World Without End Page 0,250

studying the south aisle of the choir, the part of the church that had collapsed in front of their eyes two years ago. She recalled going up into the space over the vaulting with Merthin, and overhearing that dreadful interaction between Brother Thomas and his estranged wife, the conversation that had crystallized all her fears and made her turn Merthin down. She put the thought out of her mind. "The repairs seem to be holding," she said, guessing what he was thinking about.

He looked dubious. "Two years is a short time in the life of a cathedral."

"There's no sign of deterioration."

"That's what makes it difficult. An invisible weakness can work away for years, unsuspected, until something comes tumbling down."

"Perhaps there is no weakness."

"There must be," he said with a touch of impatience. "There was a reason why that collapse took place two years ago. We never found out what it was, so we haven't put it right. If it hasn't been put right, it's still a weakness."

"It might have corrected itself spontaneously."

She was just being argumentative, but he took her seriously. "Buildings don't usually repair themselves - but you're right, it's possible. There might have been some seepage of water, for example from a blocked gargoyle, which somehow became diverted to a less harmful route."

The monks began to enter in procession, singing, and the congregation went quiet. The nuns appeared from their separate entrance. One of the novice nuns looked up, a beautiful pale face in the line of hooded heads. It was Elizabeth Clerk. She saw Merthin and Caris together, and the sudden malice in her eyes made Caris shudder. Then Elizabeth bowed her head and disappeared back into her anonymous uniform.

"She hates you," Merthin said.

"She thinks I stopped you marrying her."

"She's right."

"No, she's not - you could have married anyone you wanted!"

"But I only wanted you."

"You toyed with Elizabeth."

"It must have seemed that way to her," Merthin said regretfully. "But I just liked talking to her. Especially after you turned to ice."

She felt uncomfortable. "I know. But Elizabeth feels cheated. The way she looks at me makes me nervous."

"Don't be afraid. She's a nun, now. She can't do you any harm."

They were quiet for a while, standing side by side, their shoulders touching intimately, watching the ritual. Bishop Richard sat on the throne at the east end, presiding over the service. Merthin liked this sort of thing, Caris knew. He always felt better afterwards, and he said that was what going to church was supposed to do for you. Caris went because people noticed if she stayed away, but she had doubts about the whole business. She believed in God, but she was not sure He revealed His wishes exclusively to men such as her cousin Godwyn. Why would a God want praise, for example? Kings and earls required worship, and the more petty their rank the more deference they demanded. It seemed to her that an almighty God would not care one way or another whether the people of Kingsbridge sang His praises, any more than she cared whether the deer in the forest feared her. She occasionally gave voice to these ideas, but no one took her seriously.

Her thoughts drifted to the future. The signs were good that the king would grant Kingsbridge a borough charter. Her father would probably be the first mayor, if his health recovered. Her cloth business would continue to grow. Mark Webber would be rich. With increased prosperity, the parish guild could build a wool exchange, so that everyone could do business comfortably even in bad weather. Merthin could design the building. Even the priory was going to be better off, though Godwyn would not thank her.

The service came to an end, and the monks and nuns began to process out. A novice monk broke out of line and entered the congregation. It was Philemon. To Caris's surprise, he approached her. "May I have a word?" he said.

She repressed a shudder. There was something loathsome about Gwenda's brother. "What about?" she replied, barely politely.

"I want to ask your advice, really," he said, with an attempt at a charming smile. "You know Mattie Wise."

"Yes."

"What do you think of her methods?"

She gave him a hard look. Where was this going? She decided she had better defend Mattie anyway. "She has never studied the texts of the ancients, of course. Despite that, her remedies work - sometimes better than those of the monks. I think it's because she