Philip felt a glow of joy. “Come on, then,” he said. “Get on my horse.”

Remigius looked flabbergasted.

Jonathan said: “Father! What are you doing?”

Philip said to Remigius: “Go on, do as I say.”

Jonathan was horrified. “But, Father, how will you travel?”

“I’ll walk,” Philip said happily. “One of us must.”

“Let Remigius walk!” Jonathan said in a tone of outrage.

“Let him ride,” Philip said. “He’s pleased God today.”

“What about you? Haven’t you pleased God more than Remigius?”

“Jesus said there’s more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people,” Philip countered. “Don’t you remember the parable of the prodigal son? When he came home, his father killed the fatted calf. The angels are rejoicing over Remigius’s tears. The least I can do is give him my horse.”

He took the bridle and led the way over the waste ground to the road. Jonathan followed. When they reached the road, Jonathan dismounted and said: “Please, Father, take my horse, then, and let me walk!”

Philip turned to him and spoke a little sternly. “Now get back on your horse, stop arguing with me, and just think about what is being done and why.”

Jonathan looked puzzled, but he mounted again, and said no more.

They turned toward Kingsbridge. It was twenty miles away. Philip began to walk. He felt wonderful. The return of Remigius more than compensated for the quarry. I lost in court, he thought, but that was only about stones. What I gained was something infinitely more valuable.

Today I won a man’s soul.

III

New ripe apples floated in the barrel, shining red and yellow while the sun glinted off the water. Sally, nine years old and excitable, leaned over the rim of the barrel with her hands clasped behind her back and tried to pick up an apple in her teeth. The apple bobbed away, her face plunged into the water, and she came away spluttering and squealing with laughter. Aliena smiled thinly and wiped her little girl’s face.

It was a warm afternoon in late summer, a saint’s day and a holiday, and most of the town had gathered in the meadow across the river for the apple bobbing. This was the kind of occasion that Aliena had always enjoyed, but the fact that it would be her last saint’s day in Kingsbridge was constantly on her mind, weighing down her spirits. She was still determined to leave Jack, but since she had made the decision she had begun to feel, in advance, the pain of loss.

Tommy was hovering near the barrel, and Jack called out: “Go on, Tommy-have a go!”

“Not just yet,” he replied.

At the age of eleven Tommy knew he was smarter than his sister and he thought he was ahead of most other people too. He watched for a while, studying the technique of those who were successful at apple bobbing. Aliena watched him watching. She loved him specially. Jack had been about this age when she had first met him, and Tommy was so like Jack as a boy. Looking at him made her nostalgic for childhood. Jack wanted Tommy to be a builder, but Tommy had not yet shown any interest in construction. However, there was plenty of time.

Eventually he stepped up to the barrel. He bent over it and put his head down slowly, mouth wide open. He pushed his chosen apple under the surface, submerging his whole face, and then came up triumphantly with the apple between his teeth.

Tommy would be successful at whatever he put his mind to. There was a little of his grandfather, Earl Bartholomew, in his makeup. He had a very strong will and a somewhat inflexible sense of right and wrong.

It was Sally who had inherited Jack’s easygoing nature and contempt for man-made rules. When Jack told the children stories, Sally always sympathized with the underdog, whereas Tommy was more likely to pronounce judgment on him. Each child had the personality of one parent and the appearance of the other: happy-go-lucky Sally had Aliena’s regular features and dark tangled curls, and determined Tommy had Jack’s carrot-colored hair, white skin and blue eyes.

Now Tommy cried: “Here comes Uncle Richard!”

Aliena spun around and followed his gaze. Sure enough, her brother the earl was riding into the meadow with a handful of knights and squires. Aliena was horrified. How did he have the nerve to show his face here after what he had done to Philip over the quarry?

He came over to the barrel, smiling at everyone and shaking hands. “Try to bob an apple, Uncle Richard,” said Tommy. “You could do it!”

Richard dipped his head into the barrel and came up with an apple in his strong white teeth and his blond beard soaking wet. He had always been better at games than at real life, Aliena thought.

She was not going to let him carry on as if he had done nothing wrong. Others might be afraid to say anything because he was the earl, but to her he was just her foolish little brother. He came over to kiss her, but she pushed him away and said: “How could you steal the quarry from the priory?”

Jack, seeing a quarrel coming, took the children’s hands and moved away.

Richard looked stung. “All property has reverted to those who possessed it-”

“Don’t give me that, Aliena interrupted. “After all Philip has done for you!”

“The quarry is part of my birthright,” he said. He took her aside and began to speak in low tones so that no one else could hear. “Besides, I need the money I get by selling the stones, Allie.”

“That’s because you go hunting and hawking all the time!”

“But what should I do?”

“You should make the land produce wealth! There’s so much to be done-repairing the damage caused by the war and the famine, bringing in new farming methods, clearing woodland and draining swamps-that’s how to increase your wealth! Not by stealing the quarry that King Stephen gave to Kingsbridge Priory.”

“I’ve never taken anything that wasn’t mine.”

“You’ve never done anything else!” Aliena flared. She was angry enough now to say things that were better left unsaid. “You’ve never worked for anything. You took my money for your stupid weapons, you took the job Philip gave you, you took the earldom when it was handed to you on a plate by me. Now you can’t even run it without taking things that don’t belong to you!” She turned away and stormed off.

Richard came after her, but someone waylaid him, bowing and asking him how he was. Aliena heard him make a polite reply, then get embroiled in a conversation. So much the better: she had said her piece and did not want to argue with him any further. She reached the bridge and looked back. Someone else was talking to him now. He waved at her, indicating that he still wanted to speak to her, but he was stuck. She saw Jack, Tommy and Sally beginning a game with a stick and a ball. She stared at them, playing together in the sunshine, and she felt she could not bear to separate them. But how else, she thought, can I lead a normal life?

She crossed the bridge and entered the town. She wanted to be alone for a while.

She had taken a house in Winchester, a big place with a shop on the ground floor, a living room upstairs, a separate bedchamber, and a large storeroom at the end of the yard for her cloth. But the closer she got to moving, the less she wanted to do it.

The streets of Kingsbridge were hot and dusty, and the air was full of the flies that bred on the innumerable dunghills. All the shops were closed and the houses were locked up. The town was deserted. Everyone was in the meadow.

She went to Jack’s house. That was where the others would come when the apple bobbing was over. The door of the house stood open. She frowned in annoyance. Who had left it like that? Too many people had keys: herself, Jack, Richard and Martha. There was nothing much to steal. Aliena certainly did not have her money there: for years now Philip had let her keep it in the priory treasury. But the place would be full of flies.