There was another, smaller tower at the southeast corner. Now Philip and Stephen had walked around three sides of the square. Philip wondered if Stephen had forgotten his question. He was apprehensive about asking it again. The king might feel he was being pushed, and take offense.

They reached the main street that went through the middle of the town and turned again, but before Philip had time to feel relieved they passed through another gate into the inner city, and a few moments later they were in the no-man’s-land between cathedral and castle. To Philip’s horror the king stopped there.

He turned to talk to Philip, positioning himself in such a way that he could scrutinize the castle over Philip’s shoulder. Philip’s vulnerable back, clad in ermine and purple, was exposed to the gatehouse which was bristling with sentries and archers. He went as stiff as a statue, expecting an arrow or a spear in his back at any moment. He began to perspire despite the freezing cold wind.

“I gave you that quarry years ago, didn’t I?” said King Stephen.

“Not exactly,” Philip replied through gritted teeth. “You gave us the right to take stone for the cathedral. But you gave the quarry to Percy Hamleigh. Now Percy’s son, William, has thrown out my stonecutters, killing five people-including a woman and a child-and he refuses us access.”

“He shouldn’t do things like that, especially if he wants me to make him earl of Shiring,” Stephen said thoughtfully. Philip was encouraged. But a moment later the king said: “I’m damned if I can see a way to get into this castle.”

“Please make William reopen the quarry,” Philip said. “He is defying you and stealing from God.”

Stephen seemed not to hear. “I don’t think they’ve got many men in there,” he said in the same musing tone. “I suspect nearly all of them are on the ramparts, to make a show of strength. What was that about a market?”

This was all part of the test, Philip decided; making him stand out in the open with his back to a host of archers. He wiped his brow with the fur cuff of the king’s cloak. “My lord king, every Sunday people come from all over the county to worship at Kingsbridge and labor, for no wages, on the cathedral building site. When we first began, a few enterprising men and women would come to the site and sell meat pies, and wine, and hats, and knives, to the volunteer workers. So, gradually, a market grew up. And now I am asking you to license it.”

“Will you pay for your license?”

A payment was normal, Philip knew, but he also knew that it might be waived for a religious body. “Yes, lord, I will pay-unless you would wish to give us the license without payment, for the greater glory of God.”

Stephen looked directly into Philip’s eyes for the first time. “You’re a brave man, to stand there, with the enemy behind you, and bargain with me.”

Philip gave back an equally frank stare. “If God decides my life is over, nothing can save me,” he said, sounding braver than he felt. “But if God wants me to live on and build Kingsbridge Cathedral, ten thousand archers cannot strike me down.”

“Well said!” Stephen remarked, and, clapping a hand on Philip’s shoulder, he turned toward the cathedral. Weak with relief, Philip walked beside him, feeling better for every step away from the castle. He seemed to have passed the test. But it was important to get an unambiguous commitment from the king. Any moment now he would be engulfed by courtiers again. As they passed through the line of sentries, Philip took his courage in both hands and said: “My lord king, if you would write a letter to the sheriff of Shiring-”

He was interrupted. One of the earls rushed up, looking flustered, and said: “Robert of Gloucester is on his way here, my lord king.”

“What? How far away?”

“Close. A day at most-”

“Why haven’t I been warned? I posted men all around!”

“They came by the Fosse Way, then turned off the road to approach across open country.”

“Who is with him?”

“All the earls and knights on his side who have lost their lands in the last two years. Ranulf of Chester is also with him-”

“Of course. Treacherous dog.”

“He has brought all his knights from Chester, plus a horde of wild rapacious Welshmen.”

“How many men altogether?”

“About a thousand.”

“Damn-that’s a hundred more than we have.”

By this time several barons had gathered around, and now another one spoke. “Lord, if he’s coming across open country, he’ll have to cross the river at the ford-”

“Good thinking, Edward!” Stephen said. “Take your men down to that ford and see if you can hold it. You’ll need archers, too.”

“How far are they now, does anybody know?” asked Edward.

The first earl said: “Very close, the scout said. They could reach the ford before you.”

“I’ll go right away,” Edward said.

“Good man!” said King Stephen. He made a fist with his right hand and punched his left palm. “I shall meet Robert of Gloucester on the battlefield at last. I wish I had more men. Still-an advantage of a hundred men isn’t much.”

Philip listened to it all in grim silence. He was sure he had been on the point of getting Stephen’s agreement. Now the king’s mind was elsewhere. But Philip was not ready to give up. He was still wearing the king’s purple robe. He slipped it off his shoulders and held it out, saying: “Perhaps we should both revert to type, my lord king.”

Stephen nodded absently. A courtier stepped behind the king and helped him take off the monkish habit. Philip handed over the royal robe and said: “Lord, you seemed well disposed to my request.”

Stephen looked irritated to be reminded. He shrugged on his robe and was about to speak when a new voice was heard.

“My lord king!”

Philip recognized the voice. His heart sank. He turned and saw William Hamleigh.

“William, my boy!” said the king, in the hearty voice he used with fighting men. “You’ve arrived just in time!”

William bowed and said: “My lord, I’ve brought fifty knights and two hundred men from my earldom.”

Philip’s hopes turned to dust.

Stephen was visibly delighted. “What a good man you are!” he said warmly. “That gives us the advantage over the enemy!” He put his arm around William’s shoulders and walked with him into the cathedral.

Philip stood where he was and watched them go. He had been agonizingly close to success, but in the end William’s army had counted for more than justice, he thought bitterly. The courtier who had helped the king take off the monk’s habit now held the robe out to Philip. Philip took it. The courtier followed the king and his entourage into the cathedral. Philip put on his monastic robe. He was deeply disappointed. He looked at the three huge arched doorways of the cathedral. He had hoped to build archways like that at Kingsbridge. But King Stephen had taken the side of William Hamleigh. The king had been faced with a straight choice: the justice of Philip’s case against the advantage of William’s army. He had failed his test.

Philip was left with only one hope: that King Stephen would be defeated in the forthcoming battle.