The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [256]
The man with the black beard saw her and gave a grunt of exasperation.
William said: “Who’s your husband, wench?”
The father said: “She has no—”
He was too late, however, for the girl said: “Edmund.”
“So you are married. But who’s your father?”
“I am,” said the man with the black beard. “Theobald.”
William turned to Arthur. “Is Theobald a freeman?”
“He’s a serf, lord.”
“And when a serf’s daughter marries, is it not the lord’s right, as her owner, to enjoy her on the wedding night?”
Arthur was shocked. “Lord! That primitive custom has not been enforced in this part of the world in living memory!”
“True,” said William. “The father pays a fine, instead. How much did Theobald pay?”
“He hasn’t paid yet, lord, but—”
“Not paid! And she with a fat red-cheeked child!” Theobald said: “We never had the money, lord, and she was with child by Edmund, and wanted to be wed, but we can pay now, for we’ve got the crop in.”
William smiled at the girl. “Let me see the baby.”
She stared at him fearfully.
“Come. Give it to me.
She was afraid but she could not bring herself to hand over her baby. William stepped closer and gently took the child from her. Her eyes filled with terror but she did not resist him.
The baby began to squall. William held it for a moment, then grasped both its ankles in one hand and with a swift motion threw it into the air as high as he could.
The girl screamed like a banshee and gazed into the air as the baby flew upward.
The father ran forward with his arms outstretched to catch it as it fell.
While the girl was looking up and screaming, William took a handful of her dress and ripped it. She had a pink, rounded young body.
The father caught the baby safely.
The girl turned to run, but William caught her and threw her to the ground.
The father handed the baby to a woman and turned to look at William.
William said: “As I wasn’t given my due on the wedding night, and the fine hasn’t been paid, I’ll take what’s owed me now.”
The father rushed at him.
William drew his sword.
The father stopped.
William looked at the girl, lying on the ground, trying to cover her nakedness with her hands. Her fear aroused him. “And when I’ve done, my knights will have her too,” he said with a contented smile.
II
In three years Kingsbridge had changed beyond recognition.
William had not been here since the Whitsunday when Philip and his army of volunteers had frustrated Waleran Bigod’s scheme. Then it had been forty or fifty wooden houses clustered around the priory gate and scattered along the muddy footpath that led to the bridge. Now, he saw as he approached the village across the undulating fields, there were three times as many houses, at least. They formed a brown fringe all around the gray stone wall of the priory and completely filled the space between the priory and the river. Several of the houses looked large. Within the priory close there were new stone buildings, and the walls of the church seemed to be going up fast. There were two new quays beside the river. Kingsbridge had become a town.
The appearance of the place confirmed a suspicion that had been growing in his mind since he had come home from the war. As he had toured around, collecting arrears of rent and terrorizing disobedient serfs, he had continually heard talk of Kingsbridge. Landless young men were going there to work; prosperous families were sending their sons to school at the priory; smallholders would sell their eggs and cheese to the men working on the building site; and everyone who could went there on holy days, even though there was no cathedral. Today was a holy day—Michaelmas Day, which fell on a Sunday this year. It was a mild early-autumn morning, nice weather for traveling, so there should be a good crowd. William expected to find out what drew them to Kingsbridge.
His five henchmen rode with him. They had done sterling work in the villages. The news of William’s tour had spread with uncanny speed, and after the first few days people