sure, and he was eager to tell her the story. He decided to go in search of her.
Strictly speaking, this was not allowed. Monks were not supposed to roam about the streets of the town at will. They needed a reason, and in theory they were supposed to ask the prior's permission before leaving the precincts. But in practice, the obedientiaries - monastic officials - had dozens of excuses. The priory did business constantly with merchants, buying food, cloth, shoes, parchment, candles, garden tools, tack for horses, all the necessities of everyday life. The monks were landlords, owning almost the entire city. And any one of the physicians might be called to see a patient who was unable to walk to the hospital. So it was common to see monks in the streets, and Godwyn, the sacrist, was not likely to be asked to explain what he was doing out of the monastery.
Nevertheless it was wise to be discreet, and he made sure he was not observed as he left the priory. He passed through the busy fair and went quickly along the main street to his Uncle Edmund's house.
As he hoped, Edmund and Caris were out doing business, and he found his mother alone but for the servants. "This is a treat for a mother," she said. "To see you twice in one day! And it gives me a chance to feed you up." She poured him a big tankard of strong ale and told the cook to bring a plate of cold beef. "What happened in chapter?" she said.
He told her the story. "I was in too much of a hurry," he said at the end.
She nodded. "My father used to say: Never call a meeting until the outcome is a foregone conclusion."
Godwyn smiled. "I must remember that."
"All the same, I don't think you've done any harm."
That was a relief. She was not going to be angry. "But I lost the argument," he said.
"You also established your position as leader of the reformist younger group."
"Even though I made a fool of myself?"
"Better than being a nonentity."
He was not sure she was right about that but, as usual when he doubted the wisdom of his mother's advice, he did not challenge her, but resolved to think about it later. "Something very odd happened," he said, and he told her about Richard and Margery, leaving out the gross physical details.
She was surprised. "Richard must be mad!" she said. "The wedding will be called off if the earl of Monmouth finds out that Margery isn't a virgin. Earl Roland will be furious. Richard could be unfrocked."
"But a lot of bishops have mistresses, don't they?"
"That's different. A priest may have a 'housekeeper' who is his wife in all but name. A bishop may have several. But to take the virginity of a noblewoman shortly before her wedding - even the son of an earl might find it difficult to survive as a clergyman after that."
"What do you think I should do?"
"Nothing. You've handled it perfectly so far." He glowed with pride. She added: "One day this information will be a powerful weapon. Just remember it."
"There's one more thing. I wondered how Philemon had come across the loose stone, and it occurred to me that he might have used it initially as a hiding place. I was right - and I found a bracelet that Lady Philippa had lost."
"Interesting," she said. "I have a strong feeling that Philemon will be useful to you. He'll do anything, you see. He has no scruples, no morals. My father had an associate who was always willing to do his dirty work - start rumours, spread poisonous gossip, foment strife. Such men can be invaluable."
"So you don't think I should report the theft."
"Certainly not. Make him give the bracelet back, if you think it's important - he can just say he found it while sweeping. But don't expose him. You'll reap the benefit, I guarantee."
"So I should protect him?"
"As you would a mad dog that mauls intruders. He's dangerous, but he's worth it."
Chapter 10
On Thursday, Merthin completed the door he was carving.
He had finished work in the south aisle, for the present. The scaffolding was in place. There was no need for him to make formwork for the masons, as Godwyn and Thomas were determined to save money by trying Merthin's method of building without it. So he returned to his carving and realized