The brothers filed out in mourne silence, only to break out into subdued butagitated conversations as soon as they were dispersed over the great court.Heribert had been their abbot for eleven years, and an easy man to serve under,approachable, kindly, perhaps even a little too easy-going. They did not lookforward to changes.

In the half-hour before High Mass at ten, Cadfael betook himself verythoughtfully to his workshop in the herb-gardens, to tend a few specifics hehad brewing. The enclosure, thickly hedged and well trimmed, was beginning nowto look bleached and dry with the first moderate cold, all the leaves grownelderly and lean and brown, the tenderest plants withdrawing into the warmth ofthe earth; but the air still bore a lingering, aromatic fragrance compounded ofall the ghostly scents of summer, and inside the hut the spicy sweetness madethe senses swim. Cadfael regularly took his ponderings there for privacy. Hewas so used to the drunken, heady air within that he barely noticed it, but atneed he could distinguish every ingredient that contributed to it, and trace itto its source.

So King Stephen, after all, had not forgotten his lingering grudges, andAbbot Heribert was to be the scapegoat for Shrewsbury’s offence in holding outagainst his claims. Yet he was not by nature a vindictive man.Perhaps it was rather that he felt a need to flatter and court the legate,since the pope had recognised him as king of England, and given him papalbacking, no negligible weapon, in the contention with the Empress Maud, therival claimant to the throne. That determined lady would certainly not give upso easily, she would be pressing her case strongly in Rome, and even popesmay change their allegiance. So Alberic of Ostia would be given every possiblelatitude in pursuing his plans for the reform of the Church, and Heribert mightbe but one sacrificial victim offered to his zeal on a platter.

Another curious theme intruded itself persistently into Cadfael’s musings.