World Without End Page 0,348

for help. If I were to flee... well, I don't know how to explain this."

"I think I understand," Merthin said. "You'd be like a soldier who runs away as soon as the first arrow is shot. You'd feel a coward."

"Yes - and a cheat, after all these years of being a nun and saying that I live to serve others."

"I knew you would feel this way," Merthin said. "But I had to try." The sadness in his voice nearly broke her heart as he added: "And I suppose this means you won't be renouncing your vows in the foreseeable future."

"No. The hospital is where they come for help. I have to be here at the priory, to play my role. I have to be a nun."

"All right, then."

"Don't be too downhearted."

With wry sorrow he said: "And why should I not be downhearted?"

"You said that it killed half the population of Florence?"

"Something like that."

"So at least half the people just didn't catch it."

"Like Lolla. No one knows why. Perhaps they have some special strength. Or maybe the disease strikes at random, like arrows fired into the enemy ranks, killing some and missing others."

"Either way, there's a good chance I'll escape the illness."

"One chance in two."

"Like the toss of a coin."

"Heads or tails," he said. "Life or death."

Chapter 58

Hundreds of people came to Mark Webber's funeral. He had been one of the town's leading citizens, but it was more than that. Poor weavers arrived from the surrounding villages, some of them having walked for hours. He had been unusually well loved, Merthin reflected. The combination of his giant's body and his gentle temperament cast a spell.

It was a wet day, and the bared heads of rich and poor men were soaked as they stood around the grave. Cold rain mingled with hot tears on the faces of the mourners. Madge stood with her arms around the shoulders of her two younger sons, Dennis and Noah. They were flanked by the eldest son, John, and the daughter, Dora, who were both much taller than their mother, and looked as if they might be the parents of the three short people in the middle.

Merthin wondered grimly whether Madge or one of her children would be the next to die.

Six strong men grunted with the effort of lowering the extra-large coffin into the grave. Madge sobbed helplessly as the monks sang the last hymn. Then the gravediggers started to shovel the sodden earth back into the hole, and the crowd began to disperse.

Brother Thomas approached Merthin, pulling up his hood to keep the rain off. "The priory has no money to rebuild the tower," he said. "Godwyn has commissioned Elfric to demolish the old tower and just roof the crossing."

Merthin tore his mind away from apocalyptic thoughts of the plague. "How will Godwyn pay Elfric for that?"

"The nuns are putting up the money."

"I thought they hated Godwyn."

"Sister Elizabeth is the treasurer. Godwyn is careful to be kind to her family, who are tenants of the priory. Most of the other nuns do hate him, it's true - but they need a church."

Merthin had not given up his hope of rebuilding the tower higher than before. "If I could find the money, would the priory build a new tower?"

Thomas shrugged. "Hard to say."

That afternoon, Elfric was re-elected alderman of the parish guild. After the meeting Merthin sought out Bill Watkin, the largest builder in town after Elfric. "Once the foundations of the tower are repaired, it could be built even higher," he said.

"No reason why not," Bill agreed. "But what would be the point?"

"So that it could be seen from Mudeford Crossing. Many travellers - pilgrims, merchants and so on - miss the road for Kingsbridge and go on to Shiring. The town loses a lot of custom that way."

"Godwyn will say he can't afford it."

"Consider this," Merthin said. "Suppose the new tower could be financed the same way as the bridge? The town merchants could lend the money and be repaid out of bridge tolls."

Bill scratched his monk-like fringe of grey hair. This was an unfamiliar concept. "But the tower is nothing to do with the bridge."

"Does that matter?"

"I suppose not."

"The bridge tolls are just a way of guaranteeing that the loan is repaid."

Bill considered his self-interest. "Would I be commissioned to do any of the work?"

"It would be a big project - every builder in town would get a piece of it."

"That would