Read Online The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett - Free Book Online

hissed: “Tom! Look!” and he knew she had seen it too.
    There was no doubt about it: he knew that pig as well as he knew Alfred or Martha. It was being held, in an expert grip, by a man who had the florid complexion and broad girth of one who eats as much meat as he needs and then some more: a butcher, without doubt. Both Tom and Agnes stood and stared at him, and since they blocked his path he could not help but notice them.
    “Well?” he said, puzzled by their stares and impatient to get by.
    It was Martha who broke the silence. “That’s our pig!” she said excitedly.
    “So it is,” said Tom, looking levelly at the butcher.
    For an instant a furtive look crossed the man’s face, and Tom realized he knew the pig was stolen. But he said: “I’ve just paid fifty pence for it, and that makes it my pig.”
    “Whoever you gave your money to, the pig was not his to sell. No doubt that was why you got it so cheaply. Who did you buy it from?”
    “A peasant.”
    “One you know?”
    “No. Listen, I’m butcher to the garrison. I can’t ask every farmer who sells me a pig or a cow to produce twelve men to swear the animal is his to sell.”
    The man turned aside as if to go away, but Tom caught him by the arm and stopped him. For a moment the man looked angry, but then he realized that if he got into a scuffle he would have to drop the pig, and that if one of Tom’s family managed to pick it up, the balance of power would change and it would be the butcher who had to prove ownership. So he restrained himself and said: “If you want to make an accusation, go to the sheriff.”
    Tom considered that briefly and dismissed it. He had no proof. Instead he said: “What did he look like—the man who sold you my pig?”
    The butcher looked shifty and said: “Like anyone else.”
    “Did he keep his mouth covered?”
    “Now that I think of it, he did.”
    “He was an outlaw, concealing a mutilation,” Tom said bitterly. “I suppose you didn’t think of that.”
    “It’s pissing with rain!” the butcher protested. “Everyone’s muffled up.”
    “Just tell me how long ago he left you.”
    “Just now.”
    “And where was he headed?”
    “To an alehouse, I’d guess.”
    “To spend my money,” Tom said disgustedly. “Go on, clear off. You may be robbed yourself, one day, and then you’ll wish there were not so many people eager to buy a bargain without asking questions.”
    The butcher looked angry, and hesitated as if he wanted to make some rejoinder; then he thought better of it and disappeared.
    Agnes said: “Why did you let him go?”
    “Because he’s known here and I’m not,” Tom said. “If I fight with him I’ll be blamed. And because the pig doesn’t have my name written on its arse, so who is to say whether it is mine or not?”
    “But all our savings—”
    “We may get the money for the pig, yet,” said Tom. “Shut up and let me think.” The altercation with the butcher had angered him, and it relieved his frustration to speak harshly to Agnes. “Somewhere in this town there is a man with no lips and fifty silver pennies in his pocket. All we have to do is find him and take the money from him.”
    “Right,” said Agnes determinedly.
    “You walk back the way we’ve come. Go as far as the cathedral close. I’ll walk on, and come to the cathedral from the other direction. Then we’ll return by the next street, and so on. If he’s not on the streets he’s in an alehouse. When you see him, stay by him and send Martha to find me. I’ll take Alfred. Try not to let the outlaw see you.”
    “Don’t worry,” Agnes said grimly. “I want that money, to feed my children.”
    Tom touched her arm and smiled. “You’re a lion, Agnes.”
    She looked into his eyes for a moment, then suddenly stood on her toes and kissed his mouth, briefly but hard. Then she turned and went back across the marketplace with Martha in tow. Tom watched her out of sight, feeling anxious for her despite her