The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [544]
She smiled.
He ran his hand down her neck and across her bosom. Her breasts had changed, too. He remembered when they had stuck out from her chest as if they were weightless, the nipples pointing up. Then, when she was pregnant, they had become even bigger, and the nipples had grown larger. Now they were lower and softer, and they swung delightfully from side to side when she walked. He had loved them through all their changes. He wondered what they would be like when she was old. Would they become shriveled and wrinkled? I’ll probably love them even then, he thought. He felt her nipple harden under his touch. He leaned forward to kiss her lips.
“Jack, you’re in church,” she murmured.
“Never mind,” he said, and he ran his hand over her belly to her groin.
There was a footstep on the stair.
He pulled away guiltily.
She grinned at his discomfiture. “That’s God’s judgment on you,” she said irreverently.
“I’ll see to you later,” he whispered in a mock-threatening tone.
The footsteps reached the top of the stair and Prior Jonathan emerged. He greeted them both solemnly. He looked grave. “There’s something I want you to hear, Jack,” he said. “Will you come to the cloisters?”
“Of course.” Jack got to his feet.
Jonathan went back down the spiral staircase.
Jack paused at the doorway and pointed a threatening finger at Aliena. “Later,” he said.
“Promise?” she said with a grin.
Jack followed Jonathan down the stairs and through the church to the door in the south transept that led into the cloisters. They went along the north walk, past the school-boys with their wax tablets, and stopped at the corner. With an inclination of his head Jonathan directed Jack’s attention to a monk sitting alone on a stone ledge halfway down the west walk. The monk’s hood was up, covering his face, but as they paused, the man turned, looked up, and then quickly averted his gaze.
Jack took an involuntary step back.
The monk was Waleran Bigod.
Jack said angrily: “What’s that devil doing here?”
“Preparing to meet his Maker,” Jonathan said.
Jack frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“He’s a broken man,” Jonathan said. “He’s got no position, no power and no friends. He’s realized that God doesn’t want him to be a great and powerful bishop. He’s seen the error of his ways. He came here, on foot, and begged to be admitted as a humble monk, to spend the rest of his days asking God’s forgiveness for his sins.”
“I find that hard to believe,” said Jack.
“So did I, at first,” said Jonathan. “But in the end I realized that he has always been a genuinely God-fearing man.”
Jack looked skeptical.
“I really think he was devout. He just made one crucial mistake: he believed that the end justifies the means in the service of God. That permitted him to do anything.”
“Including conspiring to murder an archbishop!”
Jonathan held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “God must punish him for that—not I.”
Jack shrugged. It was the kind of thing Philip would have said. Jack saw no reason to let Waleran live in the priory. However, that was the way of monks. “Why did you want me to see him?”
“He wants to tell you why they hanged your father.”
Jack suddenly felt cold.
Waleran was sitting as still as a stone, gazing into space. He was barefoot. The fragile white ankles of an old man were visible below the hem of his homespun habit. Jack realized that Waleran was no longer frightening. He was feeble, defeated and sad.
Jack walked slowly forward and sat down on the bench a yard away from Waleran.
“The old King Henry was too strong,” Waleran said without preamble. “Some of the barons didn’t like it—they were too restricted. They wanted a weaker king next time. But Henry had a son, William.”
All this was ancient history. “That was before I was born,” Jack said.
“Your father died before you were born,” Waleran said, with just a hint of his old superciliousness.
Jack nodded. “Go on, then.”
“A group of barons decided to kill Henry’s son, William. Their thinking was that if the succession was in doubt, they would have more influence over the choice of the new