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- Hello, Bill.
- Here, have an apple on me.
Oh, thank you.
Caris.
Caris.
Have you spoke to your father?
- About what?
- Is it true?
Has the old king been murdered?
There's a rumour
around the market.
I don't want to believe it,
but if I heard it
from the head of the guild
Father doesn't trade
in rumours much.
Sorry.
- Mattie.
- Caris!
Mother's got
her headaches again.
Oh, don't worry.
I'll make her yarrow tea.
Can you make it stronger
this time?
They keep coming back.
I'll add some chokecherry bark.
- And some dried bergamot.
- You've been paying attention.
I hear the old king's dead.
Murdered in prison,
Father said.
God save us.
Come.
Yah!
Ah!
Ah!
Ah!
That hurt?
- No.
- Good.
- Yes.
- Oh! Ah!
That was unfair.
But you're dead.
Again.
Get up!
- Oh!
- Aw!
Ahhh!
Ahhhhh!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, we have no fight with you.
- Who are you? - I'm Merthin Fitzgerald
and this is my brother, Ralph.
Our father's Sir Gerald,
the Earl of Shiring.
Who fought for the king
in the late civil war?
Yes.
God save
His Majesty's soul.
Whose side were you on?
It no longer matters.
I was making
for Kingsbridge Priory.
Can you help me?
Before I bleed to death.
Is it love, or passing fancy?
Greetings, Mother Cecilia.
I was just admiring
the Lord God's gifts.
Oh, really?
And I thought that it was
merchants' gifts bought
with merchants' tithes.
Thank you.
Good day, Mother Cecilia.
It's freezing in here.
Build up the fire
for Mother Cecilia.
Goose?
Well, no reason why our weekly
meetings shouldn't be tasty.
Godwyn, when you've done, pour some
hot cider for our Mother Prioress.
Gladly, Uncle.
Are we celebrating?
Today is my nephew's birthday.
He turns 21.
Congratulations, Godwyn.
- Thank you, Mother Cecilia.
- Has your uncle
blessed you
with a birthday gift?
He's sending me to Oxford
to study medicine.
How very generous.
How on earth will you
afford that?
You want me to pay
for his education.
- Well, since the nuns hold the priory
purse strings - Because the widows are
generous in their wills
and we are thrifty.
But there's a fine line
between thrifty and miserly,
- Mother Cecilia.
- Is that supposed to charm me?
Prior Anthony.
Excuse me, Mother.
There's a knight,
he's in the kitchen,
he's badly wounded.
There's nothing a good
purging won't heal.
Hold still.
Ahhhh! Blood of Christ!
Ahhhhh!
What is this?
What's this commotion?
Your physician is trying
to bleed me out.
It needs to bleed
to balance the humours.
And who are you, Sir Knight?
Sir Thomas Langley,
knight to Queen Isabella.
Joseph, do something.
He's the queen's man.
Oh, well, perhaps
a poultice of dung to reconnect
the body to the earth.
- You need to stop the bleeding!
- What are you doing here?
You're not a physician.
Get out!
I sent for her, Brother Joseph.
Caris, take that towel.
Come on,
now, tie it around his arm!
- Above the wound.
- That towel is used
- for communion!
- All the better then.
Tight,
draw it tight!
You, give her a hand.
This is outrageous.
Stop it!
Mattie Wise, I think it's best you leave.
Brother Joseph knows what he's doing.
You don't belong here!
You're-you're-you're only
- a barber's daughter!
- He was also a surgeon.
Wine!
We need wine to wash the wound.
Wine will imbalance
the body's humours!
Dung will clot the wound
and help it heal!
- Don't worry about the blood,
Caris.
Pull it tight! - It's stopping.
The bleeding's stopping.
Good.
Needle and thread.
We have to make sure all the
feathers are pulled from the wound.
Keep it clean.
Brother Godwyn, perhaps
you should avoid a degree
in medicine if the sight
of blood disturbs you so.
No, I'll get accustomed
in time.
Oh.
Well, tell me, then,
which is correct:
dung, or wine?
If I agree
I'll sponsor you at Oxford.
Wine certainly has its place
but dung is always
to be preferred.
Ah.
A considered choice.
But not, in my opinion,
the correct one.
Prior.
Prior, may I have a word
with you alone?
- You wish to make your confession?
- I
I wish to become a monk.
The priory is far too poor, Sir
Thomas, to take on another member.
Unless you can pay the costs,
which are considerable.
I have a sponsor.
- Amen.
- Amen.
We herewith lay to rest
the body of Edward II,
King of England.
- The queen?
- Yes.
Seems she owes him a favour.
How fortunate for us
that he chose to come here.
Not fortunate at all, I fancy.
Why?
With the king recently dead
and talk that he was murdered?
The death was an accident.
The king
fell in prison and broke his neck.
- You mean he was hanged.
- Shh!
- You mustn't say that.
- There are darker rumours too--
red hot poker up his rear.
- But none of this is our affair.
His death--however he died--
was God's judgement.
With that knight here?
I wish I could be so sure.
Vous êtes la bijou dans
le couronne d'England, Majesté.
I much prefer English
to your hideous French,
Sir Roland.
What is it you want?
I merely wish to express
how honoured I feel
to have played a small role
in your glorious victory.
Of course.
The only man from Kingsbridge
to have fought in your favour.
Really?
Oh, I'm sure there were many of
Kingsbridge who we with you in spirit
but who were simply too busy making
money, feeding the king's army.
- Kingsbridge?
- Yes.
The home of Sir Gerald,
the Earl of Shiring.
Is he here?
I haven't seen him.
Are you suggesting
that he conspires
against me, Sir Roland?
In Kingsbridge,
not just him, but many others.
I have compiled a list.
It would seem that I need
new blood in Kingsbridge.
Are you equal to the task,
Sir Roland?
I seek only to serve,
Your Majesty.
Merci, mon Queen chérie, merci.
What a toad.
Toads also have their uses.
Ugh!
Honestly, Godwyn!
What were you thinking
with Mother Cecilia?
- I don't like blood!
- Apparently!
Dear God.
If you want to advance beyond
being Prior Anthony's lackey,
you must learn never to show
your weaknesses in public.
How was I to know the kitchen would
be running with gore?
Obviously we can forget
about medicine,
but you still need an Oxford education,
and it's up to me to secure it.
But you've no money, Mother.
I'll sell this house,
- crumbling though it may be.
- Where would you live?
Why, with you, of course,
in Oxford.
No, I'll move in
with my brother.
He'll have to take me.
But Uncle Edmund has
no room for you.
Then the good Lord
must provide.
Lord Almighty, give me strength.
Sorry that took so long,
Father.
Come here.
I want your opinion.
Which one would you buy?
- Where did you get them?
- Never you mind that.
Just tell me
which one you favour.
Um
the red one;
much softer.
Well, I was afraid
you'd say that.
Wrong choice?
The blue one is
Kingsbridge wool.
The red is from Penzance
by way of Shiring.
- Oh.
And what's in it?
- Angora, perhaps.
All I know is we need to make our
wools soft or see Kingsbridge ruined.
Father, you're always
exaggerating.
Possibly.
But as head of the guild, it
is my duty to engage in such problems.
You'll find a way.
How's Mother?
Resting.
It will take weeks for your letter to
reach the queen and hear if she will
- even accept your offer.
- She will.
And where is your home,
by the way?
In case we need
to notify.
This is my home now.
Here we are.
A lovely dung poultice
still hot from the privy.
Mother, it's really
not that bad.
You'd never get your father
to take that.
Remember to sweeten your medicines
when you have a husband of your own.
Well, I'm not going to worry
about that for quite some time.
Don't say that.
I want to see you married.
- Rose, Caris.
- Hello, Petranilla.
- Talk of marriage, niece?
- Hardly.
There's certainly not a man in
Kingsbridge I find interesting.
Will you listen
to your daughter?
When did she become so grand? Marry
while you still can, young lady.
Yes, Aunt.
- How are you feeling?
- Better soon, I hope.
I drank Mattie's potion.
It always does the trick.
And yet the headaches
keep returning.
I've paid for a miracle.
Sacred dirt from the grave
of Saint Adolphus.
I've baked it into a cake
to cure you once and for all.
You shouldn't have.
It's the least I could do.
Mm.
Thank you.
What's that fire done to you?
Nothing.
Petranilla and Mother would
have me married.
And you don't want
to get married?
Perhaps.
And what will you do instead?
I've been watching
Mattie Wise work.
It's fascinating.
She helps people.
Would that be so bad?
Edmund!
Edmund! Edmund!
What is it?
- Rose!
- Something's terribly wrong.
- Rose.
- I'll get Mattie!
No! No, Mattie's done enough
as it is.
Send for Brother Joseph.
- No, but he--
- Send for him now!
Rose.
I'm afraid it's no use.
Despite the bleeding,
she has only become weaker.
- Then y-you shouldn't have bled her.
- Caris.
It's the recommended remedy,
but it didn't work because God
didn't want it to work.
- That isn't true.
- Against God's will,
all the efforts
of medicine are useless.
This isn't God's will;
she's sick!
- My dear child.
- Oh, Christ.
- Oh, God, no! - It's out of my hands, child.
- Well, can't you do something?
- It's up to God now.
- We need Mattie!
- Rose!
Pray.
All we can do is pray.
No! God, no!
Please just do something!
Can't you do anything?!
- Do something! Please! Please.
- Rose, stay with us.
Amen.
Oh, God, no.
Rose.
Stay with us, Rose.
No.
I will never
leave you, brother.
and there was
an arrow
It was.
- Not the same story
- It's true.
There was,
there was an arrow.
What's going on here?!
You, Sir Gerald,
are under arrest
for plotting
against the new king.
That's absurd!
I swore an oath of allegiance!
- I support the new king!
- Queen Isabella has evidence
which informs her otherwise.
Take him!
- How dare you?!
- No! No!
Ralph! Ralph, no.
Get out of here at once!
This is treason!
I am the Earl of Shiring.
That is where
you would be wrong.
I am the Earl of Shiring now.
Caris.
I'm so sorry.
I can never hope
to take your mother's place,
but I will do my best.
Thank you, Aunt.
But I intend
to run Father's house now.
You're just a girl, my dear.
And you were a widow running your
own house when you were my age.
Your father has already
asked me to move in.
What?
I've sold my house.
Why? II don't--
- Sir Roland.
What is the meaning of this?
The queen has a list of Kingsbridge traitors;
she has asked me to see them hanged.
Seize him.
That is an absurdity!
I I have done
- I have done nothing!
- Caris.
- I'm guilty of nothing!
- No! Father!
- Father!
- Caris.
- No! No!
- Let them go.
- Father! No!
It's all right.
There's a time and a place.
Next petitioner.
Sir Roland.
Petranilla.
I've come to plead
for my brother's life.
Edmund Wooler gave food
and silver to the enemy.
There's nothing you can say.
May I approach?
As I recall, you used
to adore my fig pie.
A sweet dish.
But a rotten bribe.
Perhaps the rich spices will
appeal to your taste once again.
You understand my appetite
very well, Petranilla.
Next!
I demand my husband's
immediate release.
Lady Maud, the queen considers
your husband a traitor.
There's nothing I can do.
- Next petitioner.
- Need I remind you, Sir Roland,
I nursed your son William
when he nearly died of fever.
Have mercy on me and my sons
as well as my husband.
I cannot spare the life
of your husband.
And my boys?
Be thankful.
I have let them live.
Take them on
as your squires, sire.
I beg you.
I'll take one.
- Who here needs an apprentice?
- I do!
Elfric Builder.
- Which one would you choose?
- The strongest, my lord.
As would I.
So
how should we choose?
First one to draw blood
becomes my squire.
The loser follows Elfric.
Any questions?
So, we're servants now,
is that it?
- Quiet! Ralph.
- I'll kill him.
Spare me the sight
of dead sons.
Come on, boys, show us
which one is most able.
And which one is Cain.
Come on.
You know you're gonna lose.
Oh!
- Ah!
- Enough!
Pull him off!
My new squire!
Pathetic.
He's buried.
We won.
England's ours.
- How can he do this? He took our bribe.
- Hush.
These men are innocent!
You tyrant!
These men
are traitors to the Crown!
But Queen Isabella
is a merciful woman.
One of these wretches
will now be pardoned.
Edmund Wooler!
Your life is spared.
But both of your legs will be
broken.
John Constable,
- take him away.
- Yes, my lord.
Take him to the market square.
Step aside!
Hang them.
No!
Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Ahhhh!
Ahhhhhh!
Take the shoes, Gwenda.
- No.
- Go on.
It's bad luck.
I came all the way from Saxony
to fight for their French queen,
and she paid me nothing!
It's the least I'm owed.
Take them.
No.
- Oh!
- Go on!
Lie still, Gwenda.
Your father is lonely.
No, no, no
Leave her be.
Hey, just trying
to get warm, son.
Yeah, try it again,
you'll warm in hell.
You've got to leave
before you kill him, Holger.
Where would I go?
I don't know.
Join the army.
What? Be a mercenary
like he was?
He was a drunken foot soldier.
You're a magnificent archer.
Come with me, Gwenda.
No.
I won't leave you
alone with him.
I hated life in the army
and I'm tired of running.
I think I'll stay here awhile.
It's as good a town as any.
For you, my lady.
Mortimer!
Come here! Immédiatement.
What is it, my queen?
You were in charge
of Thomas Langley.
You told me
he had been silenced.
Those were my orders, yes.
It seems you were disobeyed.
He's claimed sanctuary
in Kingsbridge Priory.
He wishes to become a monk and
have me pay for the privilege!
Sanctuary is a veil,
not a fortress.
Monks can be disposed of
as easily as kings.
If he should die,
he threatens that everything
he knows will be made public.
This is a poultice of datura root.
You need to change it every hour.
It will bring down the swelling.
Also, if you bruise the leaves
and put them in a tea,
they'll serve to induce sleep
if he wakes.
Will you be all right?
Mm.
I'll help your father.
Thank you.
But I need to do something
for myself.
I want to help.
Will you teach me?
Forgive me.
Mattie, you must come quickly.
The knight's arm putrefied.
Brother Joseph is going
to amputate.
Hold him steady, brothers.
No!
May the hand of God guide me.
No! Ahhhh!
Ah! Ahhh!
Butcher!
Witch! You want his soul
for the devil.
I want to save him from you.
Leave her to her job, brother.
This man's suffering will be on
your conscience, Mother Cecilia.
And his death will be on yours.
Caris, come here now.
You want to learn? Do as I say.
Twist.
Here.
Tight.
Tighter.
Tighter.
Oh.
There.
See?
There's nothing
to be afraid of.
It's only blood.
That's the first lesson.
Then the bowel;
- that's the lower part there.
- Mm-hmm.
And then have a look inside.
What can you see?
Do you see that?
- Yeah.
- And that is the upper intestine.
Get working, you lazy
little brat.
Now!
Much more velvety.
Really, you bash it, bash it!
Yeah.
You can add
a little bit of water.
Mushrooms.
It's my pleasure.
Very good.
Arrest this man!
What in G-
- What's the meaning of this?!
Edward!
Take your hands off me!
He stands accused of assuming
royal power and other crimes.
What crimes?
He murdered my father.
Your father died
- of a fall in prison.
- That is a lie!
This traitor,
who lies in your bed, conspired
with Sir Thomas Langley
- to take my father's life.
- But, sire, that is not true.
Langley was my father's keeper
in prison,
and under your orders.
Is that right?
- Yes.
- Yes.
Langley disappeared
on the day that my father died.
Yet only today I saw you
trying to burn this letter.
Isabella.
Tell him what happened.
- Tell him, Isabella!
- Just gag him!
Is this true?
I know nothing
of this treachery.
We have been betrayed.
Take him from my sight.
You know, first and foremost,
I am your mother--
- You're a ***.
And my mother.
I suggest you choose
which you want to be.
I will not have both.
Do you know who I am?
Damn you!
Isabella!
Isabella!
Stop them!
Isabella!
Ahhhh!
I will make Kingsbridge bleed.
- Merthin? What are you doing here?
- Um--
- Oh, my god, what happened?
Oh.
Um, Elfric's
a sloppy builder and
well, I told him so.
Your life's changed so much
since your father died.
You've lost a parent too.
I'm not sure what's worse--
missing my mother,
or having to watch
my father in pain.
Caris.
Don't carry it alone.
Seek me out.
And
if I may
I'll do the same with you.
I'd like that.
Evening.
What's going on?
Good evening, niece.
We've planned a little
celebration.
A celebration? Of what?
Of your betrothal.
To Elfric Builder.
He's agreed to finance
your father's business and make
you the wealthiest woman
in Kingsbridge.
You've assured our future.
Come here.
Come, let me give you
my blessing.
Come.
Thank you.
Petranilla told me.
My ransom ruined us.
Your selflessness has saved us.
Thank you.
We'll make
such handsome children.
She is young and wilful.
She only needs taming.
I want a wife, not a horse.