World Without End

16

Wulfric and Gwenda left Kingsbridge early on Monday morning to walk the long road back to their village of Wigleigh.

Caris and Merthin watched them cross the river on Merthin’s new ferry. Merthin was pleased by how well it was working. The wooden gears would wear out quite quickly, he knew. Iron gears would be better, but-

Caris had other thoughts. “Gwenda is so much in love,” she sighed.

“She has no chance with Wulfric,” Merthin said.

“You never know. She’s a determined girl. Look how she escaped from Sim Chapman.”

“But Wulfric’s engaged to that A

“Good looks aren’t everything in a romance.”

“For which I thank God every day.”

She laughed. “I love your fu

“But Wulfric fought my brother over A

“Gwenda’s got a love potion.”

Merthin gave her a disapproving look. “So you think it’s all right for a girl to manoeuvre a man into marrying her when he loves someone else?”

She was struck silent for a moment. The soft skin of her throat turned pink. “I never thought of it that way,” she said. “Is it really the same thing?”

“It’s similar.”

“But she’s not coercing him – she just wants to make him love her.”

“She should try to do that without a potion.”

“Now I feel ashamed of helping her.”

“Too late.” Wulfric and Gwenda were getting off the ferry on the far side. They turned to wave, then headed along the road through the suburbs with Skip, the dog, at their heels.

Merthin and Caris walked back up the main street. Caris said: “You haven’t spoken to Griselda yet.”

“I’m going to do it now. I don’t know whether I’m looking forward to it or dreading it.”

“You’ve got nothing to fear. She’s the one who lied.”

“That’s true.” He touched his face. The bruise had almost healed. “I just hope her father doesn’t get violent again.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

He would have been glad of her support, but he shook his head. “I made this mess, and I have to straighten it out.”

They stopped outside Elfric’s house. Caris said: “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Merthin kissed her lips briefly, resisted the temptation to kiss her again, and walked in.

Elfric was sitting at the table eating bread and cheese. A cup of ale stood in front of him. Beyond him, Merthin could see Alice and the maid in the kitchen. There was no sign of Griselda.

Elfric said: “Where have you been?”

Merthin decided that if he had nothing to fear he had better act fearlessly. He ignored Elfric’s question. “Where’s Griselda?”

“Still in bed.”

Merthin shouted up the stairs: “Griselda! I want to talk to you.”

Elfric said: “No time for that. We’ve got work to do.”

Again Merthin ignored him. “Griselda! You’d better get up now.”

“Hey!” Elfric said. “Who do you think you are, to give orders?”

“You want me to marry her, don’t you?”

“So what?”

“So she’d better get used to doing what her husband tells her.” He raised his voice again. “Get down here now, or you’ll just have to hear what I’ve got to say from someone else.”

She appeared at the top of the stairs. “I’m coming!” she said irritably. “What’s all the fuss about?”

Merthin waited for her to come down, then said: “I’ve found out who the father of the baby is.”

Fear flashed in her eyes. “Don’t be stupid, it’s you.”

“No, it’s Thurstan.”

“I never lay with Thurstan!” She looked at her father. “Honestly I didn’t.”

Elfric said: “She doesn’t lie.”

Alice came out of the kitchen. “That’s right,” she said.

Merthin said: “I lay with Griselda on the Sunday of Fleece Fair week – fifteen days ago. Griselda is three months pregnant.”

“I’m not!”

Merthin looked hard at Alice. “You knew, didn’t you?” Alice looked away. Merthin went on: “And yet you lied – even to Caris, your own sister.”

Elfric said: “You don’t know how long pregnant she is.”

“Look at her,” Merthin replied. “You can see the bulge in her belly. Not much, but it’s there.”

“What do you know of such things? You’re just a boy.”

“Yes – you were all relying on my ignorance, weren’t you? And it almost worked.”

Elfric wagged his finger. “You lay with Griselda, and now you’ll marry Griselda.”

“Oh no I won’t. She doesn’t love me. She lay with me to get a father for her baby, after Thurstan ran away. I know I did wrong, but I’m not going to punish myself for the rest of my life by marrying her.”

Elfric stood up. “You are, you know.”

“No.”

“You’ve got to.”

“No.”

Elfric’s face turned red, and he shouted: “You will marry her!”

Merthin said: “How long do you want me to keep on saying no?”

Elfric realized he was serious. “In that case, you’re dismissed,” he said. “Get out of my house and never come back.”

Merthin had been expecting this, and it came as a relief. It meant the argument was over. “All right.” He tried to step past Elfric.

Elfric blocked his way. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the kitchen, to get my things.”

“Your tools, you mean.”

“Yes.”

“They’re not yours. I paid for them.”

“An apprentice is always given his tools at the end of his…” Merthin tailed off.

“You haven’t finished your apprenticeship, so you don’t get your tools.”

Merthin had not expected this. “I’ve done six and a half years!”

“You’re supposed to do seven.”

Without tools Merthin could not earn his living. “That’s unfair. I’ll appeal to the carpenters’ guild.”

“I look forward to it,” Elfric said smugly. “It will be interesting to hear you argue that an apprentice who is sacked for lying with his master’s daughter should be rewarded with a free set of tools. The carpenters in the guild have all got apprentices, and most of them have daughters.

They’ll throw you out on your arse.”

Merthin realized he was right.

Alice said: “There you are, you’re in real trouble now, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Merthin said. “But whatever happens, it won’t be as bad as life with Griselda and her family.”

Later that morning, Merthin went to St Mark’s church for the funeral of Howell Tyler. He attended because he hoped someone there would give him a job.

Looking up at the timber ceiling – the church did not have a stone vault – Merthin could see a man-shaped hole in the painted wood, grim testament to the ma

St Mark’s was a poor church. It had a pitiful endowment, a single farm ten miles away that was kept by the priest’s brother and just about managed to feed the family. The priest, Father Joffroi, had to get his income from the eight or nine hundred citizens of his parish in the poorer north end of town. Those who were not actually destitute generally pretended to be, so their tithes brought in only a modest sum. He made his living by christening, marrying and burying them, charging a lot less than the monks at the cathedral. His parishioners married early, had many children and died young, so there was plenty of work for him, and in the end he did well enough. But if he closed the church his income would dry up – and he would not be able to pay the builders.

Consequently the work on the roof had stopped.

All the town’s builders came to the funeral, including Elfric. Merthin tried to look unashamed as he stood in the church, but it was difficult: most of them knew he had been dismissed. He had been unjustly treated but, unfortunately, he was not completely i