“Likely enough. And he may very well get it, too.There’s more than one conscience in that house,” agreedCadfael, “feels a debt towards Ramsey. And what,” heasked, “do you make of the other?”

“The young one? An enthusiast, with grace and fervorshining out of his creamy cheeks. Chosen to go with Herluin totemper the chill, would you say?”

“And where did he get that outlandish name ofhis?”

Tutilo! Yes,” said Anselm, musing. “Not at hisbaptism! There must be a reason why they chose that for him. Tutiloyou’ll find among the March saints, though we don’t payhim much attention here. He was a monk of Saint Gall, two hundredyears and more ago since he died, and by all accounts he was amaster of all the arts, painter, poet, musician and all. Perhaps wehave a gifted lad among us. I must get him to try his hand on rebecor organetto, and see what he can do. We had the roving singer hereonce, do you remember? The little tumbler who got himself a wifeout of the goldsmith’s scullery before he left us. I mendedhis rebec for him. If this one can do better, maybe he has somesmall claim to the name they’ve given him. Sound him out,Cadfael, if you’re to be their guide out to Longner thisafternoon. Herluin will be hot on the heels of his strayed novice.Try your hand with Tutilo.”

The path to the manor of Longner set offnortheastward from the lanes of the Foregate, threaded a short,dense patch of woodland, and climbed over a low crest of heath andmeadow to look down upon the winding course of the Severn,downstream from the town. The river was running high and turgid,rolling fallen branches and clumps of turf from the banks down in