The Pillars of the Earth (61 page)

As they talked, Aliena felt as if she had been carrying a heavy weight for miles, and had not noticed the pain in her back until she put the burden down. Now that Father was taking charge, it seemed to her that the responsibility of the last few days had been far too much for her to bear. And his authority and ability to control the situation, even when he was sick in jail, gave her comfort and took the edge off her sorrow, for it seemed unnecessary to worry about the person who was in charge.

Now he became even more magisterial. “Before you leave me, I want you both to swear an oath.”

Aliena was shocked. He had always counseled against oath-taking.
To swear an oath is to put your soul at risk
,
he would say.
Never take an oath unless you’re sure you would rather die than break it
.
And he was here because of an oath: the other barons had broken their word and accepted Stephen as king, but Papa had refused. He would rather die than break his oath, and here he was dying.

“Give me your sword,” he said to Richard.

Richard drew his sword and handed it over.

Father took it and reversed it, holding out the hilt. “Kneel down.”

Richard knelt in front of Father.

“Put your hand on the hilt.” Father paused, as if gathering his strength; then his voice rang out like a peal of bells. “Swear by Almighty God, and Jesus Christ, and all the saints, that you will not rest until you are earl of Shiring and lord of all the lands I ruled.”

Aliena was surprised and somewhat awestruck. She had expected Father to demand some general promise, such as to tell the truth always and fear God; but no, he was giving Richard a very specific task, one that might take a lifetime.

Richard took a deep breath and spoke with a shake in his voice. “I swear by Almighty God, and Jesus Christ, and all the saints, that I will not rest until I am earl of Shiring, and lord of all the lands you ruled.”

Papa sighed, as if he had completed an onerous task. Then he surprised Aliena again. He turned and proffered the hilt of the sword to her. “Swear by Almighty God, and Jesus Christ, and all the saints, that you will take care of your brother Richard until he has fulfilled his vow.”

A sense of doom swamped Aliena. This was to be their fate, then: Richard would avenge Father, and she would take care of Richard. For her it would be a mission of revenge, for if Richard became earl, William Hamleigh would lose his inheritance. It flashed across her mind that no one had asked
her
how she wanted to spend her life; but the foolish thought was gone as fast as it came. This was her destiny, and it was a fit and proper one. She was not unwilling, but she knew this was a fateful moment, and she had a sense of doors closing behind her and the path of her life being fixed irrevocably. She put her hand on the hilt of the sword and took the oath. Her voice surprised her by its strength and resolution. “I swear by Almighty God, and Jesus Christ, and all the saints, that I will take care of my brother Richard until he has fulfilled his vow.” She crossed herself. It was done. I’ve sworn an oath, she thought, and I must die rather than break my word. The thought gave her a kind of angry satisfaction.

“There,” Father said, and his voice sounded weak again. “Now you need never come to this place again.”

Aliena could not believe he meant it. “Uncle Simon can bring us to see you now and again, and we can make sure you’re warm and fed—”

“No,” he said sternly. “You have a task to fulfill. You’re not going to waste your energies visiting a jail.”

She heard that don’t-argue note in his voice again, but she could not help protesting against the harshness of his decision. “Then let us come again just once, to bring you a few comforts!”

“I want no comforts.”

“Please ...”

“Never.”

She gave up. He was always at least as hard on himself as he was on everyone else. “Very well,” she said, and it came out in a sob.

“Now you’d better go,” he said.

“Already?”

“Yes. This is a place of despair and corruption and death. Now that I’ve seen you, and I know you’re well, and you’ve promised to rebuild what we have lost, I’m content. The only thing that could destroy my happiness would be to see you wasting your time visiting a jailhouse. Now go.”

“Papa, no!” she protested, although she knew it was no use.

“Listen,” he said, and his voice softened at last. “I’ve lived an honorable life, and now I’m going to die. I’ve confessed my sins. I’m ready for eternity. Pray for my soul. Go.”

Aliena leaned forward and kissed his brow. Her tears fell freely on his face. “Goodbye, Father dear,” she whispered. She got to her feet.

Richard bent down and kissed him. “Goodbye, Father,” he said unsteadily.

“May God bless you both, and help you keep your vows,” Father said.

Richard left him the candle. They went to the door. At the threshold Aliena turned and looked back at him in the unsteady light. His fleshless face was set in an expression of calm determination that was very familiar. She looked at him until tears obscured her vision. Then she turned away, went through the lobby of the jailhouse, and stumbled out into the open air.

Richard led the way. Aliena was stunned with grief. It was as if Father had already died; but it was worse, for he was still suffering. She heard Richard asking for directions but she paid no attention. She gave no thought to where they were going until he stopped outside a small wooden church with a lean-to hovel beside it. Looking around, Aliena saw that they were in a poor district of small tumbledown houses and filthy streets in which fierce dogs chased rats through the refuse and barefoot children played in the mud. “This must be St. Michael’s,” Richard said.

The lean-to at the side of the church had to be the priest’s house. It had one shuttered window. The door stood open. They went in.

There was a fire in the middle of the single room. The place was furnished with a roughhewn table, a few stools, and a beer barrel in the corner. The floor was strewn with rushes. Near the fire a man sat on a chair drinking from a large cup. He was a small, thin man of about fifty years, with a red nose and wispy gray hair. He wore ordinary everyday clothes, a dirty undershirt with a brown tunic, and clogs.

“Father Ralph?” said Richard dubiously.

“What if I am?” he replied.

Aliena sighed. Why did people manufacture trouble when there was already so much of it in the world? But she had no energy left for dealing with bad temper, so she left it to Richard, who said: “Does that mean yes?”

The question was answered for them. A voice from outside called: “Ralph? Are you in?” A moment later a middle-aged woman came in and gave the priest a hunk of bread and a large bowl of something that smelled like meat stew. For once the smell of meat did not make Aliena’s mouth water: she was too numb even to be hungry. The woman was probably one of Ralph’s parishioners, for her clothes were of the same poor quality as his own. He took the food from her without a word and began to eat. She glanced incuriously at Aliena and Richard and went out again.

Richard said: “Well,
Father
Ralph, I am the son of Bartholomew, the former earl of Shiring.”

The man paused in his eating and looked up at them. There was hostility in his face, and something else Aliena could not read—fear? Guilt? He returned his attention to his dinner, but mumbled: “What do you want with me?”

Aliena felt a tug of fear.

“You know what I want,” Richard said. “My money. Fifty bezants.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ralph said.

Aliena stared at him incredulously. This could not be happening. Father had left money for them with this priest—he had said so! Father did not make mistakes about such things.

Richard had gone white. He said: “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now piss off.” He took another spoonful of stew.

The man was lying, of course; but what could they do about it? Richard pressed on stubbornly. “My father left money with you—fifty bezants. He told you to give it to me. Where is it?”

“Your father gave me nothing.”

“He said he did—”

“He lied, then.”

That was one thing you could be sure Father had not done. Aliena spoke for the first time. “You’re the liar, and we know it.”

Ralph shrugged. “Complain to the sheriff.”

“You’ll be in trouble if we do. They cut off the hands of thieves in this city.”

The shadow of fear briefly crossed the priest’s face, but it was gone in a moment, and his reply was defiant. “It will be my word against the word of a jailed traitor—if your father lives long enough to give evidence.”

Aliena realized he was right. There would be no independent witnesses to say that Father had given him the money, for the whole idea was that it was a secret, money that could not be taken away by the king or Percy Hamleigh or any of the other carrion crows who flocked around the possessions of a ruined man. Things were just as they had been in the forest, Aliena realized bitterly. People could rob her and Richard with impunity, because they were the children of a fallen noble. Why am I frightened of these men? she asked herself angrily. Why aren’t they frightened of me?

Richard looked at her and said in a low voice: “He’s right, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” she said venomously. “There’s no point in our complaining to the sheriff.” She was thinking of the one time men had been afraid of her: in the forest, when she had stabbed the fat outlaw, and the other one had run away in fear. This priest was no better than the outlaw. But he was old and quite feeble, and he had probably counted on never having to face his victims. Perhaps he could be frightened.

Richard said: “What shall we do, then?”

Aliena gave in to a sudden furious impulse. “Burn down his house,” she said. She stepped to the middle of the room and kicked the fire with her wooden clogs, scattering burning logs. The rushes around the fireplace caught immediately.

“Hey!” Ralph yelled. He half rose from his seat, dropping his bread and spilling the stew in his lap; but before he could get to his feet Aliena was on him. She felt completely out of control; she acted without thinking. She pushed him, and he slipped off the chair and tumbled to the floor. She was astonished at how easy it was to knock him down. She fell on him, landing with her knees on his chest and winding him. Mad with rage, she thrust her face close to his and screamed: “You lying thieving godless heathen, I’m going to burn you to death!”

His eyes flicked to one side and he looked even more terrified. Following his glance, Aliena saw that Richard had drawn his sword and was holding it ready to strike. The priest’s dirty face went pale, and he whispered: “You’re a devil. ...”

“You’re the one who steals money from poor children!” Out of the corner of her eye she saw a stick with one end burning brightly. She picked it up and held the hot end close to his face. “Now I’m going to burn out your eyes, one by one. First the left eye—”

“No, please,” he whispered. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Aliena was thrown by the rapidity with which he crumbled. She realized that the rushes were burning all around her. “Where’s the money, then?” she said in a voice which suddenly sounded normal.

The priest was still terrified. “In the church.”

“Where exactly?”

“Under the stone behind the altar.”

Aliena looked up at Richard. “Guard him while I go and look,” she said. “If he moves, kill him.”

Richard said: “Allie, the house will burn down.”

Aliena went to the corner and lifted the lid of the barrel. It was half full of beer. She grasped the rim and pulled it over. Beer flowed all over the floor, soaking the rushes and putting out the flames.

Aliena walked out of the house. She knew she really had been ready to put out the priest’s eyes, but instead of feeling ashamed she was overwhelmed by a sense of her own power. She had resolved not to let people make her a victim, and she had proved she could keep her resolution. She strode up to the front of the church and tried the door. It was fastened with a small lock. She could have gone back to the priest for the key, but instead she drew the dagger from her sleeve, inserted the blade in the crack of the door, and broke the lock. The door swung open and she marched inside.

It was the poorest kind of church. There was no furniture other than the altar and no decoration except for some crude paintings on the limewashed wood of the walls. In one corner, a single candle flickered beneath a small wooden effigy which presumably represented Saint Michael. Aliena’s triumph was disturbed for a moment by the realization that five pounds presented a terrible temptation to a man as poor as Father Ralph. Then she put sympathy out of her mind.

The floor was earth but there was a single large stone slab behind the altar. It made a rather obvious hiding place, but of course no one would bother to rob a church as visibly poor as this. Aliena went down on one knee and pushed the stone. It was very heavy and did not move. She began to feel anxious. Richard could not be relied upon to keep Ralph quiet indefinitely. The priest might get away and call for help, and then Aliena would have to prove that the money was hers. Indeed, that might be the least of her worries now that she had attacked a priest and broken into a church. She felt a chill of anxiety as she realized that she was on the wrong side of the law now.

That frisson of fear gave her extra strength. With a mighty heave she moved the stone an inch or two. It covered a hole about a foot deep. She managed to move the stone a little farther. Inside the hole was a wide leather belt. She put her hand in and drew the belt out.

“There!” she said aloud. “I’ve got it.” It gave her great satisfaction to think that she had defeated the dishonest priest and retrieved her father’s money. Then, as she stood up, she realized that her victory was qualified: the belt felt suspiciously light. She unfastened the end and tipped out the coins. There were only ten of them. Ten bezants were worth a pound of silver.

What had happened to the rest? Father Ralph had spent it! She became enraged again. Her father’s money was all she had in the world and a thieving priest had taken four fifths of it. She marched out of the church, swinging the belt. On the street, a passerby looked startled when he caught her eye, as if there was something odd about her expression. She took no notice and went into the priest’s house.