The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [416]
Waleran was just back from York. He had been away for almost half a year, and William politely asked him: “Did you have a successful trip?”
“No,” he replied. “Bishop Henry sent me there to attempt to resolve a four-year-old dispute over who is to be archbishop of York. I failed. The row goes on.”
The less said about that the better, William thought. He said: “While you’ve been away, there have been a lot of changes here. Especially at Kingsbridge.”
“At Kingsbridge?” Waleran was surprised. “I thought that problem had been solved once and for all.”
William shook his head. “They’ve got the Weeping Madonna.”
Waleran looked irritated. “What the devil are you talking about?”
William’s mother answered. “It’s a wooden statue of the Virgin that they use in processions. At certain times, water comes from its eyes. The people think it’s miraculous.”
“It is miraculous!” William said. “A statue that weeps!”
Waleran gave him a scornful look.
Regan said: “Miraculous or not, thousands of people have been to see it in the last few months. Meanwhile, Prior Philip has recommenced building. They’re repairing the chancel and putting a new timber ceiling on it, and they’ve started on the rest of the church. The foundations for the crossing have been dug, and some new stonemasons have arrived from Paris.”
“Paris?” Waleran said.
Regan said: “The church is now going to be built in the style of Saint-Denis, whatever that is.”
Waleran nodded. “Pointed arches. I heard talk of it at York.”
William did not care what style Kingsbridge Cathedral would be. He said: “The point is, young men off my farms are moving to Kingsbridge to work as laborers, the Kingsbridge market is open again every Sunday, taking business away from Shiring.... It’s the same old story!” He glanced uneasily at the other two, wondering whether either of them suspected that he had an ulterior motive; but neither looked suspicious.
Waleran said: “The worst mistake I ever made was to help Philip become prior.”
“They’re going to have to learn that they just can’t do this,” William said.
Waleran looked at him thoughtfully. “What do you want to do?”
“I’m going to sack the town again.” And when I do, I’ll kill Aliena and her lover, he thought; and he looked into the fire, so that his mother should not meet his eyes and read his thoughts.
“I’m not sure you can,” Waleran said.
“I’ve done it before—why shouldn’t I do it again?”
“Last time you had a good reason: the fleece fair.”
“This time it’s the market. They’ve never had King Stephen’s permission for that either.”
“It’s not quite the same. Philip was pushing his luck by holding a fleece fair, and you attacked it immediately. The Sunday market has been going on at Kingsbridge for six years now, and anyway, it’s twenty miles from Shiring so it ought to be licensed.”
William suppressed his anger. He wanted to tell Waleran to stop being such a feeble old woman; but that would never do.
While he was swallowing his protest a steward came into the room and stood silently by the door. Waleran said:
“There’s a man here who insists on seeing you, my lord bishop. Name of Jack Jackson. A builder, from Kingsbridge. Shall I send him away?”
William’s heart raced. It was Aliena’s lover. How had the man happened to come here just when William was plotting his death? Perhaps he had supernatural powers. William was possessed by dread.
“From Kingsbridge?” Waleran said with interest.
Regan said: “He’s the new master builder there, the one who brought the Weeping Madonna from Spain.”
“Interesting,” said Waleran. “Let’s have a look at him.” He said to the steward: “Send him in.”
William stared at the door with superstitious