ratify you. Rerun the election, and this time bring me the result I want."
"Very good, Earl Roland." Godwyn went to the door. He had several more cards in his hand, but he was not going to lay them on the table all at once. He turned and addressed Richard. "My lord bishop, when you wish to speak to me about this, you will find me in the prior's house."
He stepped outside. "You're not the prior!" Roland shouted as he shut the door.
Godwyn was trembling. Roland was formidable, especially when angry, and he was often angry. But Godwyn had stood his ground. Petranilla would be proud of him.
He went down the stairs on shaky legs and made his way to the prior's house. Carlus had already moved out. For the first time in fifteen years, Godwyn would have a bedroom to himself. His pleasure was only slightly damped by having to share the place with the bishop, who traditionally stayed there while visiting. The bishop was, technically, the abbot of Kingsbridge ex officio and, though his power was limited, his status was above that of the prior. Richard was rarely in the house during the day, but returned every night to sleep in the best bedroom.
Godwyn entered the ground-floor hall and sat in the big chair, waiting. It would not be long before Bishop Richard appeared, his ears burning with his father's scorching instructions. Richard was a rich and powerful man, but not frightening in the way the earl was. All the same, it was a bold monk who defied his bishop. However, Godwyn had an advantage in this confrontation, for he knew something shameful about Richard, and that was as good as a knife up his sleeve.
Richard bustled in a few minutes later, showing a confidence that Godwyn knew to be faked. "I've struck a bargain for you," he said without preamble. "You can be sub-prior under Murdo. You'll be in charge of day-to-day management of the priory. Murdo doesn't want to be an administrator, anyway - he just wants the prestige. You'll have all the power, but my father will be satisfied."
"Let me get this straight," said Godwyn. "Murdo agrees to make me his sub-prior. Then we tell the rest of the monks that he is the only one you'll ratify. And you think they will accept that."
"They have no choice!"
"I have an alternative suggestion. Tell the earl that the monks will not have anyone but me - and that I must be ratified before the wedding, otherwise the monks will not take part in the nuptials. The nuns, too, will refuse." Godwyn did not know whether the monks would go along with this - let alone Mother Cecilia and the nuns - but he was too far gone for caution.
"They wouldn't dare!"
"I'm afraid they would."
Richard looked panicky. "My father won't be bullied!"
Godwyn laughed. "Small chance of that. But I hope he may be made to see reason."
"He'll say the wedding must go ahead anyway. I'm the bishop, I can marry the couple, I don't need monks to help me."
"Of course. But there will be no singing, no candles, no psalms, no incense - just you and Archdeacon Lloyd."
"They will still be married."
"How will the earl of Monmouth feel about such a mean wedding for his son?"
"He'll be furious, but he'll accept it. The alliance is the important thing."
That was probably right, Godwyn thought, and he felt the cold draught of imminent failure.
It was time to draw his concealed knife.
"You owe me a kindness," he said.
At first, Richard pretended not to know what he was talking about. "Do I?"
"I concealed a sin you committed. Don't pretend to have forgotten, it was only a couple of months ago."
"Ah, yes, that was generous of you."
"I saw, with my own eyes, you and Margery on the bed in the guest room."
"Hush, for pity's sake!"
"Now is your chance to repay me that kindness. Intercede with your father. Tell him to give in. Argue that the wedding is more important. Insist on ratifying me."
Richard's face showed desperation. He looked crushed by opposing forces. "I can't!" he said, and there was panic in his voice. "My father won't be defied. You know what he's like."
"Try."
"I've already tried! I forced him to concede that you could be sub-prior."
Godwyn doubted that Roland had conceded any such thing. Richard had almost certainly made it up, knowing that such a promise could easily be broken. All the same, Godwyn