The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [394]
It would have looked too fragile to stay upright, except that the ribs showed so clearly how the weight of the building was being carried by the piers and columns. Here was a visible demonstration that a big building did not need thick walls with tiny windows and massive piers. Provided the weight was distributed precisely on a load-bearing skeleton, the rest of the building could be light stonework, glass, or empty space. Jack was spellbound. It was almost like falling in love. Euclid had been a revelation, but this was more than a revelation, for it was beautiful too. He had had visions of a church like this, and now he was actually looking at it, touching it, standing under its sky-high vault.
He walked around the curved east end in a daze, staring at the vaulting of the double aisle. The ribs arched over his head like branches in a forest of perfect stone trees. Here, as in the narthex, the filling between the ceiling ribs was cut stone jointed with mortar, instead of the easier, but heavier, rubble-and-mortar. The outer wall of the aisle had pairs of big windows with pointed tops to match the pointed arches. The revolutionary architecture was perfectly complemented by the colored windows. Jack had never seen colored glass in England, but he had come across several examples in France: however, in the small windows of an old-style church it could not achieve its full potential. Here, the effect of the morning sun pouring through the rich many-colored windows was more than beautiful, it was spellbinding.
Because the church was round-ended, the side aisles curved around to meet at the east end, forming a semicircular ambulatory or walkway. Jack walked all the way around the half circle, then turned and came back, still marveling. He returned to his starting point.
There he saw a woman.
He recognized her.
She smiled.
His heart stood still.
Aliena shaded her eyes. The sunlight coming through the windows at the east end of the church dazzled her. Like a vision, a figure walked toward her out of the blaze of colored sunshine. He looked as if his hair was on fire. He came closer. It was Jack.
Aliena felt faint.
He came to her and stood in front of her. He was thin, terribly thin, but his eyes shone with an intensity of emotion. They stared at one another in silence for a moment.
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Is it really you?” “Yes,” she said. Her voice came out in a whisper. “Yes, Jack. It’s really me.”
The tension was too much, and she began to cry. He put his arms around her and hugged her, with the baby in her arms between them, and patted her back, saying “There, there,” as if she were a child. She leaned against him, breathing his familiar dusty smell, hearing his dear voice as he soothed her, letting her tears fall on his bony shoulder.
Eventually he looked at her face and said: “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” she said.
“Looking for me?” he said incredulously. “Then ... how did you find me?”
She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “I followed you.”
“How?”
“I asked people if they had seen you. Masons, mostly, but some monks and lodging-house keepers.”
His eyes widened. “You mean—you’ve been to Spain?”
She nodded. “Compostela, then Salamanca, then Toledo.”
“How long have you been traveling?”
“Three fourths of a year.”
“But why?”
“Because I love you.”
He seemed overwhelmed. His eyes filled with tears. He whispered: “I love you, too.”
“Do you? Do you, still?”
“Oh, yes.”
She could tell he meant it. She tilted her face up. He leaned forward, over the baby, and kissed her softly. The touch of his mouth on hers made her feel dizzy.
The baby cried.
She broke the kiss and rocked him a little, and he quieted.
Jack said: “What’s the baby called?”
“I haven’t named