World Without End

Ralph rode slowly through Wigleigh, leading Wulfric by a rope around his neck.

They arrived late in the afternoon. For speed, Ralph had let the two small boys ride, sharing the horses of the hired men. Gwenda was walking behind. Ralph had not bothered to tie her in any way. She could be relied upon to follow her children.

Because it was Sunday, most of the Wigleigh folk were outside their houses, enjoying the sun, as Ralph had anticipated. They all stared in horrified silence at the dismal procession. Ralph hoped the sight of Wulfric's humiliation might deter others from going in search of higher wages.

They reached the small manor house that had been Ralph's home before he moved to Tench Hall. He released Wulfric and sent him and his family off to their old home. He paid off the hired men, then took Alan and Sir Gregory into the manor house.

It was kept clean and ready for his visits. He ordered Vira to bring wine then prepare supper. It was too late now to go on to Tench: they could not get there before nightfall.

Gregory sat down and stretched out his long legs. He seemed like a man who could make himself comfortable anywhere. His straight dark hair was now tweeded with gray, but his long nose with its flared nostrils still gave him a supercilious look. 'How do you feel that went?' he said.

Ralph had been thinking about the new ordinance all the way home, and he had his answer ready. 'It's not going to work,' he said.

Gregory raised his eyebrows. 'Oh?'

Alan said: 'I agree with Sir Ralph.'

'Reasons?'

Ralph said: 'First of all, it's difficult to find out where the runaways have gone.'

Alan put in: 'It was only by luck that we traced Wulfric. Someone had overheard him and Gwenda planning where to go.'

'Second,' Ralph went on, 'recovering them is too troublesome.'

Gregory nodded. 'I suppose we have been all day at it.'

'And I had to hire those ruffians and get them horses. I can't spend my time and money chasing all over the countryside after runaway laborers.'

'I see that.'

'Third, what is to stop them running away again next week?'

Alan said: 'If they keep their mouths shut about where they're headed, we might never find them.'

'The only way it will work,' Ralph said, 'is if someone can go to a village, find out who the migrants are, and punish them.'

Gregory said: 'You're talking about a sort of Commission of Laborers.'

'Exactly. Appoint a panel in each county, a dozen or so men who go from place to place ferreting out runaways.'

'You want someone else to do the work for you.'

It was a taunt, but Ralph was careful not to appear stung. 'Not necessarily - I'll be one of the commissioners, if you wish. It's just the way the job is to be done. You can't reap a field of grass one blade at a time.'

'Interesting,' said Gregory.

Vira brought a jug and some goblets, and poured wine for the three of them.

Gregory said: 'You're a shrewd man, Sir Ralph. You're not a Member of Parliament, are you?'

'No.'

'Pity. I think the king would find your counsel helpful.'

Ralph tried not to beam with pleasure. 'You're very kind.' He leaned forward. 'Now that Earl William is dead, there is of course a vacancy - ' He saw the door open, and broke off.

Nate Reeve came in. 'Well done, Sir Ralph, if I may say so!' he said. 'Wulfric and Gwenda back in the fold, the two hardest-working people we've got.'

Ralph was annoyed with Nate for interrupting at such a crucial moment. He said irritably: 'I trust the village will now be able to pay more of its dues.'

'Yes, sir...if they stay.'

Ralph frowned. Nate had immediately fastened on the weakness in his position. How was he going to keep Wulfric in Wigleigh? He could not chain a man to a plow all day and all night.

Gregory spoke to Nate. 'Tell me, bailiff, do you have a suggestion for your lord?'

'Yes, sir, I do.'

'I thought you might.'

Nate took that as an invitation. Addressing Ralph, he said: 'There is one thing you could do that would guarantee that Wulfric would stay here in Wigleigh until the day he dies.'

Ralph sensed a trick, but had to say: 'Go on.'

'Give him back the lands his father held.'

Ralph would have yelled at him, except that he did not want to give Gregory a bad impression. Controlling his anger, he said firmly: 'I don't think so.'

'I can't get a tenant for the land,' Nate persisted. 'Annet can't manage it, and she has no male relations living.'

'I don't care,' said Ralph. 'He can't have the land.'

Gregory said: 'Why not?'

Ralph did not want to admit that he still held a grudge against Wulfric because of a fight twelve years ago. Gregory had formed a good impression of Ralph, and Ralph did not want to spoil it. What would the king's counselor think of a knight who acted against his own interests in pursuit of a boyhood squabble? He cast about for a plausible excuse. 'It would seem to be rewarding Wulfric for running away,' he said finally.

'Hardly,' said Gregory. 'From what Nate says, you'd be giving him something that no one else wants.'

'All the same, it sends the wrong signal to the other villagers.'

'I think you're being too scrupulous,' Gregory said. He was not the kind of man to keep his opinions tactfully to himself. 'Everyone must know you're desperate for tenants,' he went on. 'Most landlords are. The villagers will see that you're simply acting in your own interest, and consider that Wulfric is the lucky beneficiary.'

Nate added: 'Wulfric and Gwenda will work twice as hard if they've got their own land.'

Ralph felt cornered. He was desperate to look good in Gregory's eyes. He had started but not finished a discussion about the earldom. He could not put that at risk just because of Wulfric.

He had to give in.

'Perhaps you're right,' he said. He realized he was speaking through gritted teeth, and made an effort to be nonchalant. 'After all, he has been brought home and humiliated. That may be enough.'

'I'm sure it is.'

'All right, Nate,' Ralph said. For a moment words stuck in his throat, he hated so much to give Wulfric his heart's desire. But this was more important. 'Tell Wulfric he can have his father's lands back.'

'I'll do that before nightfall,' Nate said, and he left.

Gregory said: 'What were you saying about the earldom?'

Ralph picked his words carefully. 'After Earl Roland died at the battle of Cr??cy, I thought the king might have considered making me the earl of Shiring, especially as I had saved the life of the young prince of Wales.'

'But Roland had a perfectly good heir - who himself had two sons.'

'Exactly. And now all three are dead.'

'Hmm.' Gregory took a draft from his goblet. 'This is good wine.'

'Gascon,' said Ralph.

'I suppose it comes into Melcombe.'

'Yes.'

'Delicious.' Gregory drank some more. He seemed to be about to say something, so Ralph remained silent. Gregory took a long time choosing his words. At last he said: 'There is, somewhere in the neighborhood of Kingsbridge, a letter that...ought not to exist.'

Ralph was mystified. What was coming now?

Gregory went on: 'For many years, this document was in the hands of someone who could be relied upon, for various complicated reasons, to keep it safe. Lately, however, certain questions have been asked, suggesting to me that the secret may be in danger of getting out.'

All this was too enigmatic. Ralph said impatiently: 'I don't understand. Who has been asking embarrassing questions?'

'The prioress of Kingsbridge.'

'Oh.'

'It's possible she may have simply picked up some hint, and her questions may be harmless. But what the king's friends fear is that the letter may have got into her possession.'

'What is in the letter?'

Once again, Gregory chose his words warily, tiptoeing across a raging river on carefully placed stepping-stones. 'Something touching the king's beloved mother.'

'Queen Isabella.' The old witch was still alive, living in splendor in her castle at Lynn, spending her days reading romances in her native French, so people said.

'In short,' said Gregory, 'I need to find out whether the prioress has this letter or not. But no one must know of my interest.'

Ralph said: 'Either you have to go to the priory and search through the nuns' documents...or the documents must come to you.'

'The second of those two.'

Ralph nodded. He was beginning to understand what Gregory wanted him to do.

Gregory said: 'I have made some very discreet inquiries, and discovered that no one knows exactly where the nuns' treasury is.'

'The nuns must know, or some of them.'

'But they won't say. However, I understand you're an expert in...persuading people to reveal secrets.'

So Gregory knew of the work Ralph had done in France. There was nothing spontaneous about this conversation, Ralph realized. Gregory must have planned it. In fact it was probably the real reason he had come to Kingsbridge. Ralph said: 'I may be able to help the king's friends solve this problem...'

'Good.'

'...if I were promised the earldom of Shiring as my reward.'

Gregory frowned. 'The new earl will have to marry the old countess.'

Ralph decided to hide his eagerness. Instinct told him that Gregory would have less respect for a man who was driven, even just partly, by lust for a woman. 'Lady Philippa is five years older than I am, but I have no objection to her.'

Gregory looked askance. 'She's a very beautiful woman,' he said. 'Whoever the king gives her to should think himself a lucky man.'

Ralph realized he had gone too far. 'I don't wish to appear indifferent,' he said hastily. 'She is indeed a beauty.'

'But I thought you were already married,' Gregory said. 'Have I made a mistake?'

Ralph caught Alan's eye, and saw that he was keenly curious to hear what Ralph would say next.

Ralph sighed. 'My wife is very ill,' he said. 'She hasn't long to live.'

Gwenda lit the fire in the kitchen of the old house where Wulfric had lived since he was born. She found her cooking pots, filled one with water at the well, and threw in some early onions, the first step in making a stew. Wulfric brought in more firewood. The boys happily went out to play with their old friends, unaware of the depth of the tragedy that had befallen their family.

Gwenda busied herself with household chores as the evening darkened outside. She was trying not to think. Everything that came into her mind just made her feel worse: the future, the past, her husband, herself. Wulfric sat and looked into the flames. Neither of them spoke.

Their neighbor, David Johns, appeared with a big jug of ale. His wife was dead of the plague, but his grown-up daughter, Joanna, followed him in. Gwenda was not happy to see them: she wanted to be miserable in private. But their intentions were kind, and it was impossible to spurn them. Gwenda glumly wiped the dust from some wooden cups, and David poured ale for everyone.

'We're sorry things worked out this way, but we're glad to see you,' he said as they drank.

Wulfric emptied his cup with one huge swallow and held it out for more.

A little later Aaron Appletree and his wife Ulla came in. She carried a basket of small loaves. 'I knew you wouldn't have any bread, so I made some,' she said. She handed them around, and the house filled with the mouthwatering smell. David Johns poured them some ale, and they sat down. 'Where did you get the courage to run away?' Ulla asked admiringly. 'I would have died of fright!'

Gwenda began to tell the story of their adventures. Jack and Eli Fuller arrived from the mill, bringing a dish of pears baked in honey. Wulfric ate plenty and drank deep. The atmosphere lightened, and Gwenda's mood lifted a little. More neighbors came, each bringing a gift. When Gwenda told how the villagers of Outhenby with their spades and hoes had faced down Ralph and Alan, everyone rocked with delighted laughter.

Then she came to the events of today, and she descended into despair again. 'Everything was against us,' she said bitterly. 'Not just Ralph and his ruffians, but the king and the church. We had no chance.'

The neighbors nodded gloomily.

'And then, when he put a rope around my Wulfric's neck...' She was filled with bleak despair. Her voice cracked, and she could not go on. She took a gulp of ale and tried again. 'When he put a rope around Wulfric's neck - the strongest and bravest man I've ever known, any of us have ever known, led through the village like a beast, and that heartless, crass, bullying Ralph holding the rope - I just wanted the heavens to fall in and kill us all.'

These were strong words, but the others agreed. Of all the things the gentry could do to peasants - starve them, cheat them, assault them, rob them - the worst was to humiliate them. They never forgot it.

Suddenly Gwenda wanted the neighbors to leave. The sun had gone down, and it was dusk outside. She needed to lie down and close her eyes and be alone with her thoughts. She did not want to talk even to Wulfric. She was about to ask everyone to go when Nate Reeve walked in.

The room went quiet.

'What do you want?' Gwenda said.

'I bring you good news,' he said brightly.

She made a sour face. 'There can be no good news for us today.'

'I disagree. You haven't heard it yet.'

'All right, what is it?'

'Sir Ralph says Wulfric is to have his father's lands back.'

Wulfric leaped to his feet. 'As a tenant?' he said. 'Not just to labor on?'

'As a tenant, on the same terms as your father,' said Nate expansively, as if he were making the concession himself, rather than simply passing on a message.

Wulfric beamed with joy. 'That's wonderful!'

'Do you accept?' Nate said jovially, as if it were a mere formality.

Gwenda said: 'Wulfric! Don't accept!'

He looked at her, bewildered. As usual, he was slow to see beyond the immediate.

'Discuss the terms!' she urged him in a low voice. 'Don't be a serf like your father. Demand a free tenancy, with no feudal obligations. You'll never be in such a strong bargaining position again. Negotiate!'

'Negotiate?' he said. He wavered briefly, then gave in to the happiness of the occasion. 'This is the moment I've been hoping for for the last twelve years. I'm not going to negotiate.' He turned to Nate. 'I accept,' he said, and held up his cup.

They all cheered.