On the Somerset Levels
[Wilfrith Thatcher] pointed out the sea walls and the canals, maintained by the monks for hundreds of years to drain off water from the bogs surrounding the Isle of Avalon, as Glastonbury was once called. (p.28)
When I awoke, a strange conical hill could be seen in the distance, rising above the plain. Its irregular sides showed like steps against the clear blue sky. (p.30)
The setting sun colored the sky orange and pink and glittered in places where the swamp grasses were sparse and water showed through. (p. 189)
The mass [of starlings] dipped and rose together, stretching and compacting, now a broad scatter of dark birds against a pale blue dusk, now compressed into a single blot, staining the sky. (p. 189)
“The abbey be there.” Nicholas pointed to a high, arched gateway, a short distance up the street. (p. 39)
I took a last look toward the market square, surrounded by half-timbered buidings and impressive stone facades. (p.40)
“Tha's the Lady Chapel.” [The abbey porter] pointed to the delicately proportioned west end in front of us. (p.40)
The image on the altar wore the mitre and carried the archbishop's staff of Saint Thomas of Canterbury. (p. 44)
After Vespers...the monks gathered in the cloister for relaxed conversation before the evening meal. (p.49) [picture is Wells Cathedral cloister, but Glastonbury must have looked similar.]
“’Twill be the longest church in all England when the Edgar Chapel is finished.” [Roger's] voice rang with pride. (p. 42)
[Father Bede] looked at me as though I were something that had crawled from the drains of the lavatory. (p. 66)
I was drawn to the fishpond on the far side of the cider orchard where the Tor could be seen rising beyond the nearer, lower Chalice Hill. (p.74)
I darted across the garden to the abbot’s kitchen and brought back a pitcher of watered wine and three pewter cups. (p. 75)
I tried the small abbey gate opposite the north porch. It was locked as I knew it would be. The space between its iron bars and the stone arch was smaller than even Wil could fit through... (p. 220)
“I will accompany you as far as Chalice Well,” [Abbot Whiting] said. (p. 84)
The abbot continued. “Saint Joseph rested by this very well, and when he dipped the Holy Grail into the waters of the spring, they turned red as you now see them in memory of Our Lord’s death.” (p. 85)
A stone tower on the top pointed like a finger toward heaven. (p. 30)
Father Dunstan turned his face toward the steeply rising Tor. “Like a pilgrimage to Jerusalem!” he said. (p. 87)
The abandoned church [of Saint Michael atop the Tor] didn’t have the empty feel I expected. (p. 203)
[The river Brue's] meandering course had long ago been tamed and forced to run between straight banks. draining the broad, flat peat bogs on either side. (p. 128) [Glastonbury and the Tor can just be seen in the distance.]
A stone building stood in a meadow, just beyond where the track left the river. The smell of drying fish was stronger than the bundles of new thatch in the cart that stood in the meadow. (p. 128) [The roof is slate, but thatch worked better for the story.]
“I'll be in Meare for a few days.” I nodded toward the large stone house at the top of the meadow. That was where Brother Basil had told me I would find the steward. (p. 129)
I passed the church [in Meare]... (p.130)
...and the little whitewashed inn. A light shone in the window and the voices of laughing men carried into the night. (p.132)
I left my horse at the tithe barn and turned up the thickly wooded valley between the base of the Tor and Cahlice Hill. (p.153)
It was the hour of High Mass, and Roger, Faither Aidan and the schoolboys were no doubt at Saint John's. (p.177)
“We're too late.” I grasped the market cross for support, but Roger threw back his shoulders and stood taller than ever I had seen him.... (p. 178)
I darted after Wil. He slipped quickly into a smaller lane off Benedict Street behind the church. I followed. (p. 180)
I paused at one of the public wells that gave the town [of Wells] its name to clean myself as best I could. (p.213)
The press of people drew me through a fortified gateway toward the ... palace [of the Bishop of Wells]. (p.214)
The bare trees of [the bishop's] garden rose over the wall and were reflected in the moat that separated the city from her spiritual rulers. (p.214)
I passed the drawbridge onto the grounds [of the bishop's palace]. (p. 214)
...and entered the bishop's hall where the court was already in session. (p.214)
Eight great windows with high pointed arches in the gothic style lit the [bishop's] hall. It was large enough to banquet 200 men... (p.214)
Guards hustled the prisoners through a small door at the foot of the dais. (p.214) [Wells]
The prisoners were being marched toward a small tower a hundred paces away, built into the wall [of the bishop's palace] overlooking the moat. (p. 217)
...a vendor of leather goods pointed toward a porch between two buildings. I darted in ahead of the nearest of King Henry's men and nearly tripped over the extended leg and crutch of a beggar there. “Alms!” he cried. “A penny for the poor!” (p.218) [Wells]
A vast green spread before me, dotted with people and grazing sheep, and ringed by the yellow stone of ... buildings [of Wells Cathedral]. (p. 218)
The south aisle of the cathedral was dimly lit. Its shadows were chilly after the warm sunshine. (p. 219)
Alice broke the last blossom from the prinrose bush that grew by the door and pressed it into my hand. (p.234)
