The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [163]
Philip looked at him strangely. Tom could not tell whether he was angry, or something else. “Because it will be beautiful,” Philip repeated. Tom began to feel that was a silly reason, and decided to say something more, but he could not decide what. Then he realized that Philip was not skeptical at all—he was moved. Tom’s words had touched his heart. Finally Philip nodded, as if agreeing after some reflection. “Yes. And what could be better than to make something beautiful for God?” he said.
Tom remained silent. Philip had not said Yes, you shall be master builder. Tom waited.
Philip seemed to reach a decision. “I’m going with Bishop Waleran to see the king in Winchester in three days’ time,” he said. “I don’t know exactly what the bishop plans, but I’m sure we will be asking King Stephen to help us pay for a new cathedral church for Kingsbridge.”
“Let’s hope he grants your wish,” Tom said.
“He owes us a favor,” Philip said with an enigmatic smile. “He ought to help us.”
“And if he does?” Tom said.
“I think God sent you to me with a purpose, Tom Builder,” said Philip. “If King Stephen gives us the money, you can build the church.”
It was Tom’s turn to be moved. He hardly knew what to say. He had been granted his life’s wish—but conditionally. Everything depended on Philip’s getting help from the king. He nodded, accepting the promise and the risk. “Thank you, Father,” he said.
The bell rang for vespers. Tom picked up his board.
“Do you need that?” Philip said.
Tom realized it would be a good idea to leave it here. It would be a constant reminder to Philip. “No, I don’t need it,” he said. “I have it all in my head.”
“Good. I’d like to keep it here.”
Tom nodded and went to the door.
It occurred to him that if he did not ask about Agnes now he probably never would. He turned back. “Father?”
“Yes?”
“My first wife ... Agnes, her name was ... she died without a priest, and she’s buried in unconsecrated ground. She hadn’t sinned, it was just ... the circumstances. I wondered ... Sometimes a man builds a chapel, or founds a monastery, in the hope that in the afterlife, God will remember his piety. Do you think my design might serve to protect Agnes’s soul?”
Philip frowned. “Abraham was asked to sacrifice his only son. God no longer asks for blood sacrifices, for the ultimate sacrifice has been made. But the lesson of Abraham’s story is that God demands the best we have to offer, that which is most precious to us. Is this design the best thing you could offer God?”
“Except for my children, yes.”
“Then rest easy, Tom Builder. God will accept it.”
II
Philip had no idea why Waleran Bigod wanted to meet him in the ruins of Earl Bartholomew’s castle.
He had been obliged to travel to the town of Shiring and spend the night there, then set off this morning for Earlscastle. Now, as the horse jogged toward the castle looming up out of the morning mist ahead of him, he decided it was probably a matter of convenience: Waleran was on his way from one place to another, passing no nearer to Kingsbridge than here, and the castle was a handy landmark.
Philip wished he knew more about what Waleran was planning. He had not seen the bishop-elect since the day he had inspected the cathedral ruins. Waleran did not know how much money Philip needed to build the church, and Philip did not know what Waleran was planning to ask from the king. Waleran liked to keep his plans to himself. It made Philip highly nervous.
He was glad to have learned, from Tom Builder, exactly what it would take to build the new cathedral, depressing though the news was. Once again he was glad Tom was around. Tom was a man of surprising depths. He could hardly read or write, but he could design a cathedral, draw plans, calculate the numbers of men and the time it would take to build, and figure out how much all that would cost. He