Page 59 of The Pillars of the Earth

William felt a wonderful sense of triumph mingled with an odd kind of frustration. He had never killed a man, and he wished he could kill Gilbert. Torturing a man without killing him was like stripping a girl naked without raping her. The more he thought about that, the more he felt the need of a woman.

Perhaps when he got home ... no, there would be no time. He would have to tell his parents what had happened, and they would want Gilbert to repeat his confession in front of a priest and perhaps some other witnesses; and then they would have to plan the capture of Earl Bartholomew, which would surely have to take place tomorrow, before Bartholomew mustered too many fighting men. And still William had not thought of a way to take that castle by stealth, without a prolonged siege. ...

He was thinking with frustration that it might be a long time before he evensawan attractive woman when one appeared on the road ahead.

There were five people in a group, walking toward William. One of them was a dark-haired woman of about twenty-five years, not exactly a girl, but young enough. As she came closer William became more interested: she was quite beautiful, with dark brown hair that came to a devil’s peak on her brow, and deep-set eyes of an intense golden color. She had a trim, lithe figure and smooth tanned skin.

“Stay back,” William said to Walter. “Keep the knight behind you while I talk to them.”

The group stopped and looked warily at him. They were a family, obviously: there was a tall man who was presumably the husband, a lad who was full-grown but not yet bearded, and a couple of sprats. The man looked familiar, William realized with a start. “Do I know you?” he said.

“I know you,” the man said. “And I know your horse, for together you almost killed my daughter.”

It began to come back to William. His horse had not touched the child, but it had been close. “You were building my house,” he said. “And when I dismissed you, you demanded payment, and almost threatened me.”

The man looked defiant, and did not deny it.

“You’re not so cocky now,” William said with a sneer. The whole family appeared to be starving. It was turning out to be a good day for settling accounts with people who had offended William Hamleigh. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, we’re hungry,” said the builder in a tone of sullen anger.

William looked again at the woman. She stood with her feet a little apart and her chin up, staring at him fearlessly. He had been inflamed by Aliena and now he wanted to slake his lust with this one. She would be lively, he felt sure: she would wriggle and scratch. All the better.

“You’re not married to this girl, are you, builder?” he said. “I remember your wife—an ugly cow.”

The shadow of pain crossed the builder’s face, and he said: “My wife died.”

“And you haven’t taken this one to church, have you? You haven’t got a penny to pay the priest.” Behind William, Walter coughed and the horses moved impatiently. “Suppose I give you money for food,” William said to the builder, to tantalize him.

“I’ll accept it gratefully,” the man said, although William could tell it hurt him to be subservient.

“I’m not talking about a gift. I’ll buy your woman.”

The woman herself spoke. “I’m not for sale, boy.”

Her scorn was well directed, and William was angered. I’ll show you whether I’m a man or a boy, he thought, when I get you alone. He spoke to the builder. “I’ll give you a pound of silver for her.”

“She’s not for sale.”

William’s anger grew. It was infuriating to offer a fortune to a starving man and be turned down. He said: “You fool, if you don’t take the money I’ll run you through with my sword and fuck her in front of the children!”

The builder’s arm moved under his cloak. He must have some kind of weapon, William thought. He was also very big, and although he was as thin as a knife he might put up a mean fight to save his woman. The woman moved her cloak aside and rested her hand on the hilt of a surprisingly long dagger at her belt. The older boy was big enough to cause trouble, too.

Walter spoke in a low but carrying voice. “Lord, there’s no time for this.”

William nodded reluctantly. He had to get Gilbert back to the Hamleigh manor house. It was too important to delay with a brawl over a woman. He would just have to suffer.

He looked at the little family of five ragged, hungry people, ready to fight to the finish against two beefy men with horses and swords. He could not understand them. “All right, then, starve to death,” he said. He kicked his horse and trotted on, and a few moments later they were out of sight.

II

When they were a mile or so from the place where they had encountered William Hamleigh, Ellen said: “Can we slow down now?”

Tom realized he had been setting a fierce pace. He had been frightened: for a moment, back there, it had looked as if he and Alfred would have to fight two armed men on horseback. Tom did not even have a weapon. He had reached under his cloak for his mason’s hammer and then remembered, painfully, that he had sold it weeks ago for a sack of oats. He was not sure why William had backed off in the end, but he wanted to put as much distance as possible between them in case the young lord changed his evil little mind.

Tom had failed to find work at the palace of the bishop of Kingsbridge and at every other place he had tried. However, there was a quarry in the vicinity of Shiring, and a quarry—unlike a building site—employed as many men in winter as it did in summer. Of course, Tom’s usual work was more skilled and better paid than quarrying, but he was a long way past caring about that. He just wanted to feed his family. The quarry at Shiring was owned by Earl Bartholomew, and Tom had been told that the earl could be found at his castle a few miles to the west of the town.

Now that he had Ellen he was even more desperate than before. He knew that she had thrown her lot in with him for love, and had not weighed the consequences carefully. In particular, she did not have a clear idea of how difficult it might be for Tom to get work. She had not really confronted the possibility that they might not survive the winter, and Tom had held back from disillusioning her, for he wanted her to stay with him. But a woman was liable to put her child before everything else, in the end, and Tom was afraid Ellen would leave him.