Tom was very conscious of the depth of Philip’s clemency in pardoning Ellen. It was quite something for a monk to forgive what she had done. And it meant so much to Tom. When she went away, his joy at building the cathedral had been shadowed by loneliness. Now that she was back, he felt complete. She was still willful, maddening, quarrelsome and intolerant, but somehow these things were trifling: there was a passion inside her that burned like a candle in a lantern, and it lit up his life.

Tom and Philip watched a race in which the boys had to walk on their hands: Jack won it. “That boy is exceptional,” Philip said.

“Not many people can walk that fast on their hands,” Tom said.

Philip laughed. “Indeed-but I wasn’t thinking about his acrobatic skill.”

“I know.” Jack’s cleverness had long been a source of both pleasure and pain to Tom. Jack had a lively curiosity about building-something Alfred had always lacked-and Tom enjoyed teaching Jack the tricks of the trade. But Jack had no sense of tact, and would argue with his elders. It was often better to conceal one’s superiority, but Jack had not learned that yet, not even after years of persecution by Alfred.

“The boy should be educated,” Philip went on.

Tom frowned. Jack was being educated. He was an apprentice. “What do you mean?”

“He should learn to write a good hand, and study Latin grammar, and read the ancient philosophers.”

Tom was even more puzzled. “To what end? He’s going to be a mason.”

Philip looked him in the eye. “Are you sure?” he said. “He’s a boy who doesn’t do what he’s expected to.”

Tom had never considered this. There were youngsters who defied expectations: earls’ sons who refused to fight, royal children who entered monasteries, peasants’ bastards who became bishops. It was true, Jack was the type. “Well, what do you think he will do?” he said.

“It depends on what he learns,” Philip said. “But I want him for the Church.”

Torn was surprised: Jack seemed such an unlikely clergyman. Tom was also a little wounded, in a strange way. He was looking forward to Jack’s becoming a master mason, and he would be terribly disappointed if the boy chose another course in life.

Philip did not notice Tom’s unhappiness. He went on: “God needs the best and the brightest young men to work for him. Look at those apprentices, competing to see who can jump the highest. All of them are capable of being carpenters, or masons, or stone cutters. But how many of them could be a bishop? Only one-Jack.”

That was true, Tom thought. If Jack had the chance of a career in the Church, with a powerful patron in Philip, he should probably take it, for it would lead to much greater wealth and power than he could hope for as a mason. Reluctantly Tom said: “What have you got in mind, exactly?”

“I want Jack to become a novice monk.”

“A monk!” It seemed an even more unlikely calling than the priesthood for Jack. The boy chafed at the discipline of a building site-how would he cope with the monastic rule?

“He would spend most of his time studying,” Philip said. “He would learn everything our novice-master can teach him, and I would give him lessons myself as well.”

When a boy became a monk, it was normal for the parents to make a generous donation to the monastery. Tom wondered what this proposal would cost.

Philip guessed his thoughts. “I wouldn’t expect you to present a gift to the priory,” he said. “It will be enough that you give a son to God.”

What Philip did not know was that Tom had already given one son to the priory: little Jonathan, who was now paddling at the edge of the river with his robe once again hoisted up around his waist. However, Tom knew he should suppress his own feelings in this. Philip’s proposal was generous: he obviously wanted Jack badly. The offer was a tremendous opportunity for Jack. A father would give his right arm to be able to set a son on such a career. Tom suffered a twinge of resentment that it was his stepson, rather than Alfred, who was being given this marvelous chance. The feeling was unworthy and he suppressed it. He should be glad, and encourage Jack, and hope the lad would learn to reconcile himself to the monastic regime.

“It should be done soon,” Philip added. “Before he falls in love with some girl.”

Tom nodded. Across the meadow, the women’s race was reaching its climax. Tom watched, thinking. After a moment he realized that Ellen was in the lead. Aliena was hard on her heels, but when they got to the finish line Ellen was still a little ahead. She raised her hands in a victory gesture.

Tom pointed at her. “It’s not me who needs to be persuaded,” he said to Philip. “It’s her.”

Aliena was surprised to have been beaten by Ellen. Ellen was very young to be the mother of a seventeen-year-old, but still she had to be at least ten years older than Aliena. They smiled at one another now, as they stood panting and sweating at the finish line. Aliena observed that Ellen had lean, muscular brown legs and a compact figure. All those years of living in the forest had made her tough.

Jack came up to congratulate his mother on winning. They were very fond of one another, Aliena could tell. They looked completely different: Ellen was a tanned brunette, with deep-set golden-brown eyes, and Jack was a redhead with blue eyes. He must be like his father, Aliena thought. Nothing was ever said about Jack’s father, Ellen’s first husband. Perhaps they were ashamed of him.

As she looked at the two of them together, it occurred to Aliena that Jack must remind Ellen of the husband she had lost. That might be why she was so fond of him. Perhaps the son was, as it were, all she had left of a man she had adored. A physical resemblance could be inordinately powerful in that way. Aliena’s brother, Richard, sometimes reminded her of their father, with a look or a gesture, and that was when she felt a surge of affection; although it did not prevent her from wishing that Richard was more like his father in character.

She knew she ought not to be dissatisfied with Richard. He went to war and fought bravely, and that was all that was required of him. But she was dissatisfied a lot these days. She had wealth and security, a home and servants, fine clothes, pretty jewels, and a position of respect in the town. If anyone had asked her she would have said she was happy. But beneath the surface there was an undercurrent of restlessness. She never lost her enthusiasm for her work, but some mornings she wondered if it mattered what gown she put on and whether she wore jewelry. Nobody cared how she looked, so why should she? Paradoxically, she had become more conscious of her body. As she walked around, she could feel her breasts move. When she went down to the women’s beach at the riverside to bathe, she felt embarrassed about how hairy she was. Sitting on her horse she was aware of the parts of her body that were touching the saddle. It was quite peculiar. It was as if there were a snooper peeking at her all the time, trying to look through her clothes and see her naked, and the snooper was herself. She was invading her own privacy.

She lay down on the grass, puffed out. Perspiration ran between her breasts and down the insides of her thighs. Impatiently she turned her mind to a more immediate problem. She had not sold all her wool this year. It was not her fault: most of the merchants had been left with unsold fleece, and so had Prior Philip. Philip was very calm about the whole thing but Aliena was anxious. What was she to do with all this wool? She could keep it until next year, of course. But what if she failed to sell it again? She did not know how long it took raw wool to deteriorate. She had a feeling it might dry out, becoming brittle and difficult to work.

If things went badly wrong she would be unable to support Richard. Being a knight was a very expensive business. The war-horse, which had cost twenty pounds, had lost its nerve after the battle of Lincoln and was now next to useless; soon he would want another one. Aliena could afford it, but it made a big dent in her resources. He was embarrassed about being dependent upon her-it was not the usual situation for a knight-and he had hoped to make enough in plunder to support himself, but lately he had been on the losing side. If he was to regain the earldom, Aliena had to continue to prosper.