Page 327 of The Pillars of the Earth

Jack walked around to the west end of the cathedral and looked up at the twin towers. They were almost complete, and a huge bronze bell was on its way here from the foundry in London. There was not much for Jack to do nowadays. Where he had once controlled an army of muscular stonecutters and carpenters, laying rows of square stones and building scaffolding, he now had a handful of carvers and painters doing precise and painstaking work on a small scale, making statues for niches, building ornamental pinnacles, and gilding the wings of stone angels. There was not much to design, apart from the occasional new building for the priory—a library, a chapter house, more accommodation for pilgrims, new laundry and dairy buildings. In between petty jobs Jack was doing some stone carving himself, for the first time in many years. He was impatient to pull down Tom Builder’s old chancel and put up a new east end to his own design, but Prior Philip wanted to enjoy the finished church for a year before beginning another building campaign. Philip was feeling his age. Jack was afraid the old boy might not live to see the chancel rebuilt.

However, the work would be continued after Philip’s death, Jack thought as he saw the enormously tall figure of Brother Jonathan striding toward him from the direction of the kitchen courtyard. Jonathan would make a good prior, perhaps even as good as Philip himself. Jack was glad the succession was assured: it enabled him to plan for the future.

“I’m worried about this ecclesiastical court, Jack,” said Jonathan without preamble.

Jack said: “I thought that was all a big fuss about nothing.”

“So did I—but the archdeacon turns out to be an old enemy of Prior Philip’s.”

“Hell. But even so, surely he can’t find him guilty.”

“He can do anything he wants.”

Jack shook his head in disgust. He sometimes wondered how men such as Jonathan could continue to believe in the Church when it was so shamelessly corrupt. “What are you going to do?”

“The only way we can prove his innocence is to find out who my parents were.”

“It’s a bit late for that!”

“It’s our only hope.”

Jack was somewhat shaken. They were quite desperate. “Where are you going to start?”

“With you. You were in the area of St-John-in-the-Forest at the time I was born.”

“Was I?” Jack did not see what Jonathan was getting at. “I lived there until I was eleven, and I must be about eleven years older than you. ...”

“Father Philip says he met you, with your mother and Tom Builder and Tom’s children, the day after I was found.”

“I remember that. We ate all Philip’s food. We were starving.”

“Think hard. Did you see anyone with a baby, or a young woman who might have been pregnant, anywhere near that area?”

“Wait a minute.” Jack was puzzled. “Are you telling me that you were found near St-John-in-the-Forest?”

“Yes—didn’t you know that?”

Jack could hardly believe his ears. “No, I didn’t know that,” he said slowly. His mind was reeling with the implications of the revelation. “When we arrived in Kingsbridge, you were already here, and I naturally assumed you had been found in the forest near here.” He suddenly felt the need to sit down. There was a pile of building rubble nearby, and he lowered himself onto it.

Jonathan said impatiently: “Well, anyway, did you see anyone in the forest?”

“Oh, yes,” Jack said. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Jonathan.”

Jonathan paled. “You know something about this, don’t you? What did you see?”

“I saw you, Jonathan; that’s what I saw.”

Jonathan’s mouth dropped open. “What ... How?”

“It was dawn. I was on a duck-hunting expedition. I heard a cry. I found a newborn baby, wrapped in a cut-up old cloak, lying beside the embers of a dying fire.”

Jonathan stared at him. “Anything else?”

Jack nodded slowly. “The baby was lying on a new grave.”

Jonathan swallowed. “My mother?”

Jack nodded.