ALL AFTERNOON I WANDERED in a kind of daze, beguiled by what I saw. It was as if my world had multiplied many times in size, numbers, and wealth.
My eyes fairly ached with marvels seen even as my heart beat with sheer excitement. As for my anxiety about being in the town, it melted clear away.
And then, at that point in my wanderings, when I thought I’d seen all there was to see, I came upon the town’s great square.
Here, in a vast open space—greater than Stromford’s entire commons—buildings pressed in on all sides. Some seemed new, some old, some were straight, while others sagged. But the square was dominated by two buildings that stood at opposite sides.
By far the biggest structure was a great church—a cathedral as I would learn—which soared upward with a multitude of towers. These towers, joined together by what looked like floating arches, were emblazoned with countless embellishments and statues that seemed as real as life. Set between the high front towers was a vast circle of stone and multicolored glass. Below it was the main entry, deep-framed with columns and more statues. The whole gigantic structure seemed to rise toward Heaven itself, stone leaping into glory.
Opposite the church, on the other side of the square, was a large stone building some three stories tall. Whereas the church rose high, this building seemed to cling to the earth with a weight and bulk that bespoke earthly power.
On its first level were big wooden doors over which had been set an open space, caged in with metal bars. To either side of these doors were small windows, similarly enclosed. But on the second level—at a considerable height—were four huge windows side by side, with pillars and stone tracery. Set before the windows was a balcony under which stone lions’ heads protruded. Flags, with various designs of blue and gold, hung on poles. Others flags were black. Here too, soldiers paced.
The third level had smaller windows. But unlike the church, which stood alone, this building was hemmed in close on either side by ordinary structures.
Between the church and this large building was the great open space—the town square itself. It held crowds of traders with booths and stalls, with more sellers of goods and food than I could count.
Swarms of buyers were in attendance. Most were walking, but a few were on horseback, wending their way through the middle of the crowds.
I walked about the square gazing at the endless numbers of things being sold, many of them objects I’d never beheld before; cloth of many colors and types; Moscovy furs; Toledo daggers; Flemish hats; Italian gloves. There were baskets, boxes, and boots. There were shoes, tools, and armor. As for food and spices, why, I actually saw a bowl full of peppercorns. And everywhere coins clinked and abacuses rattled. I wished I had not already spent my penny.
Timidly, I approached the great church itself. For a while I stood before it, trying to decide if I might be allowed to enter. What, I wondered, might it be like to pray in such a place? But aside from its great size, it was the soldiers about the doors that made me hold back. Yet they seemed to be paying very little attention to the crowds of people who went in and out. When I saw children enter, I made the sign of the cross over my heart and went forward.
In truth, the soldiers barely looked at me as I passed through an entryway crowned by statues of Mary and Jesus, plus other saints whose names I did not know. I promised myself I’d return with Bear, who would, I was certain, know them all.
But when I stepped past the vestibule, I gasped. Before me was a space of such immense size, height, depth, and breadth, that I never would have thought it could exist on mortal earth. Burning candles blossomed everywhere, enough to awe the stars. Through sweet and smoky air, great columns rose to dizzying heights, while enough multicolored light poured down through stained glass so as to turn the hard stone floor into pools of liquid hues. From somewhere unseen a chorus of swelling chant rolled forth, filling this celestial space with sounds that made me think of the measured beating of angels’wings. It was as if I had entered paradise itself.
Any number of people were milling about, or were on their knees in prayer. Afraid to go any farther, I sank to my knees, too, pressed my hands together, and simply stared with wonder at the church itself and then at the people.
As I knelt, my gaze fastened on a particularly devout man who was kneeling, hands tightly clasped in prayer. Though he was wearing a soldier’s quilted canvas jacket, red leggings, and high leather boots, somehow he seemed familiar. After a while he began to look about.
As he turned, the hairs at the back of my neck began to prickle. In truth, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. It was none other than John Aycliffe, the steward of Stromford Village.
Moreover, I now realized he was not alone, but attended by men dressed in the same livery as those the great lady I had seen had about her person.
Even as I began to grasp who it was, Aycliffe shifted farther about. Before I could gather my wits, he turned full-face toward me.
Our eyes seemed to fasten on one another. It was as if neither of us could believe the other was there, and we were in Stromford’s forest once again.
But then he set up a cry, shouting, “There!” and pointed right at me. “The boy! The wolf’s head! He’s here! Catch him!”
These men, taken by surprise, spun around, saw whom he meant, then began running in my direction, shouting, knocking down anyone who stood in their way.
By then I had collected wits enough to leap to my feet and race out of the church. Once outside, I plunged into the mass of people in the square, pushing and dodging to get away.
After leaving the square, I raced on without any knowledge of where I was, running through one narrow lane after another. I went in no particular direction and never paused to look back. All I could think was that I had to get back to Bear.
How long I ran, I don’t know. But I was still pelting through a particularly narrow lane when a man leaped out in front of me.
“Halt.'” he cried, his arms spread wide enough to prevent me from passing.