At the appointed hour Godwyn stood in a bare, silent church.
He was alone: there were no monks or nuns with him. No furniture was to be seen, except for the fixed choir stalls. There were no candles, no crucifixes, no chalices, no flowers. The watery sun that had shone fitfully through rain clouds much of this summer now cast a weak, cold light into the nave. Godwyn held his hands tightly together behind his back to keep them from shaking.
On time, the earl walked in.
With him were Lord William, Lady Philippa, Bishop Richard, Richard's assistant Archdeacon Lloyd, and the earl's clerk Father Jerome. Godwyn would have liked to surround himself with an entourage, but none of the monks knew quite how risky his scheme was, and if they had known, they might not have had the nerve to back him up; so he had decided to face the earl alone.
The bandages had been removed from Roland's head. He walked slowly but steadily. He must surely feel shaky after so many weeks in bed, Godwyn thought, but he seemed determined not to show it. He looked normal apart from the paralysis of half his face. His message to the world today would be that he was fully recovered and back in charge. And Godwyn was threatening to spoil that design.
The others looked with incredulity at the empty church, but the earl showed no surprise. 'You're an arrogant monk,' he said to Godwyn, speaking as always out of the left side of his mouth.
Godwyn was risking everything, and had nothing further to lose by being defiant, so he said: 'You're an obstinate earl.'
Roland put his hand on the hilt of his sword. 'I ought to run you through for that.'
'Go ahead.' Godwyn held his arms out sideways, ready to be crucified. 'Murder the prior of Kingsbridge, here in the cathedral, just as King Henry's knights murdered Archbishop Thomas Becket in Canterbury. Send me to Heaven and yourself to eternal damnation.'
Philippa gasped with shock at Godwyn's disrespect. William moved as if to silence Godwyn. Roland restrained him with a gesture, and said to Godwyn: 'Your bishop orders you to ready the church for the wedding. Don't monks take a vow of obedience?'
'The lady Margery cannot be married here.'
'Why not - because you want to be prior?'
'Because she is not a virgin.'
Philippa's hand flew to her mouth. Richard groaned. William drew his sword. Roland said: 'This is treason!'
Godwyn said: 'Put away your sword, Lord William - you can't restore her maidenhead with that.'
Roland said: 'What do you know of such things, monk?'
'Two men of this priory witnessed the act, which took place in a private room of the hospital, the very room where you, my lord, are staying.'
'I don't believe you.'
'The earl of Monmouth will.'
'You would not dare to tell him.'
'I must explain to him why his son cannot marry Margery in Kingsbridge Cathedral - at least until she has confessed her sin and received absolution.'
'You have no proof of this slander.'
'I have two witnesses. But ask the girl. I believe she will confess. I imagine she favors the lover who took her virginity over the political match chosen by her uncle.' Once again Godwyn was going out on a limb. But he had seen Margery's face when Richard was kissing her, and at that moment he had felt sure she was in love. Having to marry the earl's son must be breaking her heart. It would be very difficult for such a young woman to lie convincingly if her emotions were as turbulent as Godwyn guessed.
The animated half of Roland's face was working with fury. 'And who is this man who you claim committed this crime? For, if you can prove what you allege, the villain will hang, I swear. And, if not, you will. So let him be sent for, and we'll see what he has to say.'
'He's already here.'
Roland looked with incredulity at the four men with him - his two sons, William and Richard, plus two priests, Lloyd and Jerome.
Godwyn stared at Richard.
Roland followed the direction of Godwyn's stare. In a moment, they were all looking at Richard.
Godwyn held his breath. What would Richard say? Would he bluster? Would he accuse Godwyn of lying? Would he fly into a rage and attack his accuser?
But his face showed defeat, not anger, and after a moment he bowed his head and said: 'It's no good. The damned monk is right - she will not withstand interrogation.'
Earl Roland went white. 'You did this?' he said. For once he was not shouting, but that seemed to make him more terrifying. 'The girl I betrothed to an earl's son - you fucked her?'
Richard made no reply, but looked down at the ground.
'You fool,' the earl said. 'You traitor. You - '
Philippa interrupted him. 'Who else knows?'
That stopped the tirade. They all looked at her.
'Perhaps the wedding may still take place,' she said. 'Thank God, the earl of Monmouth isn't here.' She looked at Godwyn. 'Who knows about this, other than the people here now, and the two men of the priory who witnessed the act?'
Godwyn tried to calm his thudding heart. He was so close to success that he seemed to taste it. 'No one else knows, my lady,' he said.
'All of us on the earl's side can keep the secret,' she said. 'What about your men?'
'They will obey their elected prior,' he said, with the slightest emphasis on the word 'elected.'
Philippa turned to Roland. 'Then the wedding can take place.'
Godwyn added: 'Provided the inauguration ceremony is held first.'
Everyone looked at the earl.
He took a step forward and suddenly hit Richard in the face. It was a powerful blow struck by a soldier who knew how to put all his weight into it. Although he used his open hand, Richard was knocked to the ground.
Richard lay still, looking terrified, blood trickling from his mouth.
Earl Roland's face was white and sweating: the blow had used up all his reserves, and he now looked shaky. Several silent seconds passed. At last he seemed to recover his strength. With a contemptuous glance at the purple-robed figure cowering on the floor, he turned on his heel and walked, slowly but steadily, out of the church.