Ken Follett - A Column of Fire

Tomorrow was Sunday, and people would be exchanging news at church, Rollo reflected. By the evening everyone in Kingsbridge would know what had happened to the St Margaret . They might sympathize, like Susan, or they might think Sir Reginald was a fool to let himself be cheated, but either way they would regard the Fitzgeralds with a mixture of pity and scorn. Rollo could hear them being wise after the event, saying: ‘That Philbert’s a sly one. He never sold anyone a bargain. Sir Reginald should have known that.’ The thought made Rollo cringe. He hated the idea of people looking down on his family.

But they would change their tune when Philbert was arrested for heresy. It would be seen as Philbert’s punishment. People would say: ‘It doesn’t pay to swindle Sir Reginald — Philbert should have known that.’ The honour of the family would be restored, and once again Rollo’s chest would swell with pride when he told people his name.

If he could get Donal to talk.

Rollo led the way to a small house beyond the docks. The woman who opened the door had Donal’s sensual good looks. She recognized Osmund and said: ‘Mercy! What’s my boy done?’

Rollo pushed past her into the house, and Osmund followed.

‘I’m sorry he got drunk,’ she said. ‘He suffered a terrible disappointment.’

Rollo said: ‘Is your husband at home?’

‘He’s dead.’

Rollo had forgotten that. It made things easier. ‘Where’s Donal?’

‘I’ll fetch him.’ She turned away.

Rollo caught her arm. ‘When I speak to you, you must listen to what I say. I didn’t tell you to get him. I asked you where he is.’

Her brown eyes flashed anger, and for a moment R0llo thought she was going to tell him she would do as she pleased in her own house; then she got herself under control, no doubt fearing that defiance would make things worse for her son. Eyes downcast, she said: ‘In bed. First door at the top of the stairs.’

‘You wait here. Osmund, come with me.’

Donal was prone on the bed, fully dressed except for his boots. There was a smell of puke, though it seemed his mother might have cleaned up the worst of it. Rollo shook him awake. He came round blearily. When he saw Osmund he sat bolt upright and said: ‘Jesus Christ save me!’

Rollo sat on the edge of the bed and said: ‘Christ will save you, if you tell the truth. You’re in trouble, Donal.’

Donal was bewildered. ‘What kind of trouble?’

‘Don’t you recall our talk in the Slaughterhouse?’

Donal looked panicky as he tried to remember. ‘Um... vaguely...’

‘You told me you attended Protestant services with the Cobley family.’

‘I never said anything of the kind!’

‘I’ve already spoken to Bishop Julius. You’re going to stand trial for heresy.’

‘No!’ Trials rarely found men not guilty. The general view was that if a man were innocent he would not have got into trouble in the first place.

‘You’ll be better off if you tell the truth.’

‘I am telling the truth!’

Osmund said: ‘Shall I beat it out of him?’

Donal looked terrified.

Then his mother’s voice was heard from the doorway. ‘You’re not going to beat anyone, Osmund. My son is a law-abiding citizen and a good Catholic boy, and if you touch him you’re the one who’ll be in trouble.’

It was a bluff — Osmund never got into trouble for beating people — but it gave heart to Donal. Looking braver, he said: ‘I have never attended a Protestant service, with Philbert Cobley or anyone else.’

Mrs Gloster said: ‘You can’t hold a man to account for what he says when drunk, and if you try to, you’ll make a fool of yourself, young Rollo.’

Rollo cursed inwardly. Mrs Gloster was getting the better of him. He saw that he had made a mistake in questioning Donal here at home, with his mother to stiffen his nerve. But he could soon put that right. He was not going to let a woman stand in the way of the Fitzgerald family revenge. He stood up. ‘Get your boots on, Donal. You’ll have to come with us to the Guild Hall.’

Mrs Gloster said: ‘I’ll come, too.’

‘No, you won’t,’ said Rollo.

Mrs Gloster’s eyes flashed mutiny.

Rollo added: ‘And if I see you there, you will be arrested too. You must have known Donal was going to blasphemous services — so you’re guilty of concealing his crime.’

Mrs Gloster lowered her eyes again.

Donal put his boots on.

Rollo and Osmund escorted him up the main street to the crossroads and took him into the Guild Hall through the basement entrance. Rollo sent one of the watchmen to fetch Sir Reginald, who arrived a few minutes later accompanied by Bishop Julius. ‘Well, young Donal,’ said Reginald with a pretence of affability. ‘I hope you’ve seen the sense of making a clean breast of things.’

Donal’s voice was shaky, but his words were brave enough. ‘I don’t know what I said when drunk, but I know the truth. I’ve never been to a Protestant service.’

Rollo began to worry that he might not crack after all.

‘Let me show you something,’ said Reginald. He went to a massive door, lifted the heavy bar, and opened it. ‘Come here and look.’

Donal obeyed reluctantly. Rollo followed. They looked into a windowless room with a high ceiling and an earth floor. It smelled of old blood and shit, like an abattoir.

Reginald said: ‘You see that hook in the ceiling?’

They all looked up.

Reginald said: ‘Your hands will be tied behind your back. Then the rope from your wrists will be looped around that hook, and you will be hoisted up.’

Donal groaned.

‘The pain is unbearable, of course, but at first your shoulders will not dislocate — it doesn’t happen that quickly. Heavy stones will be attached to your feet, increasing the agony in your joints. When you pass out, cold water will be thrown in your face to bring you round — there’s no relief. As the weights get heavier, so the pain gets worse. Eventually your arms spring from their sockets. Apparently that is the most dreadful part.’

Donal was white, but he did not give in. ‘I’m a citizen of Kingsbridge. You can’t torture me without a royal command.’

That was true. The Privy Council had to give permission for torture. The rule was often broken, but Kingsbridge people knew their rights. There would be an outcry if Donal was tortured illegally.

‘I can get permission, you young fool.’

‘Then do,’ Donal said in a voice shrill with fear but still determined.

Rollo was downcast to think that they might have to give up. They had done everything possible to scare Donal into a confession, but it had not quite worked. Perhaps Philbert would not be punished after all.

Then Bishop Julius spoke. ‘I think you and I had better have a quiet talk, young Donal,’ he said. ‘But not here. Come with me.’

‘All right,’ said Donal nervously. He was apprehensive, but Rollo guessed he would agree to anything that would get him out of that basement.

Julius escorted Donal out of the Guild Hall. Rollo and Reginald followed a few yards behind. Rollo wondered what the bishop had in mind. Could he save the dignity of the Fitzgerald family after all?

They went down the main street to the cathedral. Julius led them through a small door in the north side of the nave. The choir was singing evensong. The interior of the church was dimly lit by candles that sent dancing shadows across the arches.

Julius picked up a candle, then took Donal into a side chapel with a small altar and a large painting of Christ crucified. He put the candle on the altar so that it lit up the picture. He stood with his back to the altar, and made Donal face him, so that Donal could see Jesus on the cross.