“You will wish to confer strictly in private,” saidCadfael, following the sub-prior up the stone steps to the halldoor. “With your leave, Sulien, this young brother and I willlook in upon your mother. If, of course, she is well enough andwilling to receive visits.”

“Yours, always!’ said Sulien, with a brief, flashingsmile over his shoulder. “And a new face will refresh her.You know how she views life and the world now, verypeacefully.”

It had not always been so. Donata Blount had suffered years ofsome consuming and incurable disease that devoured her substanceslowly and with intense pain. Only with the last stages of herbodily weakness had she almost outlived pain itself, and grownreconciled to the world she was leaving as she drew nearer to thedoor opening upon another.

“It will be very soon,” said Sulien simply. Hehalted in the high dim hall. “Father Herluin, be pleased toenter the solar with me, and I will send for some refreshment foryou. My brother is at the farm. I am sorry he is not here to greetyou, but we had no prior word. You will excuse him. If your errandis to me, it may be better so.” And to Cadfael: “Go into my mother’s chamber. I know she is awake, and never doubtbut you are always welcome to her.”

The Lady Donata, confined to her bed at last, laypropped on pillows in her small bedchamber, her window unshuttered,a little brazier burning in one corner on the bare stone of thefloor. She was nothing but fine bones and translucent skin, thehands quiet on her coverlet like fallen petals of lilies in theirtransparent emaciation. Her face was honed into a fragile mask ofsilver bones, and the deep pits of her eyes were filled withice-blue shadow round the startling, imperishable beauty of theeyes themselves, still clear and intelligent, and the darkest andmost luminous of blues. The spirit encased in this frail shell wasstill alert, indomitable, and sharply interested in the world abouther, without any fear of leaving it, or any reluctance todepart.