He took me back down the stairs to the nave and through another door, to where a long spiral staircase led up to roof level. It was a long climb and I was breathless by the time we came out on a narrow wooden passageway leading to another door. An unglazed window gave a dizzying view out over the precinct and beyond, white fields and the forest in one direction and the grey sea in the other. It must have been the highest point for miles. A freezing wind whined mournfully, ruffling our hair.
'It's through here.' The prior led me through the door into a bare, wood-floored chamber where thick bell ropes hung to the floor. Looking up, I could see the dim outlines of the huge bells above. In the centre of the room, railed off, was a large circular hole. I looked over the rails and had another view of the church floor; we were so high now the men below seemed like ants. I could see the basket hanging twenty feet underneath, the outlines of tools and buckets visible inside it under a large cloth. The ropes led up through the hole into the room, where they were secured to more enormous rivets driven into the walls.
'But for the hole the sound of the bells would deafen those working the bell ropes,' the prior observed. 'They have to plug their ears as it is.'
'I can imagine; they almost deafen one at ground level.' I noticed a flight of wooden steps. 'Do those lead to the bell tower itself?'
'Yes, they're used by the servants who go up to clean and maintain them.'
'Let us go up. After you.'
The stairs led to another room, where a rail surrounded the bells themselves. They were indeed enormous, each larger than a man and fixed to the roof with huge rings. Nothing was hidden up here either. I went over to the bells, taking care not to go too close to the edge, for the railing was low. The nearest bell was covered with ornate metalwork and had a large plaque fixed to it, inscribed in a strange language.
'Arrancado de la barriga del infiel, ano 1059,' I read aloud.
'Taken from the belly of the infidel,' Prior Mortimus said. I started; I had not realized he was so close.
'Commissioner,' he said, 'I would ask you something. You saw the abbot earlier?'
'Yes.'
'He's a broken man. He's not fit for the office any more. When it comes to a replacement, Lord Cromwell will want a hard man who'll be loyal to him. I know he's been promoting supporters in the monasteries.' He looked at me meaningfully.
I shook my head in surprise. 'Prior Mortimus, do you really think this house will be allowed to continue? After what has happened here?'
He looked taken back. 'But surely — our life here — it can't really end. There's no law to make us surrender. I know people say the monasteries will come down, but that can't be allowed, surely.' He shook his head. 'Surely not.' He took another step closer, pressing me back against the railing, his foul body odour rancid in my nostrils. My heart began thumping wildly.
'Prior Mortimus,' I said. 'Please stand away.'
He stared at me and then stepped back.
'Commissioner,' he said intently, 'I could save this house.'
'The future of the monastery is something I must discuss only with Lord Cromwell.' My mouth was dry, for a terrible moment I had thought he was about to push me over. 'I have seen all I need. There is nothing hidden here. Let us go down now.'
We descended in silence. I was never so glad to stand on firm ground again.
'Will ye be leaving now?' the prior asked.
'Yes. But Mark Poer carries my authority while I am away.'
'When ye talk to Lord Cromwell, will ye mention what I said, sir? Please. I could be his man.'
'I have many things to tell him,' I said shortly. 'And now, I must go.'
I turned and walked quickly away to the infirmary. The shock of Gabriel's death had suddenly caught up with me; my head spun and my legs threatened to give way as I walked though the infirmary hall to our room. Mark was not there, but a pannier had been made up containing my papers, some food and a change of shirt. I pushed it aside and sat on the bed, letting myself give way to a trembling that shook me from head to toe. I found myself suddenly weeping uncontrollably, and I gave way to it. I wept for Gabriel, for Orphan, for Simon, even for Singleton. And for my own terror.
I was feeling calmer, washing my face in the water bowl, when there was a knock at the door. I hoped it might be Mark come to say farewell, but it was Alice, looking curiously at my flushed face.