Then, when the moment came, he read the crucial page from Timothy's Book.
He felt nervous. He had returned from Oxford a year ago, and he had been quietly talking to people about reforming the priory ever since; but, until this moment, he had not openly confronted Anthony. The prior was weak and lazy, and needed to be shocked out of his lethargy. Furthermore, St Benedict had written: "All must be called to chapter, for the Lord often reveals to a younger member what is best." Godwyn was perfectly entitled to speak out in chapter and call for stricter compliance with monastic rules. All the same, he suddenly felt he was running a risk, and wished he had taken longer to think about his tactics in using Timothy's Book.
But it was too late for regrets. He closed the book and said: "My question, to myself and my brethren, is this: Have we slipped below the standards of Prior Philip in the matter of separation between monks and females?" He had learned, in student debates, to put his argument in the form of a question whenever he could, giving his opponent as little as possible to argue against.
The first to reply was Blind Carlus, the sub-prior, Anthony's deputy. "Some monasteries are located far from any centre of population, on an uninhabited island, or deep in the forest, or perched on a lonely mountain top," he said. His slow, deliberate speech made Godwyn fidget with impatience. "In such houses, the brothers seclude themselves from all contact with the secular world," he went on unhurriedly. "Kingsbridge has never been like that. We're in the heart of a great city, the home of seven thousand souls. We care for one of the most magnificent cathedrals in Christendom. Many of us are physicians, because St Benedict said: 'Special care must be taken of the sick, so that in very deed they be looked after as if it were Christ himself.' The luxury of total isolation has not been granted to us. God has given us a different mission."
Godwyn had expected something like this. Carlus hated furniture to be moved, for then he would stumble over it; and he opposed any other kind of change, out of a parallel anxiety about coping with the unfamiliar.
Theodoric had a quick answer to Carlus. "All the more reason for us to be strict about the rules," he said. "A man who lives next door to a tavern must be extra careful to avoid drunkenness."
There was a murmur of pleased agreement: the monks enjoyed a smart riposte. Godwyn gave a nod of approval. The fair-skinned Theodoric blushed with gratification.
Emboldened, a novice called Juley said in a loud whisper: "Women don't bother Carlus, he can't see them." Several monks laughed, though others shook their heads in disapproval.
Godwyn felt it was going well. He seemed to be winning the argument, so far. Then Prior Anthony said: "Exactly what are you proposing, Brother Godwyn?" He had not been to Oxford, but he knew enough to press for his opponent's real agenda.
Reluctantly, Godwyn put his cards on the table. "We might consider reverting to the position as it was in the time of Prior Philip."
Anthony persisted: "What do you mean by that, exactly? No nuns?"
"Yes."
"But where would they go?"
"The nunnery could be removed to another location, and become a remote cell of the priory, like Kingsbridge College, or St-John-in-the-Forest."
That shocked them. There was a clamour of comment, which the prior suppressed with difficulty. The voice that emerged from the hubbub was that of Joseph, the senior physician. He was a clever man, but proud, and Godwyn was wary of him. "How would we run a hospital without nuns?" he said. His bad teeth caused him to slur his sibilants, making him sound drunk, but he spoke with no less authority. "They administer medicines, change dressings, feed the incapable, comb the hair of senile old men-"
Theodoric said: "Monks could do all that."
"Then what about childbirth?" Joseph said. "We often deal with women who are having difficulty bringing a baby into the world. How could monks help them without nuns to do the actual... handling?"
Several men voiced their agreement, but Godwyn had anticipated this question, and now he said: "Suppose the nuns removed to the old lazar house?" The leper colony - or lazar house - was on a small island in the river on the south side of the town. In the old days it had been full of sufferers, but leprosy