the sentry on the other side. The man climbed to the battlements and looked down. "This sack is for Madge Webber," Merthin shouted up. "Make sure she gets it personally, would you, sentry?"
"Very good, alderman," said the sentry.
As always, a few plague victims from the villages were brought to the island by their relatives. Most people now knew there was no cure for the plague and simply let their loved ones die, but a few were ignorant or optimistic enough to hope that Caris could work a miracle. The sick were left outside the hospital doors, like supplies at the city gate. The nuns came out for them at night when the relatives had gone. Now and again a lucky survivor emerged in good health, but most patients went out through the back door and were buried in a new graveyard on the far side of the hospital building.
At midday Merthin invited Davey to dinner. Over rabbit pie and new peas, Davey confessed he was in love with the daughter of his mother's old enemy. "I don't know why Ma hates Annet, but it's all so long in the past, and it's nothing to do with me or Amabel," he said, with the indignation of youth against the irrationality of parents. When Merthin nodded sympathetically, Davey asked: "Did your parents stand in your way like this?"
Merthin thought for a moment. "Yes," he said. "I wanted to be a squire and spend my life as a knight fighting for the king. I was heartbroken when they apprenticed me to a carpenter. However, in my case it worked out quite well."
Davey was not pleased by this anecdote.
In the afternoon access to the inner bridge was closed off at the island end, and the gates of the city were opened. Teams of porters came out and picked up everything that had been left, and carried the supplies to their destinations in the city.
There was no message from Madge about the dye.
Merthin had a second visitor that day. Towards the end of the afternoon, as trading petered out, Canon Claude arrived.
Claude's friend and patron, Bishop Henri, was now installed as archbishop of Monmouth. However, his replacement as bishop of Kingsbridge had not been chosen. Claude wanted the position, and had been to London to see Sir Gregory Longfellow. He was on his way back to Monmouth, where he would continue to work as Henri's right-hand man for the moment.
"The king likes Philemon's line on taxation of the clergy," he said over cold rabbit pie and a goblet of Merthin's best Gascon wine. "And the senior clergy liked the sermon against dissection and the plan to build a Lady chapel. On the other hand, Gregory dislikes Philemon - says he can't be trusted. The upshot is, the king has postponed a decision by ruling that the monks of Kingsbridge cannot hold an election while they are in exile at St-John-in-the-Forest."
Merthin said: "I assume the king sees little point in selecting a bishop while the plague rages and the city is closed."
Claude nodded agreement. "I did achieve something, albeit small," he went on. "There is a vacancy for an English ambassador to the pope. The appointee has to live in Avignon. I suggested Philemon. Gregory seemed intrigued by the idea. At least, he didn't rule it out."
"Good!" The thought of Philemon being sent so far away lifted Merthin's spirits. He wished there were something he could do to weigh in on Claude's side; but he had already written to Gregory pledging the support of the guild, and that was the limit of his influence.
"One more piece of news - sad news, in fact," Claude said. "On my way to London, I went to St-John-in-the-Forest. Henri is still abbot, technically, and he sent me to reprimand Philemon for decamping without permission. Waste of time, really. Anyway, Philemon has adopted Caris's precautions, and would not let me in, but we talked through the door. So far, the monks have escaped the plague. But your old friend Brother Thomas has died of old age. I'm sorry."
"God rest his soul," Merthin said sadly. "He was very frail towards the end. His mind was going, too."
"The move to St John probably didn't help him."
"Thomas encouraged me when I was a young builder."
"Strange how God sometimes takes the good men from us and leaves the bad."
Claude left early the next morning.
As Merthin was going through his daily routine, one of the carters came back from the city gate