Where the Stones Sing Read Online Free Page A

The prior is an important man in the city. Apart from the Archbishop, he is probably the most respected religious person in Dublin.’
    ‘And what about St Patrick’s?’ Kai had spent the earlier part of the day sitting against the wall of Dublin’s other cathedral. It lay down in the hollow on the southern side of the city walls, facing out towards the hills.
    ‘St Patrick’s is a godly, goodly church, but it is not as old or venerable as Holy Trinity; and it does not have its wonderful relics. You will see them soon. Or have you been inside the cathedral already?’
    Kai shook her head. She had only sung outside the walls of the cathedral, never inside.
    ‘It’s a beautiful place. The High Altar is a work of such beauty! And there is the Talking Cross, and the Staff of Jesus, passed down by St Patrick, both great relics. Hundreds of pilgrims come to see them. The canons have chests of other relics stored in the crypt. And the relics of great St Laurencehimself are held there. Have you heard of him? He was the cathedral’s greatest archbishop.’
    But Kai was more interested in the Talking Cross.
    ‘Does the cross really talk?’
    Dame Maria nodded.
    ‘It has not done so for many years, but it has been said to cry out when a man told lies in front of it. You look doubtful. Do you not believe in miracles, child?’
    Kai was not sure what to reply. She had seen Gilbert take a broken shoe and call it St Sylvester’s sandal, some old stones and call them the Tablets of Moses. She had seen her father perform many tricks in the marketplace, so that people would believe that these shoes and stones could cure illnesses. People had called them miracles. So she had her doubts about anything that was supposed to be magic or a miracle. Yet at the same time she had seen strange things that could not be explained. Some people, like Ymna, the washerwoman they stayed with when they visited the city, seemed to have special powers. She always seemed to know they were coming to visit her before they arrived. She stood silently, but luckily, Dame Maria was diverted by meeting an old friend and the subject was forgotten when they started on their journey again.
    They went through the gate of the city, Dame Maria nodding and smiling at the guards as if she knew them well. Outside the walls the fair green was full of the noise andsmell of the sheep that were brought to market at the end of the summer. While they made their way through the sea of bleating, woolly faces and down past the abbeys of St Thomas and the hospital of St John the Baptist, Dame Maria chatted to her, explaining that her house had belonged to her husband. He had been a merchant who had died when their son had been just a baby.
    ‘It’s a fine house, and I love the fact that it is so near the river and is a little bit away from the noise and dirt of the city.’
    Beyond St James Gate there were no more rows of houses. It was almost like the countryside; here there were fields and scattered houses, and views through fruit and nut trees down to the river. Kai fell in love with Dame Maria’s house as soon as she saw it. It was a tall stone house with a neatly thatched roof. There was a grey wall around it, but this was broken by an archway. Dame Maria led Kai under the archway and in through the front door, which opened into a hall. The walls were a sparkling white and the high ceiling and west-facing windows made it seem full of light. Everything was clean, everything was orderly. At one end was a large fireplace with a fire burning brightly in it. Along the mantelpiece was a row of polished pewter and bright pottery plates. The room was simply furnished with a long table and benches and two large chairs by the fireplace, a cabinet gaily carved and painted with birds and flowers and one ortwo chests placed under the windows. The wood shone, the pewter glinted in the firelight and the place smelled of fresh lavender and rosemary. A door led to the kitchen quarters,