Кэндис Робб - The Lady Chapel

I thank Michael Denneny for enthusiastic feedback; Lynne Drew for a critical reading that helped clarify things; Paul Zibton for the map; Walden Barcus and Karen Wuthrich for thoughtful readings; Evan Marshall for being everything an agent should be; Keith Kahla and John Clark for all their good humored help behind the lines; and Charlie Robb for publicity.

Research for this book was conducted on location in Yorkshire and in the libraries of the University of York, the University of Washington, King County, Washington, and the city of Seattle.

And many thanks to my support group that includes The Book Club, Paula Moreschi’s Physical Culture regulars, my family from coast to coast, and most of all the person who never lets me down, Charlie Robb.

archdeacon: each diocese was divided into two or more archdeaconries; the archdeacons were appointed by the archbishop or bishop and carried out most of his duties

bedstraw: a plant of the genus Galium , used in pillows to induce sleep

butt: a mark or mound for archery practice

crowd: a type of medieval fiddle, primarily Welsh (see Author’s Note )

jongleur: a minstrel who sang, juggled, tumbled; French term, but widely used in an England where Norman French was just fading from prevalence

Lady Chapel: a chapel dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, usually situated at the east end of the church

leman: mistress

liberty: an area of the city immune from royal administration; each liberty had jurisdiction for crimes committed in it and contained its own courthouse, jail, and gallows; Liberty of St. Peter is the minster area, under jurisdiction of the Archbishop of York

mercer: dealer in textiles, especially wool

minster: a large church or cathedral; the cathedral of St. Peter in York is referred to as York Minster

pandemain: the finest quality white bread, from flour sifted two or three times

pillory: a wooden frame, supported by an upright pillar or post, with holes through which the head and hands were put as a punishment

rebec: a medieval instrument of the viol class (see Author’s Note )

reredorter: in an abbey, part of the dormitory or a separate building nearby that houses latrines flushed by channels of running water

Town Waits: musicians employed by a town to play on ceremonial occasions (see Author’s Note )

trencher: a thick slice of brown bread a few days old with a slight hollow in the center, used as a plate

wastel: first-quality white bread from well-sifted flour; not as fine as pandemain

Corpus Christi Day dawned mild and sunny, answering the prayers of the guildsmen of York, and of all who looked forward to the Corpus Christi pageants. Many saw the dawn, for the plays began with the blessing of the players on the porch of Holy Trinity Church, Micklegate, before dawn, followed immediately by the first performance of the day as the sun rose. Twelve stations had been marked the evening before by banners displaying the arms of the city. Here the audiences would gather. The pageant wagons, over forty of them, would wind their way through the streets, stopping at each station to perform for the waiting people. It would be a long day for the guild members and other players, ending after midnight – a glorious day in which the history of mankind’s salvation by Christ’s sacrifice was brought to life, from the fall of the angels to the Last Judgment.

The Mercers’ pageant wagon had just left the station beyond Ouse Bridge, heading for the stands in St. Helen’s Square. It was the last wagon; on it was played out “The Last Judgment.” Young Jasper de Melton trotted along beside the pageant wagon with his greasehorn, trying to take in all the sights and sounds of the day while listening for the creaking of the wagon wheels, his signal to slather on grease. It was an important job for a boy of eight. The large wooden wheels would soon come to a halt on the narrow, uneven streets without constant attention. Jasper was proud of his responsibility – and for the play of the Mercers’ Guild no less, the richest guild in York. This was a step toward his acceptance as an apprentice in the guild, an honor that thrilled him and filled his mother with pride and hope for a better life for her son than she had been able to provide as a widow. Kristine de Melton had made Jasper a new leather jerkin for this important day.

Jasper should see his mother soon. She had promised to wait at the station in St. Helen’s Square, in front of the York Tavern.

As the wagon trundled toward the square, Jasper saw a red-faced man step close, calling out to Master Crounce. The flaps of the performer’s tent opened and tall, lanky Will Crounce jumped down off the wagon, almost knocking Jasper over, and joined the heavyset man, slapping him on the back.

“Why are you not in the pageant at Beverley, my friend?” Crounce asked.

“Me?” The heavyset man laughed. “I have no gift for yelling myself red in the face a dozen times in one day.”

The two turned and walked away, heads close together. Jasper was surprised. What if Master Crounce lost track of time and missed his turn in the play? He played Jesus. His absence would be noticed. It made Jasper nervous just to think of it, for Master Crounce was the man who had sponsored him for his job today and was sponsoring him as an apprentice in a few weeks. Dishonor to him meant dishonor to Jasper.

“Boy!” an elderly actor called out. “Wheel be squealing like stuck pig.”

Jasper flushed and hurried to do his job. He must keep his mind on the wheels. He would only get in trouble worrying about other folk.

As Jasper rounded the front of the wagon, hurrying out of its way, he saw that the Mercers were next to perform. Squinting against the sun, Jasper searched the crowd outside the York Tavern. At first he did not see his mother. And then there she was, waving and calling his name. He waved back, grateful that he’d been hard at work when she spotted him. He would hate to disappoint her.

With a grinding shudder, the long, heavy wagon came to a halt. A small band of Town Waits played a flourish, and the actors came out from the tent. All but Master Crounce. Jasper bit his nails. Master Crounce must have heard the flourish. But where was he? The actors moved to their places. At last, just as his fellows had begun to murmur about his absence, Master Crounce jumped onto the wagon from behind and climbed to his perch, a rickety platform that would lower him from Heaven to Earth after his first speech.

The crowd hushed as God the Father began. Always they chose an actor with a bass voice for the part.

The player’s voice rumbled like distant thunder. God would sound like this, Jasper thought.