Philip said: “Yes, but Jesus said to the adulteress: ‘Go, and sin no more.’ ” He turned to Remigius. “I take it you would withdraw your opposition if the adultery ceased.”
“Of course!” said Remigius.
Despite his anger and misery, Jack noticed that Philip had outmaneuvered Remigius neatly. He had made the adultery the decisive question, thereby sidestepping the whole issue of the new design. But Jack was not ready to go along with that. He said: “I’m not going to leave her!”
Philip said: “It might not be for long.”
Jack paused. That had taken him by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“You could marry Aliena if her first marriage was annulled.”
“Can that be done?”
“It should be automatic, if, as you say, the marriage was never consummated.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Apply to an ecclesiastical court. Normally it would be Bishop Waleran’s court, but in this case you probably should go straight to the archbishop of Canterbury.”
“And is the archbishop bound to agree?”
“In justice, yes.”
That was not a totally unequivocal answer, Jack noted. “But we would have to live apart meanwhile?”
“If you want to be appointed master builder of Kingsbridge Cathedral—yes.”
Jack said: “You’re asking me to choose between the two things I love most in all the world.”
Philip said: “Not for long.”
His voice made Jack look up sharply: there was real compassion in it. Jack realized Philip was genuinely sorry to have to do this. That made him less angry and more sad. He said: “How long?”
“It could be as much as a year.”
“A year!”
“You don’t have to live in different towns,” Philip said. “You can still see Aliena and the child.”
“Do you know she went to Spain to look for me?” Jack said. “Can you imagine that?” But the monks had no conception of what love was about. He said bitterly: “Now I must tell her we’ve got to live apart.”
Philip stood up and put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “The time will go by faster than you think, I promise you,” he said. “And you’ll be busy—building the new cathedral.”
II
The forest had grown and changed in eight years. Jack had thought he could never get lost in territory he had once known like the back of his hand, but he had been wrong. Old trails were overgrown, new ones had been trodden in the undergrowth by the deer and the boar and the wild ponies, streamlets had altered course, old trees had fallen and young ones were taller. Everything was diminished: distances seemed less and hills not so steep. Most striking of all, he felt a stranger here. When a young deer gazed at him, startled, across a glade, Jack could not guess which family the deer belonged to or where its dam was. When a flight of ducks took off, he did not instantly know what stretch of water they had risen from and why. And he was nervous, for he had no idea where the outlaws were.
He had ridden most of the way here from Kingsbridge, but he had to dismount as soon as he left the main road, for the trees grew too low over the trail to permit him to ride. Returning to the haunts of his boyhood made him feel irrationally sad. He had never appreciated, because he had never realized, how simple life had been then. His greatest passion had been for strawberries, and he had known that every summer, for a few days, there would be as many as he could eat, growing on the forest floor. Nowadays everything was problematical: his combative friendship with Prior Philip; his frustrated love for Aliena; his towering ambition to build the most beautiful cathedral in the world; his burning need to find out the truth about his father.
He wondered how much his mother had changed in the two years he had been away. He was looking forward eagerly to seeing her again. He had coped perfectly well on his own, of course, but it was very reassuring to have someone in your life who was always ready to fight for you, and he had missed that comforting feeling.
It had taken him all day to reach the part of the forest where he and she used to live. Now the short winter afternoon was darkening rapidly. Soon he would have to give up the search for their old cave, and concentrate on finding a sheltered place in which to spend the night. It would be cold. Why am I worried? he thought. I used to spend every night in the forest.
In the end she found him.
He was on the point of giving up. A narrow, almost invisible track through the vegetation, probably used only by badgers and foxes, petered out in a thicket. There was nothing to do but retrace his steps. He turned his horse around and almost walked into her.
“You’ve forgotten how to move quietly in the forest,” she said. “I could hear you crashing around a mile away.”
