The Pillars of the Earth (78 page)

The split had been patched up, but King Stephen was no longer eager to hear the petitions of holy men, so Philip had to wait. He used the opportunity to meditate. It was something he had little time for as prior, and he missed it. Now, suddenly, he had nothing to do for hours on end, and he spent the time lost in thought.

Eventually the other courtiers left a space around him, making him quite conspicuous, and it must have been increasingly difficult for Stephen to ignore him. He was deep in contemplation of the sublime mystery of the Trinity on the morning of his seventh day in Lincoln when he realized that someone was standing right in front of him, looking at him and speaking to him, and that person was the king.

“Are you asleep with your eyes open, man?” Stephen was saying in a tone halfway between amusement and irritation.

“I’m sorry, lord, I was thinking,” Philip said, and bowed belatedly.

“Never mind. I want to borrow your clothes.”

“What?” Philip was too surprised to mind his manners.

“I want to take a look around the castle, and if I’m dressed as a monk they won’t shoot arrows at me. Come on—go into one of the chapels and take off your robe.”

Philip had only an undershirt on beneath his robe. “But, lord, what shall I wear?”

“I forget how modest you monks are.” Stephen clicked his fingers at a young knight. “Robert—lend me your tunic, quick.”

The knight, who was talking to a girl, took off his tunic with a swift motion, gave it to the king with a bow, then made a vulgar gesture to the girl. His friends laughed and cheered.

King Stephen gave the tunic to Philip.

Philip slipped into the tiny chapel of St. Dunstan, asked the saint’s pardon with a hasty prayer, then took off his habit and put on the knight’s short-skirted scarlet tunic. It seemed very strange indeed: he had been wearing monastic clothing since the age of six, and he could not have felt more odd if he had been dressed as a woman. He emerged and handed his monkish robe to Stephen, who pulled it over his head swiftly.

Then the king astonished him by saying: “Come with me, if you like. You can tell me about Kingsbridge Cathedral.”

Philip was taken aback. His first instinct was to refuse. A sentry on the castle ramparts might be tempted to take a shot at him, and he would not be protected by religious garments. But he was being offered an opportunity to be totally alone with the king, with plenty of time to explain about the quarry and the market. He might never get another chance like this.

Stephen picked up his own cloak, which was purple with white fur at the collar and hem. “Wear this,” he said to Philip. “You’ll draw their fire away from me.”

The other courtiers had gone quiet, watching, wondering what would happen.

The king was making a point, Philip realized. He was saying that Philip had no business here in an armed camp, and could not expect to be granted privileges at the expense of men who risked their lives for the king. This was not unfair. But Philip knew that if he accepted this point of view he might as well go home and give up all hope of repossessing the quarry or reopening the market. He had to accept the challenge. He drew a deep breath and said: “Perhaps it is God’s will that I should die to save the king.” Then he took the purple cloak and put it on.

There was a murmur of surprise from the crowd; and King Stephen himself looked quite startled. Everyone had expected Philip to back down. Almost immediately he wished he had. But he had committed himself now.

Stephen turned and walked toward the north door. Philip followed him. Several courtiers made to go with them, but Stephen waved them back, saying: “Even a monk might attract suspicion if he is attended by the entire royal court.” He pulled the cowl of Philip’s robe over his head and they passed out into the graveyard.

Philip’s costly cloak drew curious glances as they picked their way across the campsite: men assumed he was a baron and were puzzled not to recognize him. The glances made him feel guilty, as if he were some kind of impostor. Nobody looked at Stephen.

They did not go directly to the main gate of the castle, but made their way through a maze of narrow lanes and came out by the church of St.-Paul-in-the-Bail, across from the northeast corner of the castle. The castle walls were built on top of massive earth ramparts and surrounded by a dry moat. There was a swath of open space fifty yards wide between the edge of the moat and the nearest buildings. Stephen stepped onto the grass and began to walk west, studying the north wall of the castle, staying close to the backs of the houses on the outer rim of the cleared area. Philip went with him. Stephen made Philip walk on his left, between him and the castle. The open space was there to give bowmen a clear shot at anyone who approached the walls, of course. Philip was not afraid to die but he was afraid of pain, and the thought uppermost in his mind was how much an arrow would
hurt
.

“Scared, Philip?” said Stephen.

“Terrified,” Philip replied candidly; and then, made reckless by fear, he added cheekily: “How about you?”

The king laughed at his nerve. “A little,” he admitted.

Philip remembered that this was his chance to talk about the cathedral. But he could not concentrate while his life was in such peril. His eyes went constantly to the castle, and he raked the ramparts, watching for a man drawing a bow.

The castle occupied the entire southwest corner of the inner city, its west wall being part of the city wall, so to walk all the way around it one had to go out of the city. Stephen led Philip through the west gate, and they passed out into the suburb called Newland. Here the houses were like peasant hovels, made of wattle-and-daub, with large gardens such as village houses had. A bitter cold wind whipped across the open fields beyond the houses. Stephen turned south, still skirting the castle. He pointed to a little door in the castle wall. “That’s where Ranulf of Chester sneaked out to make his escape when I took the city, I suspect,” he said.

Philip was less frightened here. There were other people on the pathway, and the ramparts on this side were less heavily guarded, for the occupants of the castle were afraid of an attack from the city, not from the countryside. Philip took a deep breath and then blurted out: “If I am killed, will you give Kingsbridge a market and make William Hamleigh give back the quarry?”

Stephen did not answer immediately. They walked downhill to the southwest corner of the castle and looked up at the keep. From their position it appeared loftily impregnable. Just below that corner they turned into another gateway and entered the lower city to walk along the castle’s south side. Philip felt in danger again. It would not be too difficult for someone inside the castle to deduce that the two men who were making a circuit of the walls must be on a scouting expedition, and therefore they were fair game, especially the one in the purple cloak. To distract himself from his fear he studied the keep. There were small holes in the wall which served as outlets for the latrines, and the refuse and filth which was washed out simply fell on the walls and the mound below and stayed there until it rotted away. No wonder there was a stink. Philip tried not to breathe too deeply, and they hurried past.

There was another, smaller tower at the southeast corner. Now Philip and Stephen had walked around three sides of the square. Philip wondered if Stephen had forgotten his question. He was apprehensive about asking it again. The king might feel he was being pushed, and take offense.

They reached the main street that went through the middle of the town and turned again, but before Philip had time to feel relieved they passed through another gate into the inner city, and a few moments later they were in the no-man’s-land between cathedral and castle. To Philip’s horror the king stopped there.

He turned to talk to Philip, positioning himself in such a way that he could scrutinize the castle over Philip’s shoulder. Philip’s vulnerable back, clad in ermine and purple, was exposed to the gatehouse which was bristling with sentries and archers. He went as stiff as a statue, expecting an arrow or a spear in his back at any moment. He began to perspire despite the freezing cold wind.

“I gave you that quarry years ago, didn’t I?” said King
Stephen.

“Not exactly,” Philip replied through gritted teeth. “You gave us the right to take stone for the cathedral. But you gave the quarry to Percy Hamleigh. Now Percy’s son, William, has thrown out my stonecutters, killing five people—including a woman and a child—and he refuses us access.”

“He shouldn’t do things like that, especially if he wants me to make him earl of Shiring,” Stephen said thoughtfully. Philip was encouraged. But a moment later the king said: “I’m damned if I can see a way to get into this castle.”

“Please make William reopen the quarry,” Philip said. “He is defying you and stealing from God.”

Stephen seemed not to hear. “I don’t think they’ve got many men in there,” he said in the same musing tone. “I suspect nearly all of them are on the ramparts, to make a show of strength. What was that about a market?”

This was all part of the test, Philip decided; making him stand out in the open with his back to a host of archers. He wiped his brow with the fur cuff of the king’s cloak. “My lord king, every Sunday people come from all over the county to worship at Kingsbridge and labor, for no wages, on the cathedral building site. When we first began, a few enterprising men and women would come to the site and sell meat pies, and wine, and hats, and knives, to the volunteer workers. So, gradually, a market grew up. And now I am asking you to license it.”

“Will you pay for your license?”

A payment was normal, Philip knew, but he also knew that it might be waived for a religious body. “Yes, lord, I will pay—unless you would wish to give us the license without payment, for the greater glory of God.”

Stephen looked directly into Philip’s eyes for the first time. “You’re a brave man, to stand there, with the enemy behind you, and bargain with me.”

Philip gave back an equally frank stare. “If God decides my life is over, nothing can save me,” he said, sounding braver than he felt. “But if God wants me to live on and build Kingsbridge Cathedral, ten thousand archers cannot strike me down.”

“Well said!” Stephen remarked, and, clapping a hand on Philip’s shoulder, he turned toward the cathedral. Weak with relief, Philip walked beside him, feeling better for every step away from the castle. He seemed to have passed the test. But it was important to get an unambiguous commitment from the king. Any moment now he would be engulfed by courtiers again. As they passed through the line of sentries, Philip took his courage in both hands and said: “My lord king, if you would write a letter to the sheriff of Shiring—”

He was interrupted. One of the earls rushed up, looking flustered, and said: “Robert of Gloucester is on his way here, my lord king.”

“What? How far away?”

“Close. A day at most—”

“Why haven’t I been warned? I posted men all around!”

“They came by the Fosse Way, then turned off the road to approach across open country.”

“Who is with him?”

“All the earls and knights on his side who have lost their lands in the last two years. Ranulf of Chester is also with him—”

“Of course. Treacherous dog.”

“He has brought all his knights from Chester, plus a horde of wild rapacious Welshmen.”

“How many men altogether?”

“About a thousand.”

“Damn—that’s a hundred more than we have.”

By this time several barons had gathered around, and now another one spoke. “Lord, if he’s coming across open country, he’ll have to cross the river at the ford—”

“Good thinking, Edward!” Stephen said. “Take your men down to that ford and see if you can hold it. You’ll need archers, too.”

“How far are they now, does anybody know?” asked Edward.

The first earl said: “Very close, the scout said. They could reach the ford before you.”

“I’ll go right away,” Edward said.

“Good man!” said King Stephen. He made a fist with his right hand and punched his left palm. “I shall meet Robert of Gloucester on the battlefield at last. I wish I had more men. Still—an advantage of a hundred men isn’t much.”

Philip listened to it all in grim silence. He was sure he had been on the point of getting Stephen’s agreement. Now the king’s mind was elsewhere. But Philip was not ready to give up. He was still wearing the king’s purple robe. He slipped it off his shoulders and held it out, saying: “Perhaps we should both revert to type, my lord king.”

Stephen nodded absently. A courtier stepped behind the king and helped him take off the monkish habit. Philip handed over the royal robe and said: “Lord, you seemed well disposed to my request.”

Stephen looked irritated to be reminded. He shrugged on his robe and was about to speak when a new voice was heard.

“My lord king!”

Philip recognized the voice. His heart sank. He turned and saw William Hamleigh.

“William, my boy!” said the king, in the hearty voice he used with fighting men. “You’ve arrived just in time!”

William bowed and said: “My lord, I’ve brought fifty knights and two hundred men from my earldom.”

Philip’s hopes turned to dust.

Stephen was visibly delighted. “What a good man you are!” he said warmly. “That gives us the advantage over the enemy!” He put his arm around William’s shoulders and walked with him into the cathedral.

Philip stood where he was and watched them go. He had been agonizingly close to success, but in the end William’s army had counted for more than justice, he thought bitterly. The courtier who had helped the king take off the monk’s habit now held the robe out to Philip. Philip took it. The courtier followed the king and his entourage into the cathedral. Philip put on his monastic robe. He was deeply disappointed. He looked at the three huge arched doorways of the cathedral. He had hoped to build archways like that at Kingsbridge. But King Stephen had taken the side of William Hamleigh. The king had been faced with a straight choice: the justice of Philip’s case against the advantage of William’s army. He had failed his test.