The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [273]
“I gave you that quarry years ago, didn’t I?” said King Stephen.
“Not exactly,” Philip replied through gritted teeth. “You gave us the right to take stone for the cathedral. But you gave the quarry to Percy Hamleigh. Now Percy’s son, William, has thrown out my stonecutters, killing five people—including a woman and a child—and he refuses us access.”
“He shouldn’t do things like that, especially if he wants me to make him earl of Shiring,” Stephen said thoughtfully. Philip was encouraged. But a moment later the king said: “I’m damned if I can see a way to get into this castle.”
“Please make William reopen the quarry,” Philip said. “He is defying you and stealing from God.”
Stephen seemed not to hear. “I don’t think they’ve got many men in there,” he said in the same musing tone. “I suspect nearly all of them are on the ramparts, to make a show of strength. What was that about a market?”
This was all part of the test, Philip decided; making him stand out in the open with his back to a host of archers. He wiped his brow with the fur cuff of the king’s cloak. “My lord king, every Sunday people come from all over the county to worship at Kingsbridge and labor, for no wages, on the cathedral building site. When we first began, a few enterprising men and women would come to the site and sell meat pies, and wine, and hats, and knives, to the volunteer workers. So, gradually, a market grew up. And now I am asking you to license it.”
“Will you pay for your license?”
A payment was normal, Philip knew, but he also knew that it might be waived for a religious body. “Yes, lord, I will pay—unless you would wish to give us the license without payment, for the greater glory of God.”
Stephen looked directly into Philip’s eyes for the first time. “You’re a brave man, to stand there, with the enemy behind you, and bargain with me.”
Philip gave back an equally frank stare. “If God decides my life is over, nothing can save me,” he said, sounding braver than he felt. “But if God wants me to live on and build Kingsbridge Cathedral, ten thousand archers cannot strike me down.”
“Well said!” Stephen remarked, and, clapping a hand on Philip’s shoulder, he turned toward the cathedral. Weak with relief, Philip walked beside him, feeling better for every step away from the castle. He seemed to have passed the test. But it was important to get an unambiguous commitment from the king. Any moment now he would be engulfed by courtiers again. As they passed through the line of sentries, Philip took his courage in both hands and said: “My lord king, if you would write a letter to the sheriff of Shiring—”
He was interrupted. One of the earls rushed up, looking flustered, and said: “Robert of Gloucester is on his way here, my lord king.”
“What? How far away?”
“Close. A day at most—”
“Why haven’t I been warned? I posted men all around!”
“They came by the Fosse Way, then turned off the road to approach across open country.”
“Who is with him?”
“All the earls and knights on his side who have lost their lands in the last two years. Ranulf of Chester is also with him—”
“Of course. Treacherous dog.”
“He has brought all his knights from Chester, plus a horde of wild rapacious Welshmen.”
“How many men altogether?”
“About a thousand.”
“Damn—that’s a hundred more than we have.”
By this time several barons had gathered around, and now another one spoke. “Lord, if he’s coming across open country, he’ll have to cross the river at the ford—”
“Good thinking, Edward!” Stephen said. “Take your men down to that ford and see if you can hold it. You’ll need archers, too.”
“How far are they now, does anybody know?” asked Edward.
The first earl said: “Very close, the scout said. They could reach the ford before you.”
“I’ll go right away,” Edward said.
“Good man!” said King Stephen. He made a fist with his right hand and punched