The handle was turned again, then there was the sound of a bump as the door hit the chest that was an inch away.
Margery said loudly: ‘Go away!’
She heard a grunt outside, like that of a man making an effort, and then the chest moved.
Peggy screamed.
Margery leaped off the bed.
The chest scraped across the floor, the door opened wide enough for a man to enter, and Swithin came in in his nightshirt.
Mick barked at him. Swithin kicked out and caught the dog’s chest with his foot. Mick gave a terrified whimper and darted out through the gap.
Swithin saw Peggy and said: ‘Get out, before I give you a kicking too.’
Peggy fled.
Swithin stepped closer to Margery.
She drew the knife from her belt and said: ‘If you don’t go away, I’ll kill you.’
Swithin lashed out with his left arm, a sweeping motion that struck Margery’s right wrist with the force of a hammer. The knife went flying from her grasp. He grabbed her upper arms, lifted her off the floor effortlessly, and threw her back onto the bed. Then he climbed on top of her.
‘Open your legs,’ he said. ‘You know you want to.’
‘I hate you,’ she said.
He raised his fist. ‘Open your legs, or I’ll punch you in the same place again.’
She could not bear for her face to be touched, and she felt that if he punched her she would die. She began to weep, helplessly, and parted her thighs.
*
ROLLOFITZGERALDdid all he could to keep tabs on the Kingsbridge Puritans. His main source of information was Donal Gloster, Dan Cobley’s chief clerk. Donal had a dual motivation: he hated the Cobley family for spurning him as a suitor for their daughter, and he was greedy for Rollo’s money because Dan underpaid him.
Rollo met Donal regularly at a tavern called the Cock at Gallows Cross. The place was in fact a brothel, so Rollo was able to rent a private room where they could talk unobserved. If any of the girls gossiped about their meetings, people would assume they were homosexual lovers. That was a sin and a crime, but men who were on gossiping terms with prostitutes were not generally in any position to make accusations.
‘Dan is angry about Dean Luke being made bishop,’ Donal said one day in the autumn of 1563. ‘The Puritans think Luke turns whichever way the wind blows.’
‘They’re right,’ Rollo said contemptuously. Changing your beliefs with every change of monarch was called ‘policy’, and people who did it were ‘politicians’. Rollo hated them. ‘I expect the queen chose Luke for his malleability. Who did Dan want for bishop?’
‘Father Jeremiah.’
Rollo nodded. Jeremiah was parson of St John’s in Loversfield, a southern neighbourhood of Kingsbridge. He had always been a reformer, though he had stayed in the Church. He would have made an extreme Protestant bishop, highly intolerant of people who missed the old ways. ‘Thank heaven Dan didn’t get his way.’
‘He hasn’t given up.’
‘What do you mean? The decision is made. The queen has announced it. Luke will be consecrated the day after tomorrow.’
‘Dan has plans. That’s why I asked to see you. You’ll be interested.’
‘Go on.’
‘For the consecration of a new bishop, the clergy always bring out St Adolphus.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Kingsbridge Cathedral had possessed the bones of St Adolphus for centuries. They were kept in a jewelled reliquary that was on display in the chancel. Pilgrims came from all over Western Europe to pray to the saint for health and good fortune. ‘But perhaps Luke will leave the bones where they are this time.’
Donal shook his head. ‘Luke is going to bring them out for the procession, because that’s what the people of Kingsbridge want. He says no one is worshipping the bones, so it’s not idolatry. They are just revering the memory of the holy man.’
