World Without End (11 page)

Then Joachim died, and Elfric took over. Elfric believed the main thing an apprentice had to learn was obedience. Merthin found this difficult to accept, and Elfric punished him with short rations, thin clothing, and outdoor work in frosty weather. To make matters worse, Elfric's chubby daughter Griselda, the same age as Merthin, was always well fed and warmly dressed.

Three years ago Elfric's wife had died, and he had married Alice, the older sister of Caris. People thought Alice was the prettier sister, and it was true that she had more regular features, but she lacked Caris's captivating ways, and Merthin found her dull. Alice had always seemed to like Merthin almost as much as her sister did, and so he had hoped she would make Elfric treat him better. But the reverse happened. Alice seemed to think it was her wifely duty to join with Elfric in tormenting him.

Merthin knew that many other apprentices suffered in the same way, and they all put up with it because apprenticeship was the only way into a well-paid trade. The craft guilds efficiently kept out upstarts. No one could do business in a town without belonging to a guild. Even a priest, a monk, or a woman who wanted to deal in wool or brew ale for sale would have to get into a guild. And outside the towns there was little business to be done: peasants built their own houses and sewed their own shirts.

At the end of the apprenticeship, most boys would remain with the master, working as journeymen for a wage. A few would end up partners, taking over the enterprise when the old man died. That would not be Merthin's destiny. He hated Elfric too much. He would leave the moment he could.

'Let's look at it from above,' said Godwyn.

They walked toward the east end. Elfric said: 'It's good to see you back from Oxford, Brother Godwyn. But you must miss the company of all those learned people.'

Godwyn nodded. 'The masters are truly astonishing.'

'And the other students - they must be remarkable young men, I imagine. Though we hear tales of bad behavior, too.'

Godwyn looked rueful. 'I'm afraid some of those stories are true. When a young priest or monk is away from home for the first time, he may suffer temptation.'

'Still - we're fortunate to have the benefit of university-trained men here in Kingsbridge.'

'Very kind of you to say so.'

'Oh, but it's true.'

Merthin wanted to say: Shut up, for pity's sake. But this was Elfric's way. He was a poor craftsman, his work inaccurate and his judgment shaky, but he knew how to ingratiate himself. Merthin had watched him do it, time and again - for Elfric could be as charming to people from whom he wanted something as he could be rude to those who had nothing he needed.

Merthin was more surprised at Godwyn. How could an intelligent and educated man fail to see through Elfric? Perhaps it was less obvious to the person who was the object of the compliments.

Godwyn opened a small door and led the way up a narrow spiral staircase concealed in the wall. Merthin felt excited. He loved to enter the hidden passageways of the cathedral. He was also curious about the dramatic collapse, and eager to figure out its cause.

The aisles were single-story structures that stuck out either side of the main body of the church. They had rib-vaulted stone ceilings. Above the vault, a lean-to roof rose from the outer edge of the aisle up to the base of the clerestory. Under that sloping roof was a triangular void, its floor the hidden side, or extrados, of the aisle's vaulted ceiling. The four men climbed into this void to look at the damage from above.

It was lit by window openings into the interior of the church, and Thomas had had the foresight to bring an oil lamp. The first thing Merthin noticed was that the vaults, viewed from above, were not exactly the same in each bay. The easternmost formed a slightly flatter curve than its neighbor, and the next one - partly destroyed - looked as though it was different again.

They walked along the extrados, staying close to the edge where the vault was strongest, until they were as near as they dared go to the collapsed portion. The vault was constructed in the same way as the rest of the church, of stones mortared together, except that ceiling stones were very thin and light. The vault was almost vertical at its springing, but as it rose it leaned inward, until it met the stonework coming up from the opposite edge.

Elfric said: 'Well, the first thing to do is obviously to rebuild the vaulting over the first two bays of the aisle.'

Thomas said: 'It's a long time since anyone in Kingsbridge built rib-vaulting.' He turned to Merthin. 'Could you make the formwork?'

Merthin knew what he meant. At the edge of the vault, where the masonry was almost upright, the stones would stay in place by their own weight; but, higher up, as the curve turned toward the horizontal, some support was needed to keep everything in place while the mortar dried. The obvious method was to make a wooden frame, called formwork or centering, and lay the stones on top of that.

It was a challenging job for a carpenter, for the curves had to be just right. Thomas knew the quality of Merthin's craftsmanship, having closely supervised the work Merthin and Elfric carried out at the cathedral over several years. However, it was tactless of Thomas to address the apprentice rather than the boss, and Elfric reacted quickly. 'Under my supervision he can do it, yes,' he said.

'I can make the formwork,' Merthin said, already thinking about how the frame would be supported by the scaffolding, and the platform on which the masons would have to stand. 'But these vaults were not built with formwork.'

'Don't talk nonsense, boy,' Elfric said. 'Of course they were. You know nothing about it.'

Merthin knew it was unwise to argue with his employer. On the other hand, in six months he would be competing with Elfric for work, and he needed people such as Brother Godwyn to believe in his competence. Also, he was stung by the scorn in Elfric's voice, and he felt an irresistible desire to prove his master wrong. 'Look at the extrados,' he said indignantly. 'Having finished one bay, surely the masons would have re-used the same formwork for the next. In which case, all the vaults would have the same curve. But, in fact, they're all different.'

'Obviously they didn't re-use their formwork,' Elfric said irritably.

'Why wouldn't they?' Merthin persisted. 'They must have wanted to save on timber, not to mention the wages of skilled carpenters.'

'Anyway, it's not possible to build vaulting without formwork.'

'Yes, it is,' Merthin said. 'There's a method - '

'That's enough,' Elfric said. 'You're here to learn, not teach.'

Godwyn put in: 'Just a minute, Elfric. If the boy is right, it could save the priory a lot of money.' He looked at Merthin. 'What were you going to say?'

Merthin was half wishing he had not raised this subject. There would be hell to pay later. But he was committed now. If he backed off, they would think he did not know what he was talking about. 'It's described in a book in the monastery library, and it's very simple,' he said. 'As each stone is laid, a rope is draped over it. One end of the rope is tied to the wall, the other weighted with a lump of wood. The rope forms a right angle over the edge of the stone, and keeps it from slipping off its bed of mortar and falling to the ground.'

There was a moment of silence as they all concentrated, trying to visualize the arrangements. Then Thomas nodded. 'It could work,' he said.

Elfric looked furious.

Godwyn was intrigued. 'What book is this?'

'It's called
Timothy's Book
,' Merthin told him.

'I know of it, but I've never studied it. Obviously I should.' Godwyn addressed the others. 'Have we seen enough?'

Elfric and Thomas nodded. As the four men left the roof space, Elfric muttered to Merthin: 'Do you realize you've just talked yourself out of several weeks' work? You won't do that when you're your own master, I'll bet.'

Merthin had not thought of that. Elfric was right: by proving that formwork was unnecessary, he had also done himself out of a job. But there was something badly wrong with Elfric's way of thinking. It was unfair to allow someone to spend money unnecessarily, just to keep yourself in work. Merthin did not want to live by cheating people.

They went down the spiral staircase into the chancel. Elfric said to Godwyn: 'I'll come to you tomorrow with a price for the work.'

'Good.'

Elfric turned to Merthin. 'You stay here and count the stones in an aisle vault. Bring me the answer at home.'

'Yes.'

Elfric and Godwyn left, but Thomas lingered. 'I got you into trouble,' he said.

'You were trying to boost me.'

The monk shrugged and made a what-can-you-do gesture with his right arm. His left arm had been amputated at the elbow ten years ago, after infection set in to the wound he received in the fight Merthin had witnessed.

Merthin hardly ever thought about that strange scene in the forest - he had become used to Thomas in a monk's robe - but he recalled it now: the men-at-arms, the children hiding in the bush, the bow and arrow, the buried letter. Thomas was always kind to him, and he guessed it was because of what happened that day. 'I've never told anyone about that letter,' he said quietly.

'I know,' Thomas replied. 'If you had, you'd be dead.'

Most large towns were run by a guild merchant, an organization of the leading citizens. Under the guild merchant were numerous craft guilds, each dedicated to a particular trade: masons, carpenters, leather tanners, weavers, tailors. Then there were the parish guilds, small groups centered on local churches, formed to raise money for priestly robes and sacred ornaments, and for the support of widows and orphans.

Cathedral towns were different. Kingsbridge, like St. Albans and Bury St. Edmunds, was ruled by the monastery, which owned almost all the land in and around the town. The priors had always refused permission for a guild merchant. However, the most important craftsmen and traders belonged to the parish guild of St. Adolphus. No doubt this had started out, in the distant past, as a pious group that raised money for the cathedral, but it was now the most important organization in town. It made rules for the conduct of business, and elected an alderman and six wardens to enforce them. In the guildhall were kept the measures that standardized the weight of a woolsack, the width of a bolt of cloth, and the volume of a bushel for all Kingsbridge trade. Nevertheless, the merchants could not hold courts and dispense justice the way they did in borough towns - the Kingsbridge prior retained those powers for himself.

On the afternoon of Whitsunday, the parish guild gave a banquet at the guildhall for the most important visiting buyers. Edmund Wooler was the alderman, and Caris went with him to be hostess, so Merthin had to amuse himself without her.

Fortunately, Elfric and Alice were also at the banquet, so he could sit in the kitchen, listening to the rain and thinking. The weather was not cold, but there was a small fire for cooking, and its red glow was cheerful.

He could hear Elfric's daughter, Griselda, moving about upstairs. It was a fine house, although smaller than Edmund's. There was just a hall and a kitchen downstairs. The staircase led to an open landing, where Griselda slept, and a closed bedroom for the master and his wife. Merthin slept in the kitchen.

There had been a time, three or four years ago, when Merthin had been tormented at night by fantasies of climbing the stairs and slipping under the blankets next to Griselda's warm, plump body. But she considered herself superior to him, treating him like a servant, and she had never given him the least encouragement.

Sitting on a bench, Merthin looked into the fire and visualized the wooden scaffolding he would build for the masons who would reconstruct the collapsed vaulting in the cathedral. Wood was expensive, and long tree trunks were rare - the owners of woodland usually yielded to the temptation of selling the timber before it was fully mature. So builders tried to minimize the amount of scaffolding. Rather than build it up from floor level, they saved timber by suspending it from the existing walls.

While he was thinking, Griselda came into the kitchen and took a cup of ale from the barrel. 'Would you like some?' she said. Merthin accepted, amazed by her courtesy. She surprised him again by sitting on a stool opposite him to drink.

Griselda's paramour, Thurstan, had disappeared three weeks ago. No doubt she now felt lonely, which would be why she wanted Merthin's company. The drink warmed his stomach and relaxed him. Searching for something to say, he asked: 'What happened to Thurstan?'

She tossed her head like a frisky mare. 'I told him I didn't want to marry him.'

'Why not?'

'He's too young for me.'

That did not sound right to Merthin. Thurstan was seventeen, Griselda twenty, but Griselda was not notably mature. More likely, he thought, Thurstan was too low-class. He had arrived in Kingsbridge from nowhere a couple of years ago and had worked as an unskilled laborer for several of the town's craftsmen. He had probably got bored, with Griselda or with Kingsbridge, and simply moved on.

'Where did he go?'

'I don't know, and I don't care. I should marry someone my own age, someone with a sense of responsibility - perhaps a man who could take over my father's enterprise one day.'

It occurred to Merthin that she might mean him. Surely not, he thought; she's always looked down on me. Then she got up from her stool and came and sat on the bench beside him.

'My father is spiteful to you,' she said. 'I've always thought that.'

Merthin was astonished. 'Well, it's taken you long enough to say so - I've been living here six and a half years.'

'It's hard for me to go against my family.'

'Why is he so vile to me, anyway?'

'Because you think you know better than him, and you can't hide it.'

'Maybe I do know better.'

'See what I mean?'

He laughed. It was the first time she had ever made him laugh.

She shifted closer on the bench, so that her thigh in the woolen dress was pressed against his. He was in his worn linen shirt, which came to mid-thigh, with the undershorts that all men wore, but he could feel the warmth of her body through their clothes. What had brought this on? He looked incredulously at her. She had glossy dark hair and brown eyes. Her face was attractive in a fleshy way. She had a nice mouth for kissing.