World Without End (78 page)

Caris felt she had to accept that: he seemed quite sure. She said: 'Who do you think we might approach?'

'There's only one real possibility,' he said. 'You.'

Caris was astonished. 'Me! Why?'

'You're the driving force behind the campaign for a borough charter. Your fiancé's bridge has saved the Fleece Fair, and your cloth business has pretty much rescued the town's prosperity after the wool slump. You're the child of the existing alderman and, although it's not an inherited office, people think leaders breed leaders. And they're right. You've actually been acting as alderman for almost a year, ever since your father's powers started to fail.'

'Has the town ever had a woman alderman?'

'Not as far as I know. Nor one as young as you. Both these things will count heavily against you. I'm not saying you're going to win. I'm telling you no one else has a better chance of beating Elfric.'

Caris had a faintly dizzy feeling. Was it possible? Could she do the job? What about her vow to become a healer? Were there not many other people in town who would be better than she as alderman? 'What about Mark Webber?' she said.

'He'd be good, especially with that shrewd wife of his at his side. But people in this town still think of Mark as a poor weaver.'

'He's prosperous now.'

'Thanks to your scarlet cloth. But people are suspicious of new money. They would just say Mark is a jumped-up weaver. They want an alderman from a well-established family - someone whose father was rich, and preferably grandfather too.'

Caris wanted to beat Elfric, but she did not feel sure of her ability. She thought of her father's patience and shrewdness, his hearty conviviality, his inexhaustible energy. Did she have any such qualities? She looked at Merthin.

He said: 'You would be the best alderman the town has ever had.'

His unhesitating confidence decided her. 'All right,' she said. 'I'll do it.'

Godwyn invited Elfric to dine with him on the Friday of the fair. He ordered an expensive dinner: swan cooked with ginger and honey. Philemon served them, and sat down to eat with them. The citizens had decided to elect a new alderman and, in a remarkably short time, two candidates had emerged as the principal contestants: Elfric and Caris.

Godwyn did not like Elfric, but he was useful. He was not a particularly good builder, but he had successfully ingratiated himself with Prior Anthony, and thereby gained the contract for cathedral repairs. When Godwyn took office, he had seen in Elfric a servile toady and had kept him on. Elfric was not well liked, but he either employed or subcontracted most of the building craftsmen and suppliers in town, and they in their turn courted him in the hope of work. Having won his confidence, they all wanted him to continue in a position where he could grant them favors. And that gave him a power base.

'I don't like uncertainty,' Godwyn said.

Elfric tasted the swan and grunted appreciatively. 'In what context?'

'The election of a new alderman.'

'By its nature, an election is uncertain - unless there is only one candidate.'

'Which would be my preference.'

'Mine, too, provided that candidate was me.'

'That's what I'm suggesting.'

Elfric looked up from his dinner. 'Really?'

'Tell me, Elfric - how badly do you want to be alderman?'

Elfric swallowed his mouthful. 'I want it,' he said. His voice sounded a little hoarse, and he slurped some wine. 'I deserve it,' he went on, a note of indignation creeping into his tone. 'I'm as good as any of them, am I not? Why should I not be alderman?'

'Would you proceed with the application for a borough charter?'

Elfric stared at him. Thoughtfully, he said: 'Are you asking me to withdraw it?'

'If you're elected alderman, yes.'

'Are you offering to help me get elected?'

'Yes.'

'But how?'

'By eliminating the rival candidate.'

Elfric looked skeptical. 'I don't see how you could achieve that.'

Godwyn nodded to Philemon, who said: 'I believe Caris is a heretic.'

Elfric dropped his knife. 'You're going to try Caris as a witch?'

'You must not tell anyone about this,' Philemon said. 'If she hears about it beforehand, she may flee.'

'As Mattie Wise did.'

'I have let some townspeople believe that Mattie has been captured, and it is she who will be tried on Saturday at the ecclesiastical court. But, at the last minute, a different person will be accused.'

Elfric nodded. 'And, as it's an ecclesiastical court, there is conveniently no need for indictments or juries.' He turned to Godwyn. 'And you will be judge.'

'Unfortunately, no,' Godwyn said. 'Bishop Richard will preside. So we must prove our point.'

'Have you any evidence?' Elfric said skeptically.

Godwyn replied: 'Some, but we'd like more. What we already have would be plenty if the accused were some old woman with no family or friends, like Crazy Nell. But Caris is well known and comes from a wealthy and influential family, as I need hardly tell you.'

Philemon put in: 'It's extremely fortunate for us that her father is too ill to leave his bed - God has ordained it so that he will not be able to defend her.'

Godwyn nodded. 'Nevertheless, she has many friends. So our evidence must be strong.'

'What have you got in mind?' said Elfric.

Philemon answered. 'It would be helpful if a member of her family were to come forward and say that she had called upon the devil, or turned a crucifix upside down, or spoken to some presence in an empty room.'

For a moment, Elfric looked as if he did not understand; then enlightenment dawned. 'Oh!' he said. 'You mean me?'

'Think very carefully before you answer.'

'You're asking me to help send my sister-in-law to Gallows Cross.'

Godwyn said: 'Your sister-in-law; my cousin. Yes.'

'All right, I'm thinking.'

Godwyn saw on Elfric's face ambition, greed, and vainglory, and he marveled at the way God used even men's weaknesses to His holy purpose. He could guess what Elfric was thinking. The position of alderman was a burdensome task for an unselfish man such as Edmund, who exercised his power for the benefit of the town's merchants; but for someone with his eye on the main chance it offered endless opportunities for profit and self-aggrandizement.

Philemon continued in a smooth, assured voice. 'If you have never witnessed anything suspicious, then of course that is the end of the matter. But I beg you to search your memory carefully.'

Godwyn noticed again how much Philemon had learned in the last two years. The awkward priory servant had vanished. He talked like an archdeacon.

'There may have been incidents that seemed at the time perfectly harmless, but which take on a sinister cast in the light of what you have been told today. On mature reflection, you may feel that these events were not as innocent as they at first appeared.'

'I get your meaning, Brother,' Elfric said.

There was a long silence. None of them ate. Godwyn waited patiently for Elfric's decision.

Philemon said: 'And, of course, if Caris were dead, then Edmund's entire fortune would come to the other sister, Alice...your wife.'

'Yes,' Elfric said. 'I'd thought of that.'

'Well?' said Philemon. 'Is there anything you can think of that might help us?'

'Oh, yes,' Elfric said at last. 'I can think of quite a lot.'

42

Caris was unable to find out the truth about Mattie Wise. Some people said she had been captured and was locked in a cell in the priory. Others thought she would be tried in her absence. A third strand of opinion claimed that someone else entirely would stand trial for heresy. Godwyn refused to answer Caris's questions, and the rest of the monks said they knew nothing.

Caris went to the cathedral on Saturday morning determined to defend Mattie whether she was present or not, and to stand up for any other poor old woman who suffered this absurd accusation. Why did monks and priests hate women so? They worshipped their Blessed Virgin, but treated every other female as an incarnation of the devil. What was the matter with them?

In a secular court there would have been a jury of indictment and a preliminary hearing, and Caris would have been able to find out in advance what the evidence against Mattie might be. But the church made its own rules.

Whatever they alleged, Caris would say loud and clear that Mattie was a genuine healer who used herbs and drugs and told people to pray to God to make them well. Some of the many townspeople who had been helped by Mattie would surely speak up for her.

Caris stood with Merthin in the north transept and remembered the Saturday two years ago when Crazy Nell had been tried. Caris had told the court Nell was mad but harmless. It had done no good.

Today, as then, there was a big crowd of townspeople and visitors in the cathedral, hoping for drama: accusations, counteraccusations, quarrels, hysterics, curses, and the spectacle of a woman being flogged through the streets and then hanged at Gallows Cross. Friar Murdo was present. He always showed up for sensational trials. They provided an opportunity for him to do what he did best: whip up hysteria in a congregation.

While they were waiting for the clergy, Caris's mind wandered. Tomorrow, in this church, she would marry Merthin. Betty Baxter and her four daughters were already busy making the bread and pastry for the feast. Tomorrow night, Caris and Merthin would sleep together in his house on Leper Island.

She had stopped worrying about the marriage. She had made her decision and she would take the consequences. In truth she felt very happy. Sometimes she wondered how she could have been so scared. Merthin could not make anyone his slave - it was not in his nature. He was even kind to his boy laborer Jimmie.

Most of all she loved their sexual intimacy. It was the best thing that had ever happened to her. What she looked forward to most was having a home and a bed of their own, and being able to make love whenever they wanted to, on going to bed or on waking up, in the middle of the night or even the middle of the day.

At last the monks and nuns came in, led by Bishop Richard with his assistant, Archdeacon Lloyd. When they had taken their seats, Prior Godwyn stood up and said: 'We are here today to try the charge of heresy against Caris, daughter of Edmund Wooler.'

The crowd gasped.

Merthin shouted: 'No!'

Everyone turned to look at Caris. She felt sick with fear. She had had no suspicion of this. It hit her like a punch in the dark. Bewildered, she said: 'Why?' No one answered her.

She remembered her father warning her that Godwyn would have an extreme reaction to the threat of a borough charter. 'You know how ruthless he is, even over small disputes,' Edmund had said. 'Something like this will lead to total war.' Caris shuddered now to remember her reply: 'So be it - total war.'

Even so, Godwyn's chance of success would have been slender indeed if her father had been in good health. Edmund would have fought Godwyn to a standstill, and probably destroyed him. But Caris alone was a different matter. She did not have her father's power, authority, or popular support - not yet. Without him, she had become vulnerable.

She noticed her aunt Petranilla in the crowd. She was one of the few people
not
looking at Caris. How could she stand there in silence? Of course she supported her son, Godwyn, in general - but surely she would try to stop him condemning Caris to death? She had once said she wanted to be like a mother to Caris. Would she remember that? Somehow, Caris felt she would not. Her devotion to her son was too great. That was why she could not meet Caris's eye. She had already made up her mind not to stand in Godwyn's way.

Philemon stood up. 'My lord bishop,' he said, formally addressing the judge. But he immediately turned to the crowd. 'As everyone knows, the woman Mattie Wise has fled, too frightened and guilty to be tried. Caris has been a regular visitor to Mattie's house for some years. Only days ago she defended the woman, in front of witnesses, here in the cathedral.'

So that was why Philemon had questioned her about Mattie, Caris realized. She caught Merthin's eye. He had been worried because he could not figure out what Philemon was up to. He had been right to worry. Now they knew.

At the same time, part of her mind marveled at the transformation of Philemon. That awkward, unhappy boy was now a confident, arrogant man, standing in front of the bishop, the prior, and the townspeople, as full of spite as a snake about to strike.

Philemon said: 'She offered to swear on oath that Mattie is no witch. Why would she do that - unless to cover her own guilt?'

Merthin shouted out: 'Because she's innocent, and so is Mattie, you mendacious hypocrite!'

He might have been put in the stocks for that, but others were shouting at the same time, and his insult passed without comment.

Philemon went on: 'Recently, Caris has miraculously dyed wool the exact shade of Italian scarlet, something Kingsbridge dyers have never been able to do. How has this been achieved? By a magic spell!'

Caris heard the rumble of Mark Webber's bass voice: 'This is a lie!'

'She could not do this by daylight, of course. She lit a fire in her backyard at night, as was seen by people living nearby.'

Philemon had been assiduous, Caris noted with foreboding. He had interviewed her neighbors.

'And she chanted strange rhymes. Why?' Caris had sung to herself out of boredom, as she boiled up dyes and dipped the cloth, but Philemon had the ability to turn innocent trivia into evidence of evil. He dropped his voice to a thrilling stage whisper and said: 'Because she was calling for the secret aid of the Prince of Darkness...,' he raised his voice to a shout, '...Lucifer!'

The crowd groaned with dread.

'That cloth is Satan's scarlet!'

Caris looked at Merthin. He was aghast. 'The fools are starting to believe him!' he said.

Caris's courage began to return. 'Don't despair,' she said. 'I haven't had my say yet.'

He took her hand.

'This is not the only spell she has used,' Philemon continued in a more normal voice. 'Mattie Wise also made love potions.' He looked accusingly around the crowd. 'There may even be wicked girls in this church now who have made use of Mattie's powers to bewitch a man.'