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By Root 2130 0

a long way to the nearest door, which was in the south transept. He was not sure he could drag the coffin all that way before the whole roof fell in. Perhaps that was what the devil was counting on. Philip could not stop himself from looking up into the flames again. The smoky two-legged figure darted behind a blackened beam just as Philip caught sight of it. He knows I can’t make it, Philip thought. He looked along the aisle, tempted to abandon the saint and run for his life—and there he saw, coming toward him, Brother Milius, Cuthbert Whitehead, and Tom Builder, three very corporeal forms rushing to his aid. His heart leaped for joy, and suddenly he was not sure there was a fiend in the roof at all.

“Thank God!” he said. “Help me with this,” he added unnecessarily.

Tom Builder took one swift appraising look at the burning roof. He did not appear to see any fiends, but he said: “Let’s make it quick.”

They each took a corner and lifted the coffin onto their shoulders. It was a strain even with four of them. Philip called: “Forward!” They walked along the aisle as fast as they could, bowed down by the heavy burden.

When they reached the south transept, Tom called: “Wait.” The floor was an obstacle course of small fires, and more fragments of burning wood fell continuously. Philip peered across the gap, trying to map a route through the flames. During the few moments that they paused, a rumble began at the west end of the church. Philip looked up, full of dread. The rumble grew to a thunder.

Tom Builder said enigmatically: “It’s weak, like the other one.”

“What is?” Philip shouted.

“The southwest tower.”

“Oh, no!”

The thunder became even louder. Philip looked, horrified, as the entire west end of the church seemed to move forward a yard, as if the hand of God had struck it. Ten or more yards of roof fell down into the nave with the impact of an earthquake. Then the whole of the southwest tower seemed to crumble and fall, like a landslide, into the church.

Philip was paralyzed with shock. His church was disintegrating in front of his eyes. The damage would take years to repair even if he could find the money. What would he do? How would the monastery continue? Was this the end of Kingsbridge Priory?

He was jerked out of his paralysis by the movement of the coffin on his shoulder when the other three men pressed forward. Philip followed where it took him. Tom negotiated a way through the maze of fires. A burning brand fell on top of the coffin but fortunately it slipped to the floor without touching any of them. A moment later they reached the opposite side and passed through the door, out of the church into the cool night air.

Philip was so devastated by the destruction of the church that he felt no relief at his own escape. They hurried around the cloisters to the south arch and passed through. When they were well clear of the buildings Tom said: “This will do.” Thankfully, they lowered the coffin to the frosty ground.

Philip took a few moments to catch his breath. In that pause he realized that this was no time to act stunned. He was the prior, he was in charge here. What should he do next? It might be wise to make sure all the monks had escaped safely. He took one more deep breath, then straightened his shoulders and looked at the other men. “Cuthbert, you stay here and guard the saint’s coffin,” he said. “The rest of you, follow me.”

He led them around the back of the kitchen buildings, passed between the brewery and the mill, and crossed the green to the guesthouse. The monks, Tom’s family, and most of the villagers were standing around in groups, talking in subdued tones and staring wide-eyed at the blazing church. Philip turned to look at it before speaking to them. The sight was painful. The entire west end was a pile of rubble, and huge flames were shooting up from what remained of the roof.

He tore his gaze away. “Is everyone here?” he called out. “If you can think of anyone who’s missing, call out his name.”

Someone said: “Cuthbert Whitehead.”

“He’s guarding the bones of the saint. Anyone else?”