The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [142]
After breakfast Philip held an impromptu chapter in Cuthbert’s storeroom beneath the kitchen. The monks were nervously excited. They were men who had chosen, or had reconciled themselves to, a life of security, predictability and tedium, and most of them were badly disoriented. Their bewilderment touched Philip’s heart. He felt more than ever like a shepherd, whose job it is to care for foolish and helpless creatures; except that these were not dumb animals, they were his brothers, and he loved them. The way to comfort them, he had decided, was to tell them what was going to happen, use up their nervous energy in hard work, and return to a semblance of normal routine as soon as possible.
Despite the unusual surroundings, Philip did not abbreviate the ritual of chapter. He ordered the reading of the martyrology for the day, followed by the memorial prayers. This was what monasteries were for: prayer was the justification of their existence. Nevertheless, some of the monks were restive, so he chose Chapter Twenty of Saint Benedict’s Rule, the section called “On Reverence at Prayer.” The necrology followed. The familiar ritual calmed their nerves, and he noticed that the scared look was slowly leaving the faces around him as the monks realized that their world was not coming to an end after all.
At the end Philip rose to address them. “The catastrophe that struck us last night is, after all, only physical,” he began, putting into his voice as much warmth and reassurance as he could. “Our life is spiritual; our work is prayer, worship and contemplation.” He looked all around the room for a moment, catching as many eyes as he could, making sure he had their concentrated attention; then he said: “We will resume that work within a few days, that I promise you.”
He paused to let those words sink in, and the easing of tension in the room was almost tangible. He gave them a moment, then went on. “God in his wisdom sent us a master builder yesterday to help us through this crisis. He has assured me that if we work under his direction we can have the cloisters ready for normal use within a week.”
There was a subdued murmur of pleased surprise.
“I’m afraid our church will never be used for services again—it will have to be built anew, and that will take many years, of course. However, Tom Builder believes the crypt to be undamaged. The crypt is consecrated, so we can hold services there. Tom says he can make it safe within a week after finishing the cloisters. So, you see, we can resume normal worship in time for Quinquagesima Sunday.”
Once again their relief was audible. Philip saw that he had succeeded in soothing and reassuring them. At the beginning of this chapter they had been frightened and confused; now they were calm and hopeful. Philip added: “Brothers who feel themselves too frail to undertake physical labor will be excused. Brothers who work all day with Tom Builder will be allowed red meat and wine.”
Philip sat down. Remigius was the first to speak. “How much will we have to pay this builder?” he asked suspiciously.
You could trust Remigius to try to find fault. “Nothing, yet,” Philip replied. “Tom knows our poverty. He will work for food and lodging for himself and his family, until we can afford his wages.” That was ambiguous, Philip realized: it might mean that Tom would not be entitled to wages until the priory could afford it, whereas the reality was that the priory would owe him wages for every day he worked, starting today. But before Philip could clarify the agreement, Remigius spoke again.
“And where will they lodge?”
“I have given them the guesthouse.”
“They could lodge with one of the village families.”
“Tom has made us a generous offer,” Philip said impatiently. “We’re fortunate to have him. I don’t want to make him sleep crowded in with someone’s goats and pigs when we have a decent house standing empty.”
“There are two women in that family—”
“A woman and a girl,” Philip corrected him.
“One woman, then. We don’t want a woman living in the priory!”
The monks muttered