“You think we have lost him?”

“I fear it’s all too likely. Not that Stephen himself bears grudges toolong, but what the legate wants, Stephen will let him have, to keepthe pope sweet. And do you think a brisk, reforming spirit, let loose here inour realm with powers to fashion the church he wants, will find our abbot veryimpressive? Stephen cast the doubt, while he was still angry, but it’s Albericof Ostia who will weigh up our good little abbot, and discard him for too softin grain,” said Brother Edmund regretfully. “I could do with another pot ofthat salve of yours for bed-sores. Brother Adrian can’t be much longer for thispenance, poor soul.”

“It must be pain now, just shifting him for the anointing,” said Cadfaelwith sympathy.

“Skin and bone, mere skin and bone. Getting food down him at all is labourenough. He withers like a leaf.”

“If ever you want an extra hand to lift him, send for me, I’m here to beused. Here’s what you want. I think I have it better than before, with more ofOur Lady’s mantle in it.”

Brother Edmund laid bottle and pot in his scrip, and considered on otherneeds, scouring his pointed chin between thumb and forefinger. The sudden chillthat blew in through the doorway made them both turn their heads, so sharplythat the young man who had opened the door a wary inch or two hung his head ininstant apology and dismay.

“Close the door, lad,” said Cadfael, hunching his shoulders.

A hasty, submissive voice called: “Pardon, brother! I’ll wait your leisure.”And the door began to close upon a thin, dark, apprehensively sullen face.

“No, no,” said Cadfael with cheerful impatience, “I never meant it so. Comeinto the warm, and close the door on that wicked wind. It makes the braziersmoke. Come in, I’ll be with you very shortly, when Brother Infirmarer has all hisneeds.”

The door opened just wide enough to allow a lean young man to slide inthrough the aperture, which he thereupon very hastily closed, and flattened histhin person against the door in mute withdrawal, willing to be invisible andinaudible, though his eyes were wide in wonder and curiosity at the storehouse of rustling, dangling, odorous herbs that hung about theplace, and the benches and shelves of pots and bottles that hoarded thesummer’s secret harvest.