The crowd inched through the vestibule. The restless light of the torches fell on the sculpted figures around the walls, making them dance madly. At he lowest level were demons and monsters: Gwenda stared uneasily at dragons and griffins, a bear with a man’s head, a dog with two bodies and one with muzzle. Some of the demons straggled with humans: a devil put a nooses around a man’s neck, a fox-like monster dragged a woman by her hair, an eagle with hands speared a naked man. Above these scenes the saints stood in a row under sheltering canopies; over them the apostles sat on thrones, then, in the arch over the main door, St Peter with his key and St Paul with a scroll looked adoringly upwards a Jesus Christ .
Gwenda knew that Jesus was telling her not to sin, or she would be tortured by demons, but humans frightened her more than demons. If she failed to steal sir Gerald’s purse, she would be whipped by her father. Worse there would be nothing for the family to eat but soup made with acorns. She and Philemon would be hungry for weeks on end. Ma’s breasts would dry up, and the new baby, would die, as the last two had. Pa would disappear for days, and come back with nothing for the pot but a scrawny heron or a couple of squirrels. Being hungry was worse than being whipped – it hurt longer.
She had been taught to pilfer at a young age: an apple from a stall, a new laid egg from under a neighbour’s hen, a knife dropped carelessly on a tavern table by a drunk. But stealing money was different. If she were caught robbing Sir Gerald it would be no use bursting into tears and hoping to be treated as a naughty child, as she had once after thieving a pair of dainty leather shoes from a soft hearted nun. Cutting the strings of a knight’s purse was not childish peccadillo. It was a real grown-up crime and she would be treated accordingly.
From the book ‘World without end’ by Ken Follet
