Page 52 of A Column of Fire


Font Size:

Suddenly Ned felt they were being watched. He turned around. The south door of the cathedral was open, and Bishop Julius stood in the cloister, hands like claws on his bony hips, blue eyes glaring at them balefully. Ned felt guilty, though he had no reason to: priests had that effect, he had noticed.

Alice saw the bishop a moment later. She grunted with surprise. Then she muttered: ‘I suppose we might as well get this over with.’

Julius shouted indignantly: ‘What do you two think you’re doing here?’

‘Good day, my lord bishop.’ Alice walked towards him, and Ned followed. ‘I’m examining my property.’

‘What on earth do you mean?’

‘I own the priory now.’

‘No, you don’t. Sir Reginald does.’ The bishop’s cadaverous face registered scorn, but Ned could see that beneath the bluster he was worried.

‘Reginald pledged the priory to me as security for a loan he can’t repay. He bought the cargo of a ship called theSt Margaretthat has been confiscated by the French king, and he’ll never get his money back. So now the property becomes mine. Naturally, I want us to be good neighbours, bishop, and I look forward to discussing my plans—’

‘Wait a minute. You can’t enforce that pledge.’

‘On the contrary. Kingsbridge is a trading city with a reputation for respecting contracts. Our prosperity depends on that. So does yours.’

‘Reginald promised to sell the priory back to the Church – to which it rightfully belongs.’

‘Then Sir Reginald broke his promise to you when he pledged it as security for his loan. All the same, I’d be happy to sell the property to you, if that’s what you would like.’

Ned held his breath. He knew his mother did not really want to do this.

Alice went on: ‘Pay me the amount Reginald owes me, and the place is yours. Four hundred and twenty-four pounds.’

‘Four hundred and twenty-four?’ Bishop Julius repeated, as if there was something odd about the number.

‘Yes.’

The priory was worth more than that, Ned thought. If Julius had any sense he would snap up this offer. But perhaps he did not have the money.

The bishop said indignantly: ‘Reginald offered it to me at the price he paid for it – eighty pounds!’

‘That would have been a pious gift, not a business transaction.’

‘You should do the same.’

‘Reginald’s habit of selling things for less than they’re worth may be the reason he’s now penniless.’

The bishop shifted his ground. ‘What would you propose to do with these ruins?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Alice lied. ‘Let me develop some ideas, then come and talk to you.’ Ned guessed she did not want to give Julius the chance to start a campaign against the market even before the plans were finished.

‘Whatever you try to do, I’ll stop you.’

That was not going to happen, Ned thought. Every alderman on the council knew how badly the town needed more space for citizens to sell their goods. Several of them were desperate for premises themselves, and would be the first to rent space in the new market.

‘I hope we can work together,’ Alice said pacifically.

Julius said intemperately: ‘You could be excommunicated for this.’

Alice remained calm. ‘The Church has tried everything to get the monastic properties back, but Parliament won’t permit it.’

‘Sacrilege!’

‘The monks became rich, lazy and corrupt, and the people lost respect for them. That’s why King Henry was able to get away with dissolving the monasteries.’