Ken Follett - World Without End

“Offer him a better prospect. Tell him I want him to build a new palace for me here at Earlscastle.”

Ralph was excited to get a special commission from the earl, but he was daunted too. He had never been able to talk Merthin into anything – it was always the other way around. “All right,” he said.

“Will they be able to go ahead without him?”

“He got the job because no one else in Kingsbridge knew how to build under water.”

Richard said: “He’s not the only man in England who can design a bridge, obviously.”

William said: “Still, taking away their builder would surely delay them. They probably couldn’t start for another year.”

“Then it’s worth doing,” Roland said decisively. A look of hatred came over the animated half of his face, and he added: “That arrogant prior has to be put in his place.”

Things had changed in the life of Gerald and Maud, Ralph discovered. His mother wore a new green dress to church, and his father had leather shoes. Back at home there was a goose stuffed with apples roasting over the fire, filling the little house with a mouth-watering smell, and a loaf of wheat bread, the most expensive kind, standing on the table.

The money came from Merthin, Ralph soon learned. “He gets paid four pence a day every day he works on St Mark’s,” Maud said proudly. “And he’s building a new house for Dick Brewer. That’s as well as getting ready to build the new bridge.”

Merthin received a lower wage for working on the bridge, he explained while his father carved the goose, because he had been given Leper Island in part payment. The last remaining leper, old and bedridden, had been moved to a small house in the monks’ orchard on the far side of the river.

Ralph found that his mother’s evident happiness left a sour taste in his mouth. He had believed, since he was a boy, that the destiny of the family lay in his hands. He had been sent away, at the age of fourteen, to join the household of the earl of Shiring, and he had known even then that it was up to him to wipe out his father’s humiliation by becoming a knight, perhaps a baron, even an earl. Merthin, by contrast, had been apprenticed to a carpenter, and set on a road that could only lead farther down the social hill. Builders were never made knights.

It was some consolation that their father was unimpressed by Merthin’s success. He showed signs of impatience when Maud talked about building projects. “My elder son seems to have inherited the blood of Jack Builder, my only low-born ancestor,” he said, and his tone was amazed rather than proud. “But, Ralph, tell us how you’re getting on at the court of Earl Roland.”

Unfortunately, Ralph had so far mysteriously failed to rise in the nobility, whereas Merthin was buying his parents new clothes and expensive dinners. Ralph knew he should just be grateful that one of them had won success, and that even if his parents remained humble they could at least be comfortable. But, though his mind told him to rejoice, his heart seethed with resentment.

And now he had to persuade his brother to give up the bridge. The trouble with Merthin was that he would never see anything simply. He was not like the knights and squires with whom Ralph had spent the last seven years. They were fighting men. In their world loyalties were clear, bravery was the virtue, and the issue was life or death. There was never much need for deep thought. But Menhin thought about everything. He could not play a game of chequers without suggesting a change in the rules.

He was explaining to their parents why he had accepted four acres of barren rock in part payment for his work on the bridge. “Everyone thinks the land is worthless because it’s an island,” he said. “What they don’t realize is that when the bridge is built the island will become part of the city. Townspeople will walk across the bridge just as they walk along the main street. And four acres of city land is very valuable. If I build houses on it, the rents will be worth a fortune.”

Gerald said: “You’ve a few years to wait before then.”

“I’m getting some income from it already. Jake Chepstow is renting half an acre to use as a timber yard. He’s bringing logs from Wales.”

“Why from Wales?” Gerald asked. “The New Forest is nearer – their wood should be cheaper.”

“It should be, but the earl of Shaftesbury charges a toll or a tax at every river ford and bridge in his territory.”

It was a familiar gripe. Many lords found ways to tax goods that passed through their territories.

As they started to eat, Ralph said to Merthin: “I bring you news of another opportunity. The earl wants to build a new palace at Earlscastle.”

Merthin looked suspicious. “He sent you to ask me to design it?”

“I suggested you. Lady Philippa was berating him about how old-fashioned the keep is, and I said I knew the right person to talk to.”

Maud was thrilled. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

Merthin remained sceptical. “And the earl said he wanted me?”

“Yes.”

“Amazing. A few months ago I couldn’t get a job. Now I’ve got too much to do. And Earlscastle is two days away. I don’t see how I could build a palace there and a bridge here at the same time.”

“Oh, you’ll have to give up the bridge,” Ralph said.

“What?”

“Work for the earl has to take precedence over everything else, naturally.”

“I’m not sure that’s right.”

“Take it from me.”

“Did he say that?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he did.”

Their father joined in. “This is a marvellous opportunity, Merthin,” he said. “To build a palace for an earl!”

“Of course it is,” Merthin replied. “But a bridge for this town is at least as important.”

“Don’t be stupid,” his father said.

“I do my best not to be,” Merthin said sarcastically.

“The earl of Shiring is one of the great men of the land. The prior of Kingsbridge is a nobody, by comparison.”

Ralph cut a slice of goose thigh and put it in his mouth, but he could hardly swallow. He had been afraid of this. Merthin was going to be difficult. He would not take orders from their father, either. He had never been obedient, even as a child.

Ralph felt desperate. “Listen,” he said. “The earl doesn’t want the new bridge to be built. He thinks it will take business away from Shiring.”

“Aha,” said Gerald. “You don’t want to go up against the earl, Merthin.”

“Is that what’s behind this, Ralph?” Merthin asked. “Is Roland offering me this job just to prevent the building of the bridge?”

“Not just for that reason.”

“But it’s a condition. If I want to build his palace, I must abandon the bridge.”

Gerald said with exasperation: “You don’t have a choice, Merthin! The earl doesn’t request, he commands.”

Ralph could have told him that an argument based on authority was not the way to persuade Merthin.

Merthin said: “I don’t think he can command the prior of Kingsbridge, who has commissioned me to build this bridge.”

“But he can command you.”

“Can he? He’s not my lord.”

“Don’t be foolish, son. You can’t win a fight with an earl.”

“I don’t think Roland’s quarrel is with me, Father. This is between the earl and the prior. Roland wants to use me, as a hunter uses a dog, but I think I’d do better to stay out of the fight.”

“I think you should do what the earl says. Don’t forget, he’s your kinsman, too.”

Merthin tried a different argument. “Has it occurred to you what a betrayal this would be of Prior Godwyn?”

Gerald made a disgusted noise. “What loyalty do we owe the priory? It was the monks who forced us into penury.”