughpennies,andtheyhadbeen
fatteningitallsummer.Afatpigcouldbesoldforsixtypence.Withafewcabbagesandasackofgrainitcouldfeedafamilyallwinterandmakeapairofleathershoesandapurseortwo.Itslosswasacatastrophe.
TomlookedenviouslyatAlfred,whohadalreadyrecoveredfromthechaseandthefight,andwaswaitingimpatiently.Howlongago
wasit,Tomthought,whenIcouldrunlikethewindandhardlyfeelmyheartrace?SinceIwasthatage...twentyyears.Twentyyears.Itseemedlikeyesterday.
Hegottohisfeet.
HeputhisarmaroundAlfred’sbroadshouldersastheywalkedbackalongthepath.Theboywasstillshorterthanhisfatherbythe
spanofaman’shand,butsoonhewouldcatchup,andhemightgrowevenbigger.Ihopehiswitgrowstoo,Tomthought.Hesaid:“Anyfoolcangetintoafight,butawisemanknowshowtostayoutofthem.”Alfredgavehimablanklook.
Theyturnedoffthepath,crossedtheboggypatch,andbegantoclimbtheslope,followinginreversethetrail
thethiefhadmade.Astheypushedthroughthebirchthicket,TomthoughtofMartha,andonceagainragecurdledinhisbelly.Theoutlawhadlashedoutathersenselessly,forshehadbeennothreattohim.
Tomquickenedhispace,andamomentlaterheandAlfredemergedontotheroad.Marthalaythereinthesameplace,nothavingmoved.Her
eyeswereclosedandthebloodwasdryinginherhair.Agneskneltbesideher—andwiththem,toTom’ssurprise,wereanotherwomanandaboy.Thethoughtstruckhimthatitwasnowonderhehadfeltwatched,earlierintheday,fortheforestseemedtobeteemingwithpeople.HebentdownandrestedhishandonMartha’schestagain.Shewasbreathingnormally.
“Shewillwakeupsoon,”saidthestrangewomaninanauthoritativevoice.“Thenshewillpuke.Afterthatshe’llbeallright.”
Tomlookedathercuriously.ShewaskneelingoverMartha.Shewasquiteyoung,perhapsadozenyearsyoungerthanTom.Hershortleathertunicrevealedlithebrownlimbs.Shehadaprettyface,withdarkbrownhair
thatcametoadevil’speakonherforehead.Tomfeltapangofdesire.Thensheraisedherglancetolookathim,andhegaveastart:shehadintense,deep-seteyesofanunusualhoney-goldcolorthatgaveherwholefaceamagicallook,andhefeltsurethatsheknewwhathehadbeenthinking.
Helookedawayfromhertocoverhisembarrassment,and
hecaughtAgnes’seye.Shewaslookingresentful.Shesaid:“Where’sthepig?”
“Thereweretwomoreoutlaws,”Tomsaid.
Alfredsaid:“Webeatthem,buttheonewiththepiggotaway.”
Agneslookedgrim,butsaidnothingmore.
Thestrangewomansaid:“Wecouldmovethegirlintotheshade,ifwe’regentle.”Shestoodup,andTomrealizedthatshewasquitesmall,atleastafootshorterthanhe.HebentdownandpickedMarthaupcarefully.Herchildishbodywasalmostweightlessinhisarms.Hecarriedherafewyardsalongtheroadandputherdownonapatchofgrassintheshadowofanoldoak.Shewasstill
quitelimp.
Alfredwaspickingupthetoolsthathadbeenscatteredontheroadduringthefracas.Thestrangewoman’sboywaswatching,hiseyeswideandhismouthopen,notspeaking.HewasaboutthreeyearsyoungerthanAlfred,andapeculiar-lookingchild,Tomobserved,withnoneofhismother’ssensualbeauty.Hehadverypaleskin,
orange-redhair,andblueeyesthatbulgedslightly.Hehadthealertlystupidlookofadullard,Tomthought;thekindofchildthateitherdiesyoungorgrowsuptobethevillageidiot.Alfredwasvisiblyuncomfortableunderhisstare.
AsTomwatched,thechildsnatchedthesawfromAlfred’shand,withoutsayinganything,andexamineditas
ifitweresomethingamazing.Alfred,offendedbythediscourtesy,snatcheditback,andthechildletitgowithindifference.Themothersaid:“Jack!Behaveyourself.”Sheseemedembarrassed.
Tomlookedather.Theboydidnotresembleheratall.“Areyouhismother?”Tomasked.
“Yes.MynameisEllen.”
“Where’syourhusband?”
“Dead.”
Tomwassurprised.“You’retravelingalone?”hesaidincredulously.Theforestwasdangerousenoughforamansuchashe:awomanalonecouldhardlyhopetosurvive.
“We’renottraveling,”said
Ellen.“Weliveintheforest.”
Tomwasshocked.“Youmeanyou’re—”Hestopped,notwantingtooffendher.
“Outlaws,”shesaid.“Yes.DidyouthinkthatalloutlawswerelikeFaramondOpenmouth,whostoleyourpig?”
“Yes,”saidTom,althoughwhathewantedtosaywasI
neverthoughtanoutlawmightbeabeautifulwoman.Unabletorestrainhiscuriosity,heasked:“Whatwasyourcrime?”
“Icursedapriest,”shesaid,andlookedaway.
ItdidnotsoundlikemuchofacrimetoTom,butperhapsthepriesthadbeenverypowerful,orverytouchy;orperhapsEllenjustdidnot
wanttotellthetruth.
HelookedatMartha.Amomentlatersheopenedhereyes.Shewasconfusedandalittlefrightened.Agneskneltbesideher.“You’resafe,”shesaid.“Everything’sallright.”
Marthasatuprightandvomited.Agneshuggedheruntilthespasmspassed.Tomwasimpressed:Ellen’spredictionhadcometrue.She
hadalsosaidthatMarthawouldbeallright,andpresumablythatwasreliabletoo.Reliefwashedoverhim,andhewasalittlesurprisedatthestrengthofhisownemotion.Icouldn’tbeartolosemylittlegirl,hethought;andhehadtofightbacktears.HecaughtalookofsympathyfromEllen,andonceagainhefeltthatherpalegoldeyescouldseeintohisheart.
Hebrokeoffanoaktwig,strippeditsleaves,andusedthemtowipeMartha’sface.Shestilllookedpale.
“Sheneedstorest,”saidEllen.“Letherliedownforaslongasittakesamantowalkthreemiles.”
Tomglancedatthesun.Therewasplentyofdaylightleft.Hesettleddowntowait.AgnesrockedMarthagently
inherarms.TheboyJacknowswitchedhisattentiontoMartha,andstaredatherwiththesameidiotintensity.TomwantedtoknowmoreaboutEllen.Hewonderedwhethershemightbepersuadedtotellherstory.Hedidnotwanthertogoaway.“Howdiditallcomeabout?”heaskedhervaguely.
Shelookedintohiseyesagain,andthenshebeganto
talk.
Herfatherhadbeenaknight,shetoldthem;abig,strong,violentmanwhowantedsonswithwhomhecouldrideandhuntandwrestle,companionstodrinkandcarouseintothenightwithhim.Inthesemattershewasasunluckyasamancouldbe,forhegotEllen,andthenhiswifedied;andhemarriedagain,buthis
secondwifewasbarren.HecametodespiseEllen’sstepmother,andeventuallysentheraway.Hemusthavebeenacruelman,butheneverseemedsotoEllen,whoadoredhimandsharedhisscornforhissecondwife.Whenthestepmotherleft,Ellenstayed,andgrewupinwhatwasalmostanall-malehousehold.Shecutherhairshortandcarriedadagger,andlearnednottoplaywith
kittensorcareforblindolddogs.BythetimeshewasMartha’sageshecouldspitonthegroundandeatapplecoresandkickahorseinthebellysohardthatitwoulddrawinitsbreath,allowinghertotightenitsgirthonemorenotch.Sheknewthatallmenwhowerenotpartofherfather’sbandwerecalledcocksuckersandallwomenwhowouldnotgowiththemwerecalledpigfuckers,
althoughshewasnotquitesure—anddidnotmuchcare—whattheseinsultsreallymeant.
Listeningtohervoiceinthemildairofanautumnafternoon,Tomclosedhiseyesandpicturedherasaflat-chestedgirlwithadirtyface,sittingatthelongtablewithherfather’sthuggishcomrades,drinkingstrongaleandbelchingandsinging
songsaboutbattleandlootingandrape,horsesandcastlesandvirgins,untilshefellasleepwithherlittlecroppedheadontheroughboard.
Ifonlyshecouldhavestayedflat-chestedforevershewouldhavelivedahappylife.Butthetimecamewhenthemenlookedatherdifferently.Theynolongerlaugheduproariouslywhenshesaid:“Getoutofmyway
orI’llcutoffyourballsandfeedthemtothepigs.”Someofthemstaredatherwhenshetookoffherwooltunicandlaydowntosleepinherlonglinenundershirt.Whenrelievingthemselvesinthewoods,theywouldturntheirbackstoher,whichtheyneverhadbefore.
Onedayshesawherfatherdeepinconversationwiththeparishpriest—arareevent—
andthetwoofthemkeptlookingather,asiftheyweretalkingabouther.Onthefollowingmorningherfathersaidtoher:“GowithHenryandEverardanddoastheytellyou.”Thenhekissedherforehead.Shewonderedwhatonearthhadcomeoverhim—washegoingsoftinhisoldage?Shesaddledhergraycourser—sherefusedtoridetheladylikepalfreyorachild’spony—andsetoff
withthetwomen-at-arms.
Theytookhertoanunneryandleftherthere.
Thewholeplacerangwithherobscenecursesasthetwomenrodeaway.Sheknifedtheabbessandwalkedallthewaybacktoherfather’shouse.Hesentherback,boundhandandfootandtiedtothesaddleofadonkey.Theyputherinthe
punishmentcelluntiltheabbess’swoundhealed.Itwascoldanddampandasblackasthenight,andtherewaswatertodrinkbutnothingtoeat.Whentheyletheroutshewalkedhomeagain.Herfathersentherbackagain,andthistimeshewasfloggedbeforebeingputinthecell.
Theybrokehereventually,ofcourse,andshedonnedthe
novice’shabit,obeyedtherulesandlearnedtheprayers,evenifinherheartshehatedthenunsanddespisedthesaintsanddisbelievedeverythinganyonetoldheraboutGodonprinciple.Butshelearnedtoreadandwrite,shemasteredmusicandnumbersanddrawing,andsheaddedLatintotheFrenchandEnglishshehadspokeninherfather’shousehold.
Lifeintheconventwasnotsobad,intheend.Itwasasingle-sexcommunitywithitsownpeculiarrulesandrituals,andthatwasexactlywhatshewasusedto.Allthenunshadtodosomephysicallabor,andEllensoongotassignedtoworkwiththehorses.Beforelongshewasinchargeofthestables.
Povertyneverworriedher.Obediencedidnotcome
easily,butitdidcome,eventually.Thethirdrule,chastity,nevertroubledhermuch,althoughnowandagain,justtospitetheabbess,shewouldintroduceoneoftheothernovicenunstothepleasuresof—
AgnesinterruptedEllen’staleatthispointand,takingMarthawithher,wentofftofindastreaminwhichtowashthechild’sfaceand
cleanuphertunic.ShetookAlfredtoo,forprotection,althoughshesaidshewouldnotgooutofearshot.Jackgotuptofollowthem,butAgnestoldhimfirmlytostaybehind,andheappearedtounderstand,forhesatdownagain.TomnotedthatAgneshadsucceededintakingherchildrenwheretheycouldnothearanymoreofthisimpiousandindecentstory,whileleavingTomchaperoned.
Oneday,Ellenwenton,theabbess’spalfreywentlamewhenshewasseveraldaysawayfromtheconvent.KingsbridgePrioryhappenedtobenearby,sotheabbessborrowedanotherhorsefromthepriorthere.Aftershegothome,shetoldEllentoreturntheborrowedhorsetotheprioryandbringthelamepalfreyback.
There,inthemonasterystable
withinsightofthecrumblingoldcathedralofKingsbridge,Ellenmetayoungmanwholookedlikeawhippedpuppy.Hehadtheloose-limbedgraceofapup,andthetwitching-nosedalertness,buthewascowedandfrightened,asifalltheplayfulnesshadbeenbeatenoutofhim.Whenshespoketohimhedidnotunderstand.ShetriedLatin,buthewasnotamonk.Finallyshesaidsomethingin
French,andhisfacewassuffusedwithjoyandherepliedinthesamelanguage.
Ellenneverwentbacktotheconvent.
Fromthatdayonshelivedintheforest,firstinaroughshelterofbranchesandleaves,laterinadrycave.Shehadnotforgottenthemasculineskillsshehadlearnedinherfather’shouse:
shecouldstillhuntdeer,traprabbitsandshootswanswithabow;shecouldgutandcleanandcookthemeat;andsheevenknewhowtoscrapeandcurethehidesandfursforherclothes.Aswellasgame,sheatewildfruits,nutsandvegetables.Anythingelsesheneeded—salt,woolenclothing,anaxoranewknife—shehadtosteal.
Theworsttimewaswhen
Jackwasborn....
ButwhatabouttheFrenchman?Tomwantedtoask.WasheJack’sfather?Andifso,whendidhedie?Andhow?Buthecouldtell,fromherface,thatshewasnotgoingtotalkaboutthatpartofthestory,andsheseemedthetypeofpersonwhowouldnotbepersuadedagainstherwill,sohekepthisquestionstohimself.
Bythistimeherfatherhaddiedandhisbandofmenhaddispersed,soshehadnorelativesorfriendsintheworld.WhenJackwasabouttobebornshebuiltanall-nightfireatthemouthofhercave.Shehadfoodandwateronhand,andherbowandarrowsandknivestowardoffthewolvesandwilddogs;andsheevenhadaheavyredcloak,stolenfromabishop,towrapthebabyin.Butshe
hadnotbeenpreparedforthepainandfearofchildbirth,andforalongtimeshethoughtshewasgoingtodie.Neverthelessthebabywasbornhealthyandstrong,andshesurvived.
EllenandJacklivedasimple,frugallifeforthenextelevenyears.Theforestgavethemalltheyneeded,aslongastheywerecarefultostoreenoughapplesandnutsand
saltedorsmokedvenisonforthewintermonths.Ellenoftenthoughtthatiftherewerenokingsandlordsandbishopsandsheriffs,theneveryonecouldlivelikethisandbeperfectlyhappy.
Tomaskedherhowshedealtwiththeotheroutlaws,mensuchasFaramondOpenmouth.Whatwouldhappeniftheycreptuponheratnightandtriedtorapeher?
hewondered,andhisloinsstirredatthethought,althoughhehadnevertakenawomanagainstherwill,notevenhiswife.
TheotheroutlawswereafraidofEllen,shetoldTom,lookingathimwithherluminouspaleeyes,andheknewwhy:theythoughtshewasawitch.Asforlaw-abidingpeopletravelingthroughtheforest,people
whoknewtheycouldrobandrapeandmurderanoutlawwithoutfearofpunishment—Ellenjusthidfromthem.WhythenhadshenothiddenfromTom?Becauseshehadseenawoundedchild,andwantedtohelp.Shehadachildherself.
ShehadtaughtJackeverythingshehadlearnedinherfather’shouseholdaboutweaponsandhunting.Then
shehadtaughthimallshehadlearnedfromthenuns:readingandwriting,musicandnumbers,FrenchandLatin,howtodraw,eventheBiblestories.Finally,inthelongwinterevenings,shehadpassedonthelegacyoftheFrenchman,whoknewmorestoriesandpoemsandsongsthananyoneelseintheworld—
Tomdidnotbelievethatthe
boyJackcouldreadandwrite.Tomcouldwritehisname,andahandfulofwordssuchaspenceandyardsandbushels;andAgnes,beingthedaughterofapriest,coulddomore,althoughshewroteslowlyandlaboriouslywithhertonguepokingoutofthecornerofhermouth;butAlfredcouldnotwriteaword,andcouldbarelyrecognizehisownname;andMarthacouldnotevendo
that.Wasitpossiblethatthishalf-wittedchildwasmoreliteratethanTom’swholefamily?
EllentoldJacktowritesomething,andhesmoothedapatchofearthandscratchedlettersinit.Tomrecognizedthefirstword,Alfred,butnottheothers,andhefeltafool;thenEllensavedhisembarrassmentbyreadingthewholethingaloud:“Alfredis
biggerthanJack.”Theboyquicklydrewtwofigures,onebiggerthantheother,andalthoughtheywerecrude,onehadbroadshouldersandaratherbovineexpressionandtheotherwassmallandgrinning.Tom,whohimselfhadatalentforsketching,wasastonishedatthesimplicityandstrengthofthepicturescratchedinthedust.
Butthechildseemedanidiot.
Ellenhadlatelybeguntorealizethis,sheconfessed,guessingTom’sthoughts.Jackhadneverhadthecompanyofotherchildren,orindeedofotherhumanbeingsexceptforhismother,andtheresultwasthathewasgrowinguplikeawildanimal.Forallhislearninghedidnotknowhowtobehavewithpeople.Thatwaswhyhewassilent,andstared,andsnatched.
Asshesaidthisshelookedvulnerableforthefirsttime.Herairofimpregnableself-sufficiencyvanished,andTomsawherastroubledandratherdesperate.ForJack’ssake,sheneededtorejoinsociety;buthow?Ifshehadbeenaman,shemightconceivablyhavepersuadedsomelordtogiveherafarm,especiallyifshehadliedconvincinglyandsaidshewasbackfromapilgrimage
toJerusalemorSantiagodeCompostela.Thereweresomewomenfarmers,buttheywereinvariablywidowswithgrownsons.Nolordwouldgiveafarmtoawomanwithonesmallchild.Nobodywouldhireherasalaborer,eitherintownorcountry;besides,shehadnoplacetolive,andunskilledworkrarelycamewithaccommodationprovided.Shehadnoidentity.
Tomfeltforher.Shehadgivenherchildeverythingshecould,anditwasnotenough.Buthecouldseenowayoutofherdilemma.Beautiful,resourceful,andformidablethoughshewas,shewasdoomedtospendtherestofherdayshidingintheforestwithherweirdson.
Agnes,MarthaandAlfredcameback.Tomgazed
anxiouslyatMartha,butshelookedasiftheworstthingthathadeverhappenedtoherwashavingherfacescrubbed.ForawhileTomhadbeenabsorbedinEllen’sproblems,butnowherememberedhisownplight:hewasoutofworkandhispighadbeenstolen.Theafternoonwaswearingon.Hebegantopickuptheirremainingpossessions.
Ellensaid:“Whereareyouheaded?”
“Winchester,”Tomtoldher.Winchesterhadacastle,apalace,severalmonasteries,and—mostimportantofall—acathedral.
“Salisburyiscloser,”Ellensaid.“AndlasttimeIwasthere,theywererebuildingthecathedral—makingitbigger.”
Tom’sheartleaped.Thiswaswhathewaslookingfor.Ifonlyhecouldgetajobonacathedralbuildingprojecthebelievedhehadtheabilitytobecomemasterbuildereventually.“WhichwayisSalisbury?”hesaideagerly.
“Backthewayyoucame,forthreeorfourmiles.Doyourememberaforkintheroad,whereyouwentleft?”
“Yes—byapondoffoulwater.”
“That’sit.TherightforkleadstoSalisbury.”
Theytooktheirleave.AgneshadnotlikedEllen,butmanagedneverthelesstosaygraciously:“ThankyouforhelpingmetakecareofMartha.”
Ellensmiledandlooked
wistfulastheyleft.
WhentheyhadwalkedalongtheroadforafewminutesTomlookedback.Ellenwasstillwatchingthem,standingintheroadwithherlegsapart,shadinghereyeswithherhand,thepeculiarboystandingbesideher.Tomwaved,andshewavedback.
“Aninterestingwoman,”hesaidtoAgnes.
Agnessaidnothing.
Alfredsaid:“Thatboywasstrange.”
Theywalkedintothelowautumnsun.TomwonderedwhatSalisburywaslike:hehadneverbeenthere.Hefeltexcited.Ofcourse,hisdreamwastobuildanewcathedralfromthegroundup,butthatalmostneverhappened:itwasmuchmorecommonto
findanoldbuildingbeingimprovedorextended,orpartlyrebuilt.Butthatwouldbegoodenoughforhim,aslongasitofferedtheprospectofbuildingtohisowndesignseventually.
Marthasaid:“Whydidthemanhitme?”
“Becausehewantedtostealourpig,”Agnestoldher.
“Heshouldgethisownpig,”Marthasaidindignantly,asifshehadonlyjustrealizedthattheoutlawhaddonesomethingwrong.
Ellen’sproblemwouldhavebeensolvedifshehadhadacraft,Tomreflected.Amason,acarpenter,aweaveroratannerwouldnothavefoundhimselfinherposition.Hecouldalwaysgotoatownandlookforwork.There
wereafewcraftswomen,buttheyweregenerallythewivesorwidowsofcraftsmen.“Whatsheneeds,”Tomsaidaloud,“isahusband.”
Agnessaidcrisply:“Well,shecan’thavemine.”
III
Thedaytheylostthepigwasalsothelastdayofmildweather.Theyspentthat
nightinabarn,andwhentheycameoutinthemorningtheskywasthecolorofaleadroof,andtherewasacoldwindwithgustsofdrivingrain.Theyunbundledtheircloaksofthick,feltedclothandputthemon,fasteningthemtightundertheirchinsandpullingthehoodswellforwardtokeeptherainofftheirfaces.Theysetoffinagrimmood,fourgloomyghostsinarainstorm,
theirwoodenclogssplashingalongthepuddled,muddyroad.
TomwonderedwhatSalisburycathedralwouldbelike.Acathedralwasachurchlikeanyother,inprinciple:itwassimplythechurchwherethebishophadhisthrone.Butinpracticecathedralchurcheswerethebiggest,richest,grandestandmostelaborate.Acathedral
wasrarelyatunnelwithwindows.Mostwerethreetunnels,atalloneflankedbytwosmalleronesinahead-and-shouldersshape,forminganavewithsideaisles.Thesidewallsofthecentraltunnelwerereducedtotwolinesofpillarslinkedbyarches,forminganarcade.Theaisleswereusedforprocessions—whichcouldbespectacularincathedralchurches—andmightalso
providespaceforsmallsidechapelsdedicatedtoparticularsaints,whichattractedimportantextradonations.Cathedralswerethemostcostlybuildingsintheworld,farmoresothanpalacesorcastles,andtheyhadtoearntheirkeep.
SalisburywascloserthanTomhadthought.Aroundmid-morningtheycrestedarise,andfoundtheroad
fallingawaygentlybeforetheminalongcurve;andacrosstherainsweptfields,risingoutoftheflatplainlikeaboatonalake,theysawthefortifiedhilltownofSalisbury.Itsdetailswereveiledbytherain,butTomcouldmakeoutseveraltowers,fourorfive,soaringhighabovethecitywalls.Hisspiritsliftedatthesightofsomuchstonework.
Acoldwindwhippedacrosstheplain,freezingtheirfacesandhandsastheyfollowedtheroadtowardtheeastgate.Fourroadsmetatthefootofthehill,amidascatterofhousesspilledoverfromthetown,andtheretheywerejoinedbyothertravelers,walkingwithhunchedshouldersandloweredheads,buttingthroughtheweathertotheshelterofthewalls.
Ontheslopeleadingtothegatetheycameupwithanoxcartbearingaloadofstone—averyhopefulsignforTom.Thecarterwasbentdownbehindthecrudewoodenvehicle,pushingwithhisshoulder,addinghisstrengthtothatofthetwooxenastheyincheduphill.Tomsawachancetomakeafriend.HebeckonedtoAlfred,andtheybothputtheirshoulderstothebackofthecartandhelped
push.
Thehugewoodenwheelsrumbledontoatimberbridgethatspannedanenormousdrymoat.Theearthworkswereformidable:diggingthatmoat,andthrowingupthesoiltoformthetownwall,musthavetakenhundredsofmen,Tomthought;amuchbiggerjobeventhandiggingthefoundationsforacathedral.Thebridgethat
crossedthemoatrattledandcreakedundertheweightofthecartandthetwomightybeaststhatwerepullingit.
Theslopeleveledandthecartmovedmoreeasilyastheyapproachedthegateway.Thecarterstraightenedup,andTomandAlfreddidlikewise.“Ithankyoukindly,”thecartersaid.
Tomasked:“What’sthe
stonefor?”
“Thenewcathedral.”
“New?Iheardtheywerejustenlargingtheoldone.”
Thecarternodded.“That’swhattheysaid,tenyearsago.Butthere’smorenewthanold,now.”
Thiswasfurthergoodnews.“Who’sthemasterbuilder?”
“JohnofShaftesbury,thoughBishopRogerhasalottodowiththedesigns.”
Thatwasnormal.Bishopsrarelyleftbuildersalonetodothejob.Oneofthemasterbuilder’sproblemswasoftentocalmthefeveredimaginationsoftheclericsandsetpracticallimitstotheirsoaringfantasies.ButitwouldbeJohnofShaftesburywhohiredmen.
ThecarternoddedatTom’ssatcheloftools.“Mason?”
“Yes.Lookingforwork.”
“Youmayfindit,”thecartersaidneutrally.“Ifnotonthecathedral,perhapsonthecastle.”
“Andwhogovernsthecastle?”
“ThesameRogerisboth
bishopandcastellan.”
Ofcourse,Tomthought.HehadheardofthepowerfulRogerofSalisbury,whohadbeenclosetothekingforaslongasanyonecouldremember.
Theypassedthroughthegatewayintothetown.Theplacewascrammedsofullofbuildings,peopleandanimalsthatitseemedindangerof
burstingitscircularrampartsandspillingoutintothemoat.Thewoodenhouseswerejammedtogethershouldertoshoulder,jostlingforspacelikespectatorsatahanging.Everytinypieceoflandwasusedforsomething.Wheretwohouseshadbeenbuiltwithanalleywaybetweenthem,someonehadputupahalf-sizedwellinginthealley,withnowindowsbecauseitsdoortookup
almostallthefrontage.Whereverasitewastoosmallevenforthenarrowestofhouses,therewasastallonitsellingaleorbreadorapples;andiftherewasnotevenroomforthat,thentherewouldbeastable,apigsty,adunghillorawaterbarrel.
Itwasnoisy,too.Theraindidlittletodeadentheclamorofcraftsmen’sworkshops,hawkerscallingtheirwares,
peoplegreetingoneanotherandbargainingandquarreling,animalsneighingandbarkingandfighting.
Raisinghervoiceabovethenoise,Marthasaid:“What’sthatstink?”
Tomsmiled.Shehadnotbeeninatownforacoupleofyears.“That’sthesmellofpeople,”hetoldher.
Thestreetwasonlyalittlewiderthantheoxcart,butthecarterwouldnotlethisbeastsstop,forfeartheymightnotstartagain;sohewhippedthemon,ignoringallobstacles,andtheyshoulderedtheirdumbwaythroughthemultitude,indiscriminatelyshovingasideaknightonawar-horse,aforesterwithabow,afatmonkonapony,men-at-armsandbeggarsandhousewives
andwhores.
Thecartcameupbehindanoldshepherdstrugglingtokeepasmallflocktogether.Itmustbemarketday,Tomrealized.Asthecartwentby,oneofthesheepplungedthroughtheopendoorofanalehouse,andinamomentthewholeflockwasinthehouse,bleatingandpanickingandupsettingtablesandstoolsandalepots.
Thegroundunderfootwasaseaofmudandrubbish.Tomhadaneyeforthefallofrainonaroof,andthewidthofgutterrequiredtotaketherainaway;andhecouldseethatalltherainfallingonalltheroofsofthishalfofthetownwasdrainingawaythroughthisstreet.Inabadstorm,hethought,youwouldneedaboattocrossthestreet.
Astheyapproachedthecastle
atthesummitofthehill,thestreetwidened.Heretherewerestonehouses,oneortwooftheminneedofalittlerepair.Theybelongedtocraftsmenandtraders,whohadtheirshopsandstoresonthegroundfloorandlivingquartersabove.Lookingwithapracticedeyeatwhatwasonsale,Tomcouldtellthatthiswasaprosperoustown.Everyonehadtohaveknivesandpots,butonlyprosperous
peopleboughtembroideredshawls,decoratedbeltsandsilverclasps.
Infrontofthecastlethecarterturnedhisoxteamtotheright,andTomandhisfamilyfollowed.Thestreetledaroundaquarter-circle,skirtingthecastleramparts.Passingthroughanothergatetheyleftthehurly-burlyofthetownasquicklyastheyhadenteredit,andwalked
intoadifferentkindofmaelstrom:thehecticbutordereddiversityofamajorbuildingsite.
Theywereinsidethewalledcathedralclose,whichoccupiedtheentirenorthwestquarterofthecirculartown.Tomstoodforamomenttakingitin.Justseeingandhearingandsmellingitgavehimathrilllikeasunnyday.Astheyarrivedbehindthe
cartloadofstone,twomorecartswereleavingempty.Inlean-toshedsallalongthesidewallsofthechurch,masonscouldbeseensculptingthestoneblocks,withironchiselsandbigwoodenhammers,intotheshapesthatwouldbeputtogethertoformplinths,columns,capitals,shafts,buttresses,arches,windows,sills,pinnaclesandparapets.Inthemiddleoftheclose,
wellawayfromotherbuildings,stoodthesmithy,theglowofitsfirevisiblethroughtheopendoorway;andtheclangofhammeronanvilcarriedacrossthecloseasthesmithmadenewtoolstoreplacetheonesthemasonswerewearingdown.Tomostpeopleitwasasceneofchaos,butTomsawalargeandcomplexmechanismwhichheitchedtocontrol.Heknewwhateachmanwas
doingandhecouldseeinstantlyhowfartheworkhadprogressed.Theywerebuildingtheeastfacade.
Therewasarunofscaffoldingacrosstheeastendataheightoftwenty-fiveorthirtyfeet.Themasonswereintheporch,waitingfortheraintoeaseup,buttheirlaborerswererunningupanddowntheladderswithstonesontheirshoulders.Higherup,
onthetimberframeworkoftheroof,weretheplumbers,likespiderscreepingacrossagiantwoodenweb,nailingsheetsofleadtothestrutsandinstallingthedrainpipesandgutters.
Tomrealizedregretfullythatthebuildingwasalmostfinished.Ifhedidgethiredheretheworkwouldnotlastmorethanacoupleofyears—hardlyenoughtimeforhimto
risetothepositionofmastermason,letalonemasterbuilder.Neverthelesshewouldtakethejob,ifhewereofferedit,forwinterwascoming.Heandhisfamilycouldhavesurvivedawinterwithoutworkiftheyhadstillhadthepig,butwithoutitTomhadtogetajob.
Theyfollowedthecartacrosstheclosetowherethestoneswerestacked.Theoxen
gratefullydippedtheirheadstothewatertrough.Thecartercalledtoapassingmason:“Where’sthemasterbuilder?”
“Inthecastle,”themasonreplied.
ThecarternoddedandturnedtoTom.“You’llfindhiminthebishop’spalace,Iexpect.”
“Thanks.”
“Minetoyou.”
TomlefttheclosewithAgnesandthechildrenfollowing.Theyretracedtheirstepsthroughthethronged,narrowstreetstothefrontofthecastle.Herewasanotherdrymoatandasecondhugeearthenrampartsurroundingthecentralstronghold.Theywalkedacrossthedrawbridge.Inaguardhousetoonesideofthegateway,a
thicksetmaninaleathertunicsatonastool,lookingoutattherain.Hewaswearingasword.Tomaddressedhim.“Goodday.I’mcalledTomBuilder.Iwanttoseethemasterbuilder,JohnofShaftesbury.”
“Withthebishop,”theguardsaidindifferently.
Theywentinside.Likemostcastles,thiswasacollection
ofmiscellaneousbuildingsinsideawallofearth.Thecourtyardwasaboutahundredyardsacross.Oppositethegateway,onthefarside,wasthemassivekeep,thelaststrongholdintimeofattack,risinghighabovetherampartstoprovidealookout.Ontheirleftwasaclutteroflowbuildings,mostlywooden:alongstable,akitchen,abakeryandseveralstorehouses.There
wasawellinthemiddle.Ontheright,takingupmostofthenorthernhalfofthecompound,wasalargestonehousethatwasobviouslythepalace.Itwasbuiltinthesamestyleasthenewcathedral,withsmallround-headeddoorwaysandwindows,andithadtwostories.Itwasnew—indeed,masonswerestillworkingononecornerofit,apparentlybuildingatower.Despitethe
raintherewereplentyofpeopleinthecourtyard,cominginandgoingoutorhurryingthroughtherainfromonebuildingtoanother:men-at-arms,priests,tradesmen,constructionworkersandpalaceservants.
Tomcouldseeseveraldoorwaysinthepalace,allopendespitetherain.Hewasnotquitesurewhattodonext.Ifthemasterbuilder
waswiththebishop,perhapsheoughtnottointerrupt.Ontheotherhand,abishopwasnotaking;andTomwasafreemanandamasononlegitimatebusiness,notsomegrovelingserfwithacomplaint.Hedecidedtobebold.LeavingAgnesandMartha,hewalkedwithAlfredacrossthemuddycourtyardtothepalaceandwentthroughthenearestdoor.
Theyfoundthemselvesinasmallchapelwithavaultedceilingandawindowinthefarendoverthealtar.Nearthedoorwayapriestsatatahighdesk,writingrapidlyonvellum.Helookedup.
Tomsaidbriskly:“Where’sMasterJohn?”
“Inthevestry,”saidthepriest,jerkinghisheadtowardadoorintheside
wall.
Tomdidnotasktoseethemaster.Hefoundthatifheactedasifhewereexpectedhewaslesslikelytowastetimewaitingaround.Hecrossedthelittlechapelinacoupleofstridesandenteredthevestry.
Itwasasmall,squarechamberlitbymanycandles.Mostofthefloorspacewas
takenupbyashallowsandpit.Thefinesandhadbeensmoothedperfectlylevelwitharule.Thereweretwomenintheroom.BothglancedbrieflyatTom,thenreturnedtheirattentiontothesand.Thebishop,awrinkledoldmanwithflashingblackeyes,wasdrawinginthesandwithapointedstick.Themasterbuilder,wearingaleatherapron,watchedhimwithapatientairanda
skepticalexpression.
Tomwaitedinanxioussilence.Hemustmakeagoodimpression:becourteousbutnotgrovelingandshowhisknowledgewithoutbeingcocky.Amastercraftsmanwantedhissubordinatestobeobedientaswellasskillful,Tomknewfromhisownexperienceofbeingthehirer.
BishopRogerwassketching
atwo-storybuildingwithlargewindowsinthreesides.Hewasagooddraftsman,makingstraightlinesandtruerightangles.Hedrewaplanandasideviewofthebuilding.Tomcouldseethatitwouldneverbebuilt.
Thebishopfinisheditandsaid:“There.”
JohnturnedtoTomandsaid:“Whatisit?”
Tompretendedtothinkhewasbeingaskedforhisopinionofthedrawing.Hesaid:“Youcan’thavewindowsthatbiginanundercroft.”
Thebishoplookedathimwithirritation.“It’sawritingroom,notanundercroft.”
“Itwillfalldownjustthesame.”
Johnsaid:“He’sright.”
“Buttheymusthavelighttowriteby.”
JohnshruggedandturnedtoTom.“Whoareyou?”
“MynameisTomandI’mamason.”
“Iguessedthat.Whatbringsyouhere?”
“I’mlookingforwork.”Tomheldhisbreath.
Johnshookhisheadimmediately.“Ican’thireyou.”
Tom’sheartsank.Hefeltliketurningonhisheel,buthewaitedpolitelytohearthereasons.
“We’vebeenbuildingfortenyearshere,”Johnwenton.
“Mostofthemasonshavehousesinthetown.We’recomingtotheend,andnowIhavemoremasonsonthesitethanIreallyneed.”
Tomknewitwashopeless,buthesaid:“Andthepalace?”
“Samething,”saidJohn.“ThisiswhereI’musingmysurplusmen.Ifitweren’tforthis,andBishopRoger’s
othercastles,I’dbelayingmasonsoffalready.”
Tomnodded.Inaneutralvoice,tryingnottosounddesperate,hesaid:“Doyouhearofworkanywhere?”
“TheywerebuildingatthemonasteryinShaftesburyearlierintheyear.Perhapstheystillare.It’saday’sjourneyaway.”
“Thanks.”Tomturnedtogo.
“I’msorry,”Johncalledafterhim.“Youseemlikeagoodman.”
Tomwentoutwithoutreplying.Hefeltletdown.Hehadallowedhishopestorisetooearly:therewasnothingunusualaboutbeingturneddown.Buthehadbeenexcitedattheprospectofworkingonacathedralagain.
Nowhemighthavetoworkonamonotonoustownwalloranuglyhouseforasilversmith.
HesquaredhisshouldersashewalkedbackacrossthecastlecourtyardtowhereAgneswaitedwithMartha.Henevershowedhisdisappointmenttoher.Healwaystriedtogivetheimpressionthatallwaswell,hewasincontrolofthe
situation,anditwasofnogreatconsequenceiftherewasnoworkherebecausetherewassuretobesomethinginthenexttown,ortheoneafterthat.HeknewthatifheshowedanysignofdistressAgneswouldurgehimtofindaplacetosettledown,andhedidnotwanttodothat,notunlesshecouldsettleinatownwheretherewasacathedraltobebuilt.
“There’snothingformehere,”hesaidtoAgnes.“Let’smoveon.”
Shelookedcrestfallen.“You’dthink,withacathedralandapalaceunderconstruction,therewouldberoomforonemoremason.”
“Bothbuildingsarealmostfinished,”Tomexplained.“They’vegotmorementhantheywant.”
Thefamilycrossedthedrawbridgeandplungedbackintothecrowdedstreetsofthetown.TheyhadenteredSalisburybytheeastgate,andtheywouldleavebythewest,forthatwayledtoShaftesbury.Tomturnedright,leadingthemthroughthepartofthetowntheyhadnotsofarseen.
Hestoppedoutsideastonehousethatlookedindireneed
ofrepair.Themortarusedinbuildingithadbeentooweak,andwasnowcrumblingandfallingout.Frosthadgotintotheholes,crackingsomeofthestones.Ifitwereleftforanotherwinterthedamagewouldbeworse.Tomdecidedtopointthisouttotheowner.
Theground-floorentrancewasawidearch.Thewoodendoorwasopen,andinthe
doorwayacraftsmansatwithahammerinhisrighthandandabradawl,asmallmetaltoolwithasharppoint,inhisleft.Hewascarvingacomplexdesignonawoodensaddlewhichsatonthebenchbeforehim.InthebackgroundTomcouldseestoresofwoodandleather,andaboywithabroomsweepingshavings.
Tomsaid:“Goodday,Master
Saddler.”
Thesaddlerlookedup,classifiedTomasthekindofmanwhowouldmakehisownsaddleifheneededone,andgaveacurtnod.
“I’mabuilder,”Tomwenton.“Iseeyou’reinneedofmyservices.”
“Why?”
“Yourmortariscrumbling,yourstonesarecrackingandyourhousemaynotlastanotherwinter.”
Thesaddlershookhishead.“Thistownisfullofmasons.WhywouldIemployastranger?”
“Verywell.”Tomturnedaway.“Godbewithyou.”
“Ihopeso,”saidthesaddler.
“Anill-manneredfellow,”AgnesmutteredtoTomastheywalkedaway.
Thestreetledthemtoamarketplace.Hereinahalf-acreseaofmud,peasantsfromthesurroundingcountrysideexchangedwhatlittlesurplustheymighthaveofmeatorgrain,milkoreggs,forthethingstheyneededandcouldnotmakethemselves—pots,
plowshares,ropesandsalt.Marketswereusuallycolorfulandratherboisterous.Therewasalotofgood-naturedhaggling,mockrivalrybetweenadjacentstallholders,cheapcakesforthechildren,sometimesaminstreloragroupoftumblers,lotsofpaintedwhores,andperhapsacrippledsoldierwithtalesofeasterndesertsandberserkSaracenhordes.Thosewho
madeagoodbargainoftensuccumbedtothetemptationtocelebrate,andspenttheirprofitonstrongale,sothattherewasalwaysarowdyatmospherebymidday.Otherswouldlosetheirpenniesatdice,andthatledtofighting.Butnow,onawetdayinthemorning,withtheyear’sharvestsoldorstored,themarketwassubdued.Rain-soakedpeasantsmadetaciturnbargainswith
shiveringstallholders,andeveryonelookedforwardtogoinghometoablazingfireplace.
Tom’sfamilypushedthroughthedisconsolatecrowd,ignoringthehalfheartedblandishmentsofthesausagesellerandtheknifesharpener.TheyhadalmostreachedthefarsideofthemarketplacewhenTomsawhispig.
Hewassosurprisedthatatfirsthecouldnotbelievehiseyes.ThenAgneshissed:“Tom!Look!”andheknewshehadseenittoo.
Therewasnodoubtaboutit:heknewthatpigaswellasheknewAlfredorMartha.Itwasbeingheld,inanexpertgrip,byamanwhohadthefloridcomplexionandbroadgirthofonewhoeatsasmuchmeatasheneedsandthen
somemore:abutcher,withoutdoubt.BothTomandAgnesstoodandstaredathim,andsincetheyblockedhispathhecouldnothelpbutnoticethem.
“Well?”hesaid,puzzledbytheirstaresandimpatienttogetby.
ItwasMarthawhobrokethesilence.“That’sourpig!”shesaidexcitedly.
“Soitis,”saidTom,lookinglevellyatthebutcher.
Foraninstantafurtivelookcrossedtheman’sface,andTomrealizedheknewthepigwasstolen.Buthesaid:“I’vejustpaidfiftypenceforit,andthatmakesitmypig.”
“Whoeveryougaveyourmoneyto,thepigwasnothistosell.Nodoubtthatwaswhyyougotitsocheaply.
Whodidyoubuyitfrom?”
“Apeasant.”
“Oneyouknow?”
“No.Listen,I’mbutchertothegarrison.Ican’taskeveryfarmerwhosellsmeapigoracowtoproducetwelvementosweartheanimalishistosell.”
Themanturnedasideasifto
goaway,butTomcaughthimbythearmandstoppedhim.Foramomentthemanlookedangry,butthenherealizedthatifhegotintoascufflehewouldhavetodropthepig,andthatifoneofTom’sfamilymanagedtopickitup,thebalanceofpowerwouldchangeanditwouldbethebutcherwhohadtoproveownership.Soherestrainedhimselfandsaid:“Ifyouwanttomakeanaccusation,
gotothesheriff.”
Tomconsideredthatbrieflyanddismissedit.Hehadnoproof.Insteadhesaid:“Whatdidhelooklike—themanwhosoldyoumypig?”
Thebutcherlookedshiftyandsaid:“Likeanyoneelse.”
“Didhekeephismouthcovered?”
“NowthatIthinkofit,hedid.”
“Hewasanoutlaw,concealingamutilation,”Tomsaidbitterly.“Isupposeyoudidn’tthinkofthat.”
“It’spissingwithrain!”thebutcherprotested.“Everyone’smuffledup.”
“Justtellmehowlongagoheleftyou.”
“Justnow.”
“Andwherewasheheaded?”
“Toanalehouse,I’dguess.”
“Tospendmymoney,”Tomsaiddisgustedly.“Goon,clearoff.Youmayberobbedyourself,oneday,andthenyou’llwishtherewerenotsomanypeopleeagertobuyabargainwithoutaskingquestions.”
Thebutcherlookedangry,andhesitatedasifhewantedtomakesomerejoinder;thenhethoughtbetterofitanddisappeared.
Agnessaid:“Whydidyoulethimgo?”
“Becausehe’sknownhereandI’mnot,”Tomsaid.“IfIfightwithhimI’llbeblamed.Andbecausethepigdoesn’thavemynamewrittenonits
arse,sowhoistosaywhetheritismineornot?”
“Butalloursavings—”
“Wemaygetthemoneyforthepig,yet,”saidTom.“Shutupandletmethink.”Thealtercationwiththebutcherhadangeredhim,anditrelievedhisfrustrationtospeakharshlytoAgnes.“Somewhereinthistownthereisamanwithnolips
andfiftysilverpenniesinhispocket.Allwehavetodoisfindhimandtakethemoneyfromhim.”
“Right,”saidAgnesdeterminedly.
“Youwalkbackthewaywe’vecome.Goasfarasthecathedralclose.I’llwalkon,andcometothecathedralfromtheotherdirection.Thenwe’llreturnbythenextstreet,
andsoon.Ifhe’snotonthestreetshe’sinanalehouse.Whenyouseehim,staybyhimandsendMarthatofindme.I’lltakeAlfred.Trynottolettheoutlawseeyou.”
“Don’tworry,”Agnessaidgrimly.“Iwantthatmoney,tofeedmychildren.”
Tomtouchedherarmandsmiled.“You’realion,Agnes.”
Shelookedintohiseyesforamoment,thensuddenlystoodonhertoesandkissedhismouth,brieflybuthard.ThensheturnedandwentbackacrossthemarketplacewithMarthaintow.Tomwatchedheroutofsight,feelinganxiousforherdespitehercourage;thenhewentintheoppositedirectionwithAlfred.
Thethiefseemedtothinkhe
wasperfectlysafe.Ofcourse,whenhestolethepig,TomhadbeenheadingforWinchester.Thethiefhadgoneintheoppositedirection,tosellthepiginSalisbury.Buttheoutlawwoman,Ellen,hadtoldTomthatSalisburycathedralwasbeingrebuilt,andhehadchangedhisplans,andinadvertentlycaughtupwiththethief.However,themanthoughthewould’neversee
Tomagain,whichgaveTomachancetocatchhimunawares.
Tomwalkedslowlyalongthemuddystreet,tryingtoseemcasualasheglancedinatopendoorways.Hewantedtoremainunobtrusive,forthisepisodecouldendinviolence,andhedidnotwantpeopletorememberatallmasonsearchingthetown.Mostofthehouseswere
ordinaryhovelsofwood,mudandthatch,withstrawonthefloor,afireplaceinthemiddle,andafewbitsofhomemadefurniture.Abarrelandsomebenchesmadeanalehouse;abedinthecornerwithacurtaintoscreenitmeantawhore;anoisycrowdaroundasingletablesignifiedagameofdice.
Awomanwithred-stainedlipsbaredherbreaststohim,
andheshookhisheadandhurriedpast.Hewassecretlyintriguedbytheideaofdoingitwithatotalstranger,indaylight,andpayingforit,butinallhislifehehadnevertriedit.
HethoughtagainofEllen,theoutlawwoman.Therewassomethingintriguingabouther,too.Shewaspowerfullyattractive,butthosedeep-set,intenseeyeswere
intimidating.AninvitationfromawhoremadeTomfeeldiscontentedforafewmoments,butthespellcastbyEllenhadnotyetwornoff,andhehadasuddenfoolishdesiretorunbackintotheforestandfindherandfallonher.
Hearrivedatthecathedralclosewithoutseeingtheoutlaw.Helookedattheplumbersnailingtheleadto
thetriangulartimberroofoverthenave.Theyhadnotyetbeguntocoverthelean-toroofsonthesideaislesofthechurch,anditwasstillpossibletoseethesupportinghalf-archeswhichconnectedtheoutsideedgeoftheaislewiththemainnavewall,proppingupthetophalfofthechurch.HepointedthemouttoAlfred.“Withoutthosesupports,thenavewallwouldbowoutwardandbuckle,
becauseoftheweightofthestonevaultsinside,”heexplained.“Seehowthehalf-archeslineupwiththebuttressesintheaislewall?Theyalsolineupwiththepillarsofthenavearcadeinside.Andtheaislewindowslineupwiththearchesofthearcade.Stronglinesupwithstrong,andweakwithweak.”Alfredlookedbaffledandresentful.Tomsighed.
HesawAgnescomingfromtheoppositeside,andhismindreturnedtohisimmediateproblem.Agnes’shoodconcealedherface,butherecognizedherchin-forward,sure-footedwalk.Broad-shoulderedlaborerssteppedasidetoletherpass.Ifsheweretorunintotheoutlaw,andtherewasafight,hethoughtgrimly,itwouldbeafairlyevenmatch.
“Didyouseehim?”shesaid.
“No.Obviouslyyoudidn’teither.”Tomhopedthethiefhadnotleftthetownalready.Surelyhewouldnotgowithoutspendingsomeofhispennies?Moneywasnouseintheforest.
Agneswasthinkingthesame.“He’sheresomewhere.Let’skeeplooking.”
“We’llgobackbydifferentstreetsandmeetagaininthemarketplace.”
TomandAlfredretracedtheirstepsacrossthecloseandwentoutthroughthegateway.Therainwassoakingthroughtheircloaksnow,andTomthoughtfleetinglyofapotofbeerandabowlofbeefbrothbesideanalehousefire.Thenhethoughthowhardhehad
workedtobuythepig,andhesawagainthemanwithnolipsswinginghisclubatMartha’sinnocenthead,andhisangerwarmedhim.
Itwasdifficulttosearchsystematicallybecausetherewasnoordertothestreets.Theywanderedhereandthere,accordingtowherepeoplehadbuilthouses,andthereweremanysharpturnsandblindalleys.Theonly
straightstreetwastheonethatledfromtheeastgatetothecastledrawbridge.OnhisfirstsweepTomhadstayedclosetotherampartsofthecastle.Nowhesearchedtheoutskirts,zigzaggingtothetownwallandbackintotheinterior.Thesewerethepoorerquarters,withthemostramshacklebuildings,thenoisiestalehousesandtheoldestwhores.Theedgeofthetownwasdownhillfrom
thecenter,sotherefusefromthewealthierneighborhoodwaswasheddownthestreetstolodgebeneaththewalls.Somethingsimilarseemedtohappentothepeople,forthisdistricthadmorethanitsshareofcripplesandbeggars,hungrychildrenandbruisedwomenandhelplessdrunks.
Butthemanwithnolipswasnowheretobeseen.
TwiceTomspottedamanofabouttherightbuildandgeneralappearance,andtookacloserlook,onlytoseethattheman’sfacewasnormal.
Heendedhissearchatthemarketplace,andtherewasAgneswaitingforhimimpatiently,herbodytenseandhereyesgleaming.“I’vefoundhim!”sh