The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [339]
The glitter went from Waleran’s eyes and his face became expressionless again. “That’s exactly what I mean,” he said.
William had no choice, but in any event he could see no reason to refuse. He had switched to Maud when she appeared to be winning, and he was quite ready to switch back now that Stephen seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Anyway, he would have consented to anything to be free of that awful terror of hell. “Agreed, then,” he said without further hesitation. “Only hear my confession, quickly.”
“Very well,” said Waleran. “Let us pray.”
As they went briskly through the service, William felt the load of guilt fall from his back, and he gradually began to be pleased about his triumph. When he emerged from the chapel his men could see that his spirits had lifted, and they cheered up immediately. William told them that they would once again be fighting for King Stephen, in accordance with the will of God as expressed by Bishop Waleran, and they made that the excuse for a celebration. Waleran called for wine.
While they were waiting for dinner, William said: “Stephen ought to confirm me in my earldom now.”
“He ought to,” Waleran agreed. “But that doesn’t mean he will.”
“But I’ve come over to his side!”
“Richard of Kingsbridge never left it.”
William permitted himself a smug smile. “I think I’ve disposed of the threat from Richard.”
“Oh? How?”
“Richard has never had any land. The only way he’s been able to keep up a knightly entourage is by using his sister’s money.”
“It’s unorthodox, but it’s worked so far.”
“But now his sister no longer has any money. I set fire to her barn yesterday. She’s destitute. And so is Richard.”
Waleran nodded acknowledgment. “In that case it’s only a matter of time before he disappears from sight. And then, I should think, the earldom is yours.”
Dinner was ready. William’s men-at-arms sat below the salt and flirted with the palace laundresses. William was at the head of the table with Waleran and his archdeacons. Now that he had relaxed, William rather envied the men with the laundresses: archdeacons made dull company.
Dean Baldwin offered William a dish of peas and said: “Lord William, how will you prevent someone else from doing what Prior Philip tried to do, and starting his own fleece fair?”
William was surprised by this question. “They wouldn’t dare!”
“Another monk wouldn’t dare, perhaps; but an earl might.”
“He’d need a license.”
“He might get one, if he fought for Stephen.”
“Not in this county.”
“Baldwin is right, William,” said Bishop Waleran. “All around the borders of your earldom there are towns that could hold a fleece fair: Wilton, Devizes, Wells, Marlborough, Wallingford....”
“I burned Kingsbridge, I can burn any place,” William said irritably. He took a swallow of wine. It angered him to have his victory deprecated.
Waleran took a roll of new bread and broke it without eating any. “Kingsbridge is an easy target,” he argued. “It has no town wall, no castle, not even a big church for people to take refuge in. And it’s run by a monk who has no knights or men-at-arms. Kingsbridge is defenseless. Most towns aren’t.”
Dean Baldwin added: “And when the civil war is over, whoever wins, you won’t even be able to burn a town like Kingsbridge and get away with it. That’s breaking the king’s peace. No king could overlook it in normal times.”
William saw their point and it made him angry. “Then the whole thing might have been for nothing,” he said. He put down his knife. His stomach was cramped with tension and he could no longer eat.
Waleran said: “Of course, if Aliena is ruined, that leaves a kind of vacancy.”
William did not follow him. “What do you mean?”
“Most of the wool in the county was sold to her this year. What will happen next year?”
“I don’t know.