“I know you have iron fingers,” said Brother Edmund, musteringhis load. “You used them on me once, I thought you would break me apart, but Iown I could move the better, the next day. Yes, come if you have time, he’ll beglad to see you. He wanders, nowadays, there’s hardly one among the youngbrothers he recognises, but he’ll not have forgotten you.”

“He’ll remember any who have the Welsh tongue,” said Cadfael simply. “Hegoes back to his childhood, as old men do.”

Brother Edmund took up his bag and turned to the door. The thin young man,all eyes, slipped aside and opened it for him civilly, and again closed it uponhis smiling thanks. Not such a meagre young man, after all, inches aboveCadfael’s square, solid bulk, and erect and supple of movement, but lean andwary, with a suggestion of wild alertness in his every motion. He had a shockof light-brown hair, unkempt from the rising wind outside, and the trimmedlines of a fair beard about lips and chin, pointing the hungry austerity of athin, hawk-featured face. The large, bright-blue eyes, glittering withintelligence and defensive as levelled spears, turned their attention uponCadfael, and sustained the glance unwavering, lances in rest.

“Well, friend,” said Cadfael comfortably, shifting his pot a shade furtherfrom the direct heat, “what is it I can do for you?” And he turned and viewedthe stranger candidly, from head to foot. “I don’t know you, lad,” he saidplacidly, “but you’re welcome. What’s your need?”

“I’m sent by Mistress Bonel,” said the young man, in a voice low-pitched andpleasant to hear, if it had not been so tight and wary, “to ask you for somekitchen-herbs she needs. Brother Hospitaller told her you would be willing tosupply her when her own stocks fail. My master has today moved into a house inthe Foregate, as guest of the abbey.”