World Without End Page 0,476

for the nunnery.

He was flabbergasted. He called after her: "How can you be so reckless?"

She was going to ignore him, then she changed her mind and decided to explain. She turned back. "You see, all that I ever held dear has been taken from me," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "And when you've lost everything-" Her façade began to crumble, and her voice broke, but she made herself carry on. "When you've lost everything, you've got nothing to lose."

The first snow fell in January. It formed a thick blanket on the roof of the cathedral, smoothed out the delicate carving of the spires, and masked the faces of the angels and saints sculpted over the west door. The new masonry of the tower foundations had been covered with straw to insulate the new mortar against winter frost, and now the snow overlaid the straw.

There were few fireplaces in a priory. The kitchen had fires, of course, which was why work in kitchens was always popular with novices. But there was no fire in the cathedral, where the monks and nuns spent seven or eight hours every day. When churches burned down, it was usually because some desperate monk had brought a charcoal brazier into the building, and a spark had flown from the fire to the timber ceiling. When not in church or labouring, the monks and nuns were supposed to walk and read in the cloisters, which were out of doors. The only concession to their comfort was the warming room, a small chamber off the cloisters where a fire was lit in the most severe weather. They were allowed to come into the warming room from the cloisters for short periods.

As usual, Caris ignored rules and traditions, and permitted nuns to wear woollen hose in the winter. She did not believe that God needed his servants to get chilblains.

Bishop Henri was so worried about the hospital - or rather, about the threat to his tower - that he drove from Shiring to Kingsbridge through the snow. He came in a charette, a heavy wooden cart with a waxed canvas cover and cushioned seats. Canon Claude and Archdeacon Lloyd came with him. They paused at the prior's palace only long enough to dry their clothes and drink a warming cup of wine before summoning a crisis meeting with Philemon, Sime, Caris, Oonagh, Merthin and Madge.

Caris knew it would be a waste of time but she went anyway: it was easier than refusing, which would have required her to sit in the nunnery and deal with endless messages begging, commanding and threatening her.

She looked at the snowflakes falling past the glazed windows as the bishop drearily summarized a quarrel in which she really had no interest. "This crisis has been brought about by the disloyal and disobedient attitude of Mother Caris," Henri said.

That stung her into a response. "I worked in the hospital here for ten years," she said. "My work, and the work of Mother Cecilia before me, are what made it so popular with the townspeople." She pointed a rude finger at the bishop. "You changed it. Don't try to blame others. You sat in that chair and announced that Brother Sime would henceforth be in charge. Now you should take responsibility for the consequences of your foolish decision."

"You must obey me!" he said, his voice rising to a screech in frustration. "You are a nun - you have taken a vow." The grating sound disturbed the cat, Archbishop, and it stood up and walked out of the room.

"I realize that," Caris said. "It puts me in an intolerable position." She spoke without forethought, but as the words came out she realized they were not really ill-considered. In fact they were the fruit of months of brooding. "I can no longer serve God in this way," she went on, her voice calm but her heart pounding. "That is why I have decided to renounce my vows and leave the nunnery."

Henri actually stood up. "You will not!" he shouted. "I will not release you from your holy vows."

"I expect God will, though," she said, scarcely disguising her contempt.

That made him angrier. "This notion that individuals can deal with God is wicked heresy. There has been too much of such loose talk since the plague."

"Do you think that might have happened because, when people approached the church for help during the plague, they so often found that its priest and monks -" here