World Without End Page 0,169

quarry, some being loaded with stone, and one already making its slow way along the track through the diggings towards the exit ramp.

The men in the quarry looked up, alerted by the sound of horses, but no one approached. Workers were never in a hurry to converse with men-at-arms. Ralph waited patiently. There appeared to be only one way out of the quarry, the long slope of mud that led to where he was.

The first cart lumbered slowly up the ramp, the carter urging the ox on with a long-tailed whip, the ox putting one foot in front of the other with mute resentment. Four huge stones were piled on its flatbed, rough-hewn and incised with the mark of the man who had quarried them. Each man's output was counted once at the quarry and again at the building site, and he was paid per stone.

As the cart came closer, Ralph saw that the carter was a Kingsbridge man, Ben Wheeler. He looked a bit like his ox, with a thick neck and massive shoulders. His face wore a similar expression of dull hostility. He might try to make trouble, Ralph guessed. However, he could be subdued.

Ben drove his ox towards the line of horses blocking the road. Instead of halting at a distance, he let the beast come closer and closer. The horses were not combat-trained destriers but everyday hacks, and they snorted nervously and backed. The ox stopped of its own accord.

Ben's attitude angered Ralph, who called out: "You're a cocksure oaf."

Ben said: "Why do you stand in my way?"

"To collect the tax."

"There's no tax."

"To carry stone across the territory of the earl of Shiring, you must pay a penny per cartload."

"I have no money."

"Then you must get some."

"Do you bar my passage?"

The fool was not as scared as he should have been, which infuriated Ralph. "Don't presume to question me," Ralph said. "The stone stays here until someone has paid tax for it."

Ben glared back at him for a long moment, and Ralph had the strongest feeling that the man was wondering whether to knock him off his horse. "But I have no money," he said eventually.

Ralph wanted to run him through with his sword, but he reined in his temper. "Don't pretend to be even more stupid than you are," he said contemptuously. "Just go to the master quarryman and tell him the earl's men will not let you leave."

Ben stared at him a little longer, mulling this over; then, without speaking, he turned and walked back down the ramp, leaving his cart.

Ralph waited, fuming, staring at the ox.

Ben entered a wooden hut half way along the quarry. He emerged a few minutes later accompanied by a slight man in a brown tunic. At first, Ralph presumed the second man was the quarrymaster. However, the figure looked familiar and, as the two came closer, Ralph recognized his brother, Merthin.

"Oh, no," he said aloud.

He was not prepared for this. He felt tortured by shame as he watched Merthin walk up the long ramp. He knew he was here to betray his brother, but he had not expected Merthin to be here to see it.

"Hello, Ralph," said Merthin as he came closer. "Ben says you won't let him pass."

Merthin had always been able to overcome him in an argument, Ralph recalled dismally. He decided to be formal. It would hide his emotions, and he could hardly get into trouble if he simply repeated his instructions. He said stiffly: "The earl has decided to exercise his right to collect taxes from consignments of stone using his roads."

Merthin ignored that. "Aren't you going to get down off your horse to talk to your brother?"

Ralph would have preferred to stay mounted, but he did not want to refuse what seemed like some kind of challenge, so he got down. Then he felt as if he had already been bested.

"There's no tax on stone from here," Merthin said.

"There is now."

"The monks have been working this quarry for hundreds of years. Kingsbridge Cathedral is build of this stone. It has never been taxed."

"Perhaps the earl forgave the tax for the sake of the church," Ralph said, improvising. "But he won't do it for a bridge."

"He just doesn't want the town to have a new bridge. That's the reason for this. First he sends you to bribe me, then when that fails he invents a new tax." Merthin looked thoughtfully at Ralph. "This was your idea, wasn't it?"

Ralph was mortified. How had he guessed?