World Without End (113 page)

He ignored that. 'Where is Prior Godwyn?'

'In his palace.'

'No, he's not!'

Archdeacon Lloyd explained: 'We've been there. The building is empty.'

'Really?'

'Yes,' the archdeacon said irritably. 'Really.'

At that moment, Caris spotted Godwyn's cat, with the distinctive white tip to its tail. The novices called it Archbishop. It walked across the west front of the cathedral and looked into the spaces between the pillars, as if searching for its master.

Caris was taken aback. 'How strange...Perhaps Godwyn decided to sleep in the dormitory with the other monks.'

'And why would he do that? I hope there's no impropriety going on.'

Caris shook her head dismissively. The bishop suspected unchastity, but Godwyn was not prone to that particular sin. 'He reacted badly when his mother caught the plague. He had some kind of fit and collapsed. She died today.'

'If he's been unwell I should have thought he was all the more likely to sleep in his own bed.'

Anything might have happened. Godwyn was slightly unhinged by Petranilla's illness. Caris said: 'Would the lord bishop like to speak to one of his deputies?'

Henri answered crossly: 'If I could find one, yes!'

'Perhaps if I take Archdeacon Lloyd to the dormitory...'

'As soon as you like!'

Lloyd got a torch from a servant, and Caris led him quickly through the cathedral into the cloisters. The place was silent, as monasteries generally were at this time of night. They reached the foot of the staircase that led up to the dormitory, and Caris stopped. 'You'd better go up alone,' she said. 'A nun should not see monks in bed.'

'Of course.' Lloyd went up the stairs with his torch, leaving her in darkness. She waited, curious. She heard him shout: 'Hello?' There was a strange silence. Then, after a few moments, he called down to her in an odd voice: 'Sister?'

'Yes?'

'You can come up.'

Mystified, she climbed the stairs and entered the dormitory. She stood beside Lloyd and peered into the room by the unsteady light of the burning torch. The monks' straw mattresses lay neatly in their places along either side of the room - but not one of them was occupied. 'There's no one here,' Caris said.

'Not a soul,' Lloyd agreed. 'What on earth has happened?'

'I don't know, but I can guess,' said Caris.

'Then enlighten me, please.'

'Isn't it obvious?' she said. 'They've run away.'

63

When Godwyn left, he took with him all the valuables from the monks' treasury and all the charters. This included the nuns' charters, which they had never succeeded in retrieving from his locked chest. He also took the sacred relics, including the bones of St. Adolphus in their priceless reliquary.

Caris discovered this on the morning afterward, the first day of January, the Feast of the Circumcision of Christ. She went with Bishop Henri and Sister Elizabeth to the treasury off the south transept. Henri's attitude to her was stiffly formal, which was worrying; but he was a peevish character, so perhaps he was like that with everyone.

The flayed skin of Gilbert Hereford was still nailed to the door, slowly turning hard and yellow, and giving off a faint but distinct whiff of rottenness.

But the door was not locked.

They went in. Caris had not been inside this room since Prior Godwyn stole the nuns' one hundred and fifty pounds to build his palace. After that they had built their own treasury.

It was immediately obvious what had happened. The flagstones that disguised the vaults in the floor had been lifted and not put back, and the lid of the ironbound chest stood open. Vaults and chest were empty.

Caris felt that her contempt for Godwyn was vindicated. A trained physician, a priest and the leader of the monks, he had fled just at the moment when the people needed him most. Now, surely, everyone would realize his true nature.

Archdeacon Lloyd was outraged. 'He took everything!'

Caris said to Henri: 'And this is the man who wanted you to annul my election.'

Bishop Henri grunted noncommittally.

Elizabeth was desperate to find an excuse for Godwyn's behavior. 'I'm sure the lord prior took the valuables with him for safekeeping.'

That stung the bishop into a response. 'Rubbish,' he said crisply. 'If your servant empties your purse and disappears without warning, he's not keeping your money safe, he's stealing it.'

Elizabeth tried a different tack. 'I believe this was Philemon's idea.'

'The subprior?' Henri looked scornful. 'Godwyn is in charge, not Philemon. Godwyn is responsible.'

Elizabeth shut up.

Godwyn must have recovered from the death of his mother, Caris thought, at least temporarily. It was quite an achievement to persuade every single one of the monks to follow him. She wondered where they had gone.

Bishop Henri was thinking the same thing. 'Where did the wretched cowards go?'

Caris remembered Merthin trying to persuade her to leave.
To Wales, or Ireland,
he had said.
A remote village where they don't see a stranger from one year to the next.
She said to the bishop: 'They will be hiding out in some isolated place where no one ever goes.'

'Find out exactly where,' he said.

Caris realized that all opposition to her election had vanished with Godwyn. She felt triumphant, and made an effort not to look too pleased. 'I'll make some inquiries in the town,' she said. 'Somebody must have seen them leave.'

'Good,' said the bishop. 'However, I don't think they're coming back soon, so in the meantime you're going to have to manage as best you can with no men. Continue the services as normally as possible with the nuns. Get a parish priest to come into the cathedral for mass, if you can find one still alive. You cannot perform the mass, but you can hear confessions - there has been a special dispensation from the archbishop, because so many clergymen have died.'

Caris was not going to let him slide past the question of her election. 'Are you confirming me as prioress?' she said.

'Of course,' he said irritably.

'In that case, before I accept the honor - '

'You have no decision to make, Mother Prioress,' he said indignantly. 'It is your duty to obey me.'

She wanted the post desperately, but she resolved to pretend otherwise. She was going to drive a hard bargain. 'We live in strange times, don't we?' she said. 'You've given nuns authority to hear confessions. You've shortened the training for priests, but you still can't ordain them fast enough to keep up with deaths from the plague, I hear.'

'Is it your intention to exploit the difficulties the church is facing for some purpose of your own?'

'No, but there is something you need to do to make it possible for me to carry out your instructions.'

Henri sighed. Clearly he did not like being spoken to in this way. But, as Caris had suspected, he needed her more than she needed him. 'Very well, what is it?'

'I want you to convene an ecclesiastical court and reopen my trial for witchcraft.'

'For heaven's sake, why?'

'To declare me innocent, of course. Until that happens, it could be difficult for me to exercise authority. Anyone who disagrees with my decisions can all too easily undermine me by pointing out that I stand condemned.'

The tidy secretarial mind of Archdeacon Lloyd liked that idea. 'It would be good to have the issue disposed of once and for all, my lord bishop.'

'Very well, then,' said Henri.

'Thank you.' She felt a surge of delight and relief, and bowed her head for fear that her triumph would show in her face. 'I will do my best to bring honor to the position of prioress of Kingsbridge.'

'Lose no time in inquiring after Godwyn. I'd like some kind of answer before I leave town.'

'The alderman of the parish guild is a crony of Godwyn's. He'll know where they've gone if anyone does. I'll go and see him.'

'Right away, please.'

Caris left. Bishop Henri was charmless, but he seemed competent, and she thought she could work with him. Perhaps he would be the kind of leader who made decisions based on the merits of the case, instead of siding with whomever he perceived as an ally. That would be a pleasant change.

Passing the Bell, she was tempted to go in and tell Merthin her good news. However, she thought she had better find Elfric first.

In the street in front of the Holly Bush she saw Duncan Dyer lying on the ground. His wife, Winnie, was sitting on the bench outside the tavern, crying. Caris thought the man must have been hurt, but Winnie said: 'He's drunk.'

Caris was shocked. 'It isn't even dinnertime yet!'

'His uncle, Peter Dyer, caught the plague and passed away. His wife and children died, too, so Duncan inherited all his money, and he just spends it on wine. I don't know what to do.'

'Let's get him home,' Caris said. 'I'll help you lift him.' They each took an arm and got Duncan to his feet. Holding him upright, they half-dragged him down the street to his house. They put him on the floor and covered him with a blanket. Winnie said: 'He's like this every day. He's says it's not worth working, because we're all going to die of the plague. What shall I do?'

Caris thought for a moment. 'Bury the money in the garden, now, while he's sleeping. When he wakes up, tell him he lost it all gambling with a chapman who left town.'

'I might do that,' Winnie said.

Caris crossed the street to Elfric's house and went inside. Her sister, Alice, was sitting in the kitchen sewing stockings. They had not been close since Alice married Elfric, and what little was left of their relationship had been destroyed by Elfric's testifying against Caris in the heresy trial. Forced to choose between sister and husband, Alice had been loyal to Elfric. Caris understood that, but it meant her sister had become like a stranger to her.

When Alice saw her, she stood up and dropped her sewing. 'What are you doing here?' she said.

'The monks have all disappeared,' Caris told her. 'They must have left in the night.'

'So that was what it was!' Alice said.

'Did you see them?'

'No, but I heard a whole crowd of men and horses. They weren't loud - in fact, now that I think of it, they must have been making an effort to be quiet - but you can't keep horses silent, and men make a noise just walking along the street. They woke me, but I didn't get up to see - it was too cold. Is that why you've entered my house for the first time in ten years?'

'You didn't know they were going to run off?'

'Is that what they've done, run off? Because of the plague?'

'I assume so.'

'Surely not. What's the use of physicians who flee from sickness?' Alice was troubled by this behavior on the part of her husband's patron. 'I can't understand it.'

'I was wondering if Elfric knew anything about it.'

'If he does, he hasn't told me.'

'Where will I find him?'

'St. Peter's. Rick Silvers left some money to the church, and the priest decided to pave the floor of the nave.'

'I'll go and ask him.' Caris wondered if she should make an attempt to be courteous. Alice had no children of her own, but she had a stepdaughter. 'How is Griselda?' Caris said.

'Very well and happy,' Alice said with a touch of defiance, as if she thought Caris might prefer to hear otherwise.

'And your grandson?' Caris could not bring herself to use the child's name, which was Merthin.

'Lovely. And another grandchild on the way.'

'I'm pleased for her.'

'Yes. It's just as well she didn't marry your Merthin, the way things have turned out.'

Caris refused to be drawn. 'I'll go and find Elfric.'

St. Peter's Church was at the western end of the town. As Caris was threading her way through the winding streets, she came upon two men fighting. They were shouting curses at one another and punching wildly. Two women, presumably their wives, were screeching abuse, while a small crowd of neighbors looked on. The door of the nearest house had been broken down. On the ground nearby was a cage made of twigs and rushes containing three live chickens.

Caris went up to the men and stepped between them. 'Stop it this instant,' she said. 'I command you in the name of God.'

They did not take much persuading. They had probably expended their wrath with the first few blows, and might even be grateful for an excuse to stop. They stepped back and dropped their arms.

'What's this about?' Caris demanded.

They both started speaking at once, and so did their wives.

'One at a time!' Caris said. She pointed at the larger of the two men, a dark-haired fellow whose good looks were spoiled by a swelling around his eye. 'You're Joe Blacksmith, aren't you? Explain.'

'I caught Toby Peterson stealing Jack Marrow's chickens. He broke down the door.'

Toby was a smaller man with a gamecock bravado. He spoke through bleeding lips. 'Jack Marrow owed me five shillings - I'm entitled to those chickens!'

Joe said: 'Jack and all his family died of the plague two weeks ago. I've been feeding his chickens ever since. They'd be dead but for me. If anyone should take them, it ought to be me.'