gloom of the porch in a wet cloak - it was raining again. "My brother Edmund came to see Blind Carlus yesterday," she said. "He tells me Carlus is acting as ii he is already prior, and the election is a mere formality."
There was an accusing note in her voice as if this was Godwyn's fault, and he answered defensively. "The old guard swung behind Carlus before Uncle Anthony's body was cold. They won't hear talk of rival candidates."
"Hm. And the youngsters?"
"They want me to run, of course. They liked the way I stood up to Prior Anthony over Timothy's Book - even though I was overruled. But I've said nothing."
"Any other candidates?"
"Thomas Langley is the outsider. Some disapprove of him because he used to be a knight, and has killed people, by his own admission. But he's capable, does his job with quiet efficiency, never bullies the novices..."
His mother looked thoughtful. "What's his story? Why did he become a monk?"
Godwyn's apprehension began to ease. It seemed she was not going to berate him for inaction. "Thomas just says he always hankered for the sanctified life and, when he came here to get a sword wound attended to, he resolved never to leave."
"I remember that. It was ten years ago. But I never did hear how he got the wound."
"Nor I. He doesn't like to talk about his violent past."
"Who paid for his admission to the priory?"
"Oddly enough, I don't know." Godwyn often marvelled at his mother's ability to ask the revealing question. She might be tyrannical, but he had to admire her. "It might have been Bishop Richard - I recall him promising the usual gift. But he wouldn't have had the resources personally - he wasn't a bishop, then, just a priest. Perhaps he was speaking for Earl Roland."
"Find out."
Godwyn hesitated. He would have to look through all the charters in the priory's library. The librarian, Brother Augustine, would not presume to question the sacrist, but someone else might. Then Godwyn would have the awkwardness of inventing a plausible story to explain what he was doing. If the gift had been cash, rather than land or other property - unusual, but possible - he would have to go through the account rolls...
"What's the matter?" his mother said sharply.
"Nothing. You're right." He reminded himself that her domineering attitude was a sign of her love for him, perhaps the only way she knew how to express it. "There must be a record. Come to think of it..."
"What?"
"A gift like that is usually trumpeted. The prior announces it in church, and calls down blessings on the head of the donor, then preaches a sermon on how people who give lands to the priory are rewarded in heaven. But I don't remember anything like that happening at the time Thomas came to us."
"All the more reason to seek out the charter. I think Thomas is a man with a secret. And a secret is always a weakness."
"I'll look into it. What do you think I should say to people who want me to stand for election?"
Petranilla smiled slyly. "I think you should tell them you're not going to be a candidate."
Breakfast was over by the time Godwyn left his mother.
Latecomers were not allowed to eat, by a longstanding rule. But the kitchener, Brother Reynard, could always find a morsel for someone he liked. Godwyn went to the kitchen and got a slice of cheese and a heel of bread. He ate it standing up, while around him the priory servants brought the breakfast bowls back from the refectory and scrubbed out the iron pot in which the porridge had been cooked.
As he ate he mulled over his mother's advice. The more he thought about it, the cleverer it seemed. Once he had announced he would not stand for election, everything else he said would carry the authority of a disinterested commentator. He could manipulate the election without being suspected of selfish motives. Then he could make his move at the last moment. He felt a warm glow of loving gratitude for the shrewdness of his mother's restless brain, and the loyalty of her indomitable heart.
Brother Theodoric found him there. Theodoric's fair complexion was flushed with indignation. "Brother Simeon spoke to us at breakfast about Carlus becoming prior," he said. "It was all about continuing the wise traditions of Anthony. He's not going to change anything!"
That was sly, Godwyn thought. Simeon