Where the Stones Sing (2 page)

‘Indeed he does,' Ned Breakwater answered. ‘My
children 
are both scholars. I have taught them well, despite our travelling life.'

The children grimaced. They wondered what their father would say if he was asked about their teacher, Gilbert. He certainly would not mention that Gilbert had been an
ex-monk
. Gilbert had left his monastery in disgrace after dipping into the altar wine one too many times. But he had not left empty handed; he had taken some of the monastery's
treasures
with him. After he had used up all his ill-gotten gains, he had made a new career for himself from selling fake holy relics. The Breakwater family had teamed up with Gilbert on the road to Wexford and he had travelled with them. He had taught the children Latin in exchange for a share in their food.

Now the lady said, ‘And what of the child's mother? We should speak to her. Will she not have something to say?'

Ned sighed. ‘That fair lady is dead these many long years,' he said. ‘But I think – can you excuse me awhile? – I must take my son away for a few moments to discuss this idea with him. We will not be long.'

The lady smiled. ‘We have time. We will wait here until you come back with your decision. But I would not
willingly
take a child from his father if he does not wish to go,' continued the lady. ‘That would not serve God in any good way.'

She placed her hand gently on Kai's shoulder. ‘Child, you
must come to the cathedral of your own free will, or not at all. But I think you will find that the monks are kind and you will be warm and fed through all the coming winter months.'

She cast a glance at the thin, ragged clothes that Kai was wearing, but said no more.

Kai, dragged unceremoniously away by Ned, whispered fiercely, ‘Pa, I cannot do it, you know that I cannot.'

‘I know nothing of the kind. This is a most wonderful opportunity to get into the priory. Stay there a couple of months and you'll hear a whistle at your window in the night. Then you can let your dear old pa in. I'm sure the holy canons have good pickings in their treasure house … chests upon chests of gold and silver!'

As always, it was impossible to tell if Ned Breakwater was joking or serious. He was a trickster, not a thief, but Kai never really knew what he might decide to do next. But this must be the most dangerous trick he had ever tried to play. And Kai did not want to be part of it.

‘No, Father, no. They would be bound to find out.'

‘Now there is no need for you to shake your head at me like that. They will not find out, not if you are careful. As careful as I know you can be. They are all so innocent, these canons, they will suspect nothing. And you will be safe and sheltered there. It won't be for long, in any case. Then I will send you a message and we can be off on a boat to Wales
before the canons have woken from their godly slumbers.'

There was another fierce shake of the head from Kai.

‘There is no way it can work. We are sure to be caught. And anyway I'm not going to let you in to steal their things, the fat monk was nice. And the lady was lovely.'

Ned Breakwater shrugged.

‘Then it's off out onto the road again tomorrow, for I have not a penny left and I think I dare not play dice in this town again. How will that be with you?'

Kai's face dropped. To be on the road again with no money in their pockets was a horrible thought. A sharp wind blew up from the Liffey and Kai remembered that winter was on the way. Last winter had been very bad, with weeks of snow and ice. The priory would indeed be warm and dry. And the choir boys had looked well fed and happy – well, all of them except Roland. But Roland, the boy who had started the fight, seemed to be somebody who rarely looked happy, no matter how kind people were to him. Kai made a decision.

‘Very well then. I'll go with them. But Pa, I'm not going to let you in to rob their treasure. And if they find out my secret, you must come and get me, right away. Do you promise me that?'

‘If they do find out your secret, I promise you I will come to you, though the demons of Hell bar the way. I give my word to you, child. Nothing will stop me. Send a message through Ymna, her people will be able to find me. Now, let's
go back and tell them what we have decided.'

Roland looked dismayed when they returned and broke the news that Kai was to go to the priory. Edward too had a worried look on his face. But the canon and Dame Maria were delighted. Dame Maria said, ‘Come back with me to my house. I live not far from here, though outside the gates. It's down by the river near the hospital of St John the Baptist. We will clean you up and find you some warm clothes,
something
to wear under the priory tunic and cloak. Then you will be fit to make your introductions to the prior.

‘Brother Albert, will you go ahead and make a place ready for the child? And you Kai, I will leave you for a moment to say your farewells to your father and brother, and you can catch up with me. Just go westwards through the New Gate and along St Thomas's Street.'

No sooner had she left them than Edward turned to Ned and said fiercely, ‘What in Beelzebub's name have you done now? What plot are you brewing? Can you not imagine what trouble there will be if they find out?'

Ned shrugged his shoulders and laughed. ‘But they won't, for my little kitten is a wonderful actor, are you not, Kai?'

The children looked at each other. Their father was always like this: teasing, laughing, making everything a joke. Always asking his children if they did not want to have an adventure. Most days, Edward and Kai answered with a decisive
No
. An adventure was very often the last thing they wanted to
have, especially if it involved being cold and hungry. ‘Having an adventure' sometimes meant midnight flights from
farm-houses
and inns, and hiding in barns during the day so they would not be caught by the angry men their father had tricked. At other times it involved getting stuck half way through windows or explaining to disgruntled ladies that their father's magic potions did not always work. What both children wanted more than anything else was to live like other people, in a house, with four solid walls. To see the same thing day after day. To be bored, rather than cold and hungry and frightened, rather than constantly having to live on their wits.

And yet they both loved their father. Everyone loved their father. He was funny and loving and clever, and would do anything for them: spending his last pennies on a toy or a sweetmeat for them, and doing his best to make sure that they were kept safe in the rough life they lived. Now Kai took Edward's hand.

‘Brother, listen, it will be only for a short time. And you know that things have been very hard, lately. If you want to stay in Dublin, whatever the monks give me to eat, I'll keep part of it, and will meet you here to share it.'

Edward shook his head. ‘No, if you are safe in the priory, I have my own ideas about what I want to do. Now I will be able to follow my own road. I – I have been offered work, father, an apprenticeship with Giles the stonemason, here in
Dublin. Do you remember the last time we were here; I went down to his yard? This time I went down again, and tried my hand at working a piece of stone. And he says I have a real gift, and he would be happy to teach me. There is always work for a mason, he says. But I did not say anything, because I could not leave the two of you alone. But now Kai will be in Dublin, so I will stay too.'

It was not often Ned Breakwater looked taken aback, but now even he looked as if he thought things might be moving too fast for him.

‘Good Lord, a child of mine a respectable craftsman, and another in the bosom of the church – who would have thought it? Though your mother's people were masons, so perhaps it is the blood from that side of the family that has come out …'

‘I thought you said to the lady that our mother was descended from Lord Kai of the court of King Arthur,' said Kai.

Ned Breakwater grinned. So did Kai.

‘Tch, him too, of course. We all have a great many
ancestors
. Hard to keep track, really. And as they say, “When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then a gentleman?” Or some such words … Well, it seems that you have made up your mind and there is little I can do about it. And I am glad you are here to keep an eye on Kai, Edward. Now Kai, get you gone as fast as you can after Dame Maria, in case
she should change her mind. And have a good look around her house for me while you are there.'

‘I told you I wasn't going to open any locks for you,' was the response, and then Kai took off at a run towards the New Gate.

Edward looked at Ned Breakwater. Even though he knew that his father loved to live on the edge of danger, he could not believe that he had agreed to this masquerade.

‘Pa, Pa,' he said, ‘of all the mad things you have ever done, this is the maddest. Have you any idea of the trouble we will all be in if the canons find out that their new choirboy is a girl?'

His father did not reply, but the gull, making his way back towards the river, gave a mocking cry into the east wind. The sun was
beginning
to sink in the west. Down below him, Dubliners prepared for night. From above, the city was a toy, neatly boxed in by the sea to the east and the mountains to the south. East was where strangers from the sea had come, century after century; and in the mountains to the south the wild Irish lived. Dubliners said that they ate their young. To the north, the great river formed another boundary.
Dominating
all were the castle and the cathedral. Guards patrolled the battlements of the castle, and the towers dotted along the city walls. As he flew by Wood Quay, the gull swept down to take a closer look at something. Among the ships docked there, he noticed a family of rats run deftly along a rope that tied one of the boats to the moorings. They were black rats, and the gull decided against trying to catch one. Rats were savage creatures, best left alone.

Dame Maria

ai made her way westwards, hurrying through the narrow streets as best she could while avoiding the waste from the city horses, dogs and pigs that littered her path. She was nervous as to what might be in store for her in Dame Maria’s house. A bath meant taking her clothes off. It might also mean the end of this masquerade before it had even begun.

Meanwhile, Brother Albert led the three boys up the hill and through the western gate of the priory. They were silent now as the little monk continued to scold them.

‘Really boys, I don’t know what Dame Maria must be thinking. I am only glad you were not seen by anyone else, brawling in the streets. It would have brought such disgrace to the priory. Now, go and clean yourselves up as much as you can before supper. I want you down in the refectory as soon as possible. We can’t have you keeping the
brothers
waiting. Hurry now. I don’t know what can be done about that nose, Roland, it’s turning an impressive shade of purple. Perhaps you had better come with me to the
infirmary
straight away, and we will see what we can do to bring down the swelling.’

Tom and Jack went to the wash house to clean themselves up as best they could with cold water and soap. In between flipping their washcloths at each other, they talked about the new addition to the choir.

‘So what do you think of the new boy?’ asked Tom.

Jack shrugged. ‘Hard to tell yet, but I think I like him. I like the way he took on Roland, didn’t put up with any of his old rubbish, and he’s a good fighter.’

‘I think there is something just a bit odd about him,’ said Tom. ‘But I can’t say what it is, exactly. He can certainly sing. And he does seem nice enough. And anyone who doesn’t like Roland is fine with me.’

Tom couldn’t stand Roland. Nor could Jack. They had joined in the fight with him on the principle that he was one of their own, and anyway why pass up a good scrap, but not out of any loyalty to him as a friend. He was not an easy person to get along with. Apart from anything else, he was a snob, and never missed an opportunity to let the two other boys know that he thought himself much better than they were.

Jack was an orphan. He had lived in the monastery almost all his life. He had been found as a baby, left at the gate of the city one night and discovered by the watchman. No one
knew where he came from, and the watchman, a man named Martin, had sold him to one of his friends, a woman who had used him when she went begging. People always gave more generously to a mother with a child. But the rest of the time she had neglected him, and Brother Albert had come upon him, dirty and crying, dressed in rags, sent out to beg alone when he was no more than three years old. The monks had taken the little boy in then, and looked after him ever since. Jack had only vague memories of the time before he lived in the priory. He loved the canons, the only family he had ever known, especially kind Brother Albert. But
sometimes
the quiet, ordered life drove him mad. He had grown into a boy full of life and mischief; full of the devil, as Brother Malcolm, one of the crankiest of the monks, put it sourly. He spent much of his time trying to escape the priory, hanging around the stables in the city, for he loved horses. If he was not there, he could be found wandering down to the river to where the ships were docked. Sometimes he would wander eastwards, going out as far as the sea. There he would spend hours chatting to the sailors and fishermen who plied their trades around the sloblands of the bay.

Tom, on the other hand, had only arrived at the
monastery
at the beginning of the summer. News had come to Brother Albert of the miller’s child who sang like an angel in the Hospitallers’ church in Kilmainham, the village to the west of the city. He had gone to hear him sing and had asked
Tom’s parents if they would agree to send him into the priory as a choirboy. Tom’s parents had been so proud of the honour to their child that Tom had not had the heart to tell them that he would have much preferred to stay at home. No one in the Oquoyne family had ever been brought to the great cathedral, or received an education beyond knowing how to weigh wheat and flour and count money. But Tom had loved his life with his noisy, cheerful family and he certainly didn’t want to be a monk. He particularly missed his little sister, Edith, who was only a year younger than he was. He just wanted to stay in Kilmainham and learn the miller’s trade like his father. But in the end, although he found life in the priory strange, it had not been as lonely as he had feared. Brother Albert was very kind and Jack was great fun. No one could complain about a quiet life with Jack around, showing his new friend the various ways to sneak out of the priory and explore what was going on in the city of Dublin.

Jack had been delighted to have someone he described as ‘normal’ come to the priory. Before that the only person of his own age in the priory had been Roland. When Roland had arrived in the priory just after Easter, he would hardly talk to Jack at all. And then, when he did start to talk, he drove Jack mad. He never stopped boasting about his father, who was somebody very important in the City Assembly. Roland was never clear about exactly what he did and the boys hadn’t even seen him yet. According to Roland he was
over in England, bringing important messages to the king. Neither Jack nor Tom could wait for him to come back and take his son away.

Now their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Brother Malcolm. He took hold of Jack’s ears and pulled him towards him, glaring into his face.

‘Come along, quickly now, you are late already. Really, Brother Albert is far too soft on ye. And what’s this I hear about you dragging poor Roland into trouble?’

Tom was so outraged by the unfairness of this, he could only stand with his mouth open. Jack, who had had years of experience when it came to Brother Malcolm, laughed. Brother Malcolm always defended Roland, because his father was rich and powerful, and like Roland, Brother Malcolm was a snob.

Jack said, ‘I don’t know what Roland has been telling you, but you it’s pure rubbish, Brother. Roland is well able to get into fights all by himself.’

‘Gross impudence and lying! We will see what the prior has to say about this!’

They made their way to the refectory, the great dining hall where everybody ate together, but luckily, Brother Albert had already spoken to the prior about their
evening’s
adventures. When Brother Malcolm began his
complaint
, Prior Robert merely raised his hand for silence and signed to the Kitchener, Brother Reynalph, to begin the
prayer the monks said before meals.

In most priories the choirboys ate separately, but in Christ Church there were only fifteen monks and it made less work and more sense for everyone to eat together. Also, Dame Maria had made it very clear that she wanted the children to be treated well. This meant that they ate what the canons did, not just the leftovers, as was the case in some priories. As the diet of the priory was quite bland and boring, Roland complained about the food constantly, and even Tom had to agree that it was nothing to get excited about: bread and weak ale, various types of soup, large quantities of salted fish or eels, peas and beans and onions and on feast days the treat of chicken or goose or some other fowl. Sometimes meat and sweet things could be seen being carried into the prior’s private rooms, but that was only when there were
important
visitors from the castle or from the archbishop’s palace coming to see him. Usually the prior dined at the top table in the refectory and ate what everyone else ate.

This evening, the meal was interrupted by the arrival of Brother Albert with the new choirboy. Kai was now looking much cleaner, though very tired. It had been a long day.

She had enjoyed her trip to Dame Maria’s house. She didn’t at all mind becoming a little grubby in pursuit of a good time, but she hated not being able to get clean again and her rags were filthy. After she had given a final hug to her father and Edward, she raced after Dame Maria. She had
caught up with her very quickly. As she reached her, she gave a final look back at the walls of the priory and the cathedral. Dame Maria’s eyes followed her look and she smiled.

‘Isn’t the cathedral wonderful?’ she said. ‘I love the way it stands on the hill over the river, looking as if it is on guard, watching the water and the hills in case danger comes to Dublin. It is our refuge, much more so even than the city walls or the castle. It will be wonderful for you to live there. And interesting. The prior is an important man in the city. Apart from the Archbishop, he is probably the most respected religious person in Dublin.’

‘And what about St Patrick’s?’ Kai had spent the earlier part of the day sitting against the wall of Dublin’s other cathedral. It lay down in the hollow on the southern side of the city walls, facing out towards the hills.

‘St Patrick’s is a godly, goodly church, but it is not as old or venerable as Holy Trinity; and it does not have its wonderful relics. You will see them soon. Or have you been inside the cathedral already?’

Kai shook her head. She had only sung outside the walls of the cathedral, never inside.

‘It’s a beautiful place. The High Altar is a work of such beauty! And there is the Talking Cross, and the Staff of Jesus, passed down by St Patrick, both great relics. Hundreds of pilgrims come to see them. The canons have chests of other relics stored in the crypt. And the relics of great St Laurence
himself are held there. Have you heard of him? He was the cathedral’s greatest archbishop.’

But Kai was more interested in the Talking Cross.

‘Does the cross really talk?’

Dame Maria nodded.

‘It has not done so for many years, but it has been said to cry out when a man told lies in front of it. You look doubtful. Do you not believe in miracles, child?’

Kai was not sure what to reply. She had seen Gilbert take a broken shoe and call it St Sylvester’s sandal, some old stones and call them the Tablets of Moses. She had seen her father perform many tricks in the marketplace, so that people would believe that these shoes and stones could cure illnesses. People had called them miracles. So she had her doubts about anything that was supposed to be magic or a miracle. Yet at the same time she had seen strange things that could not be explained. Some people, like Ymna, the washerwoman they stayed with when they visited the city, seemed to have special powers. She always seemed to know they were coming to visit her before they arrived. She stood silently, but luckily, Dame Maria was diverted by meeting an old friend and the subject was forgotten when they started on their journey again.

They went through the gate of the city, Dame Maria
nodding
and smiling at the guards as if she knew them well. Outside the walls the fair green was full of the noise and
smell of the sheep that were brought to market at the end of the summer. While they made their way through the sea of bleating, woolly faces and down past the abbeys of St Thomas and the hospital of St John the Baptist, Dame Maria chatted to her, explaining that her house had belonged to her husband. He had been a merchant who had died when their son had been just a baby.