The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [305]
She wondered where he got his ideas from. That thought had made her notice Ellen. What a strange woman she must be, to raise a child in the forest! Aliena had talked to Ellen and found in her a kindred spirit, an independent and self-sufficient woman somewhat angry at the way life had treated her. Now, on impulse, Aliena said: “Ellen, where did you learn the stories?”
“From Jack’s father,” Ellen said without thinking, and then a guarded look came over her face, and Aliena knew she should not ask any more questions.
Another thought occurred to her. “Do you know how to weave?”
“Of course,” Ellen said. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“Would you like to do some weaving for money?”
“Perhaps. What have you got in mind?”
Aliena explained. Ellen was not short of money, of course, but it was Tom who earned it, and Aliena had a suspicion that Ellen might like to make some for herself.
The suspicion turned out to be right. “Yes, I’ll give that a try,” Ellen said.
At that moment Ellen’s stepson, Alfred, came along. Like his father, Alfred was something of a giant. Most of his face was concealed behind a bushy beard, but the eyes above it were narrow-set, giving him a cunning look. He could read and write and add up, but despite that he was rather stupid. Nevertheless he had prospered, and he had his own gang of masons, apprentices and laborers. Aliena had observed that big men often gained positions of power regardless of their intelligence. As a ganger Alfred had another advantage, of course: he could always be sure of getting work for his men because his father was the master builder of Kingsbridge Cathedral.
He sat on the grass beside her. He had enormous feet shod in heavy leather boots that were gray with stone dust. She rarely spoke to him. They should have had a lot in common, for they were the only young people among the wealthier class of Kingsbridge, the class that lived in the houses nearest to the priory wall; but Alfred always seemed so dull. After a moment he spoke. “There ought to be a stone church,” he said abruptly.
Clearly the rest of them were supposed to figure out the context of this remark for themselves. Aliena thought for a moment then said: “Are you talking about the parish church?”
“Yes,” he said as if it was obvious.
The parish church was now used a good deal, for the cathedral crypt, which the monks were using, was cramped and airless, and the population of Kingsbridge had grown. Yet the parish church was an old wooden building with a thatched roof and a dirt floor.
“You’re right,” Aliena said. “We should have a stone church.”
Alfred was looking at her expectantly. She wondered what he wanted her to say.
Ellen, who was probably used to coaxing sense out of him, said: “What’s on your mind, Alfred?”
“How do churches get started, anyway?” he asked. “I mean, if we want a stone church, what do we do?”
Ellen shrugged. “No idea.”
Aliena frowned. “You could form a parish guild,” she suggested. A parish guild was an association of people who held a banquet every now and again and collected money among themselves, usually to buy candles for their local church, or to help widows and orphans in the neighborhood. Small villages never had guilds, but Kingsbridge was no longer a village.
“How would that do it?” Alfred said.
“The members of the guild would pay for the new church,” Aliena said.
“Then we should start a guild,” Alfred said.
Aliena wondered if she had misjudged him. He had never struck her as the pious type, but here he was trying to raise money to build a new church. Perhaps he had hidden depths. Then she realized that Alfred was the only building contractor in Kingsbridge, so he was sure to get the job of building the church. He might not be intelligent, but he was shrewd enough.
Nevertheless she still liked his idea. Kingsbridge was becoming