The trio crossing the cloister from the south door of the churchwas a cause of considerable curiosity and speculation among thenovices. It was not often the convent housed a troubador from thesouth of France, obviously of some wealth and repute, for hetravelled with two servants and lavish baggage. He and hisentourage had been here three days, delayed in their journey northto Chester by a horse falling lame. Rémy of Pertuis was aman of fifty or so, of striking appearance, a gentleman who valuedhimself on his looks and presentation. Cadfael watched him crosstowards the guesthall; he had not so far had occasion to pay himmuch attention, but if Anselm respected him and approved hismusical conscience he might be worth studying. A fine, burnishedhead of russet hair and a clipped beard. Good carriage and a bodyvery handsomely appointed, fur lining his cloak, gold at his belt.And two attendants following close behind him, a tall fellowsomewhere in his mid-thirties, all muted brown from head to foot,his good but plain clothing placing him discreetly between squireand groom, and a woman, cloaked and hooded, but by her slenderfigure and light step young.

“What’s his need for the girl?” Cadfaelwondered.

“Ah, that he has explained to Brother Denis,” saidAnselm, and smiled. “Meticulously! Not hiskin…”

“I never thought it,” said Cadfael.

“But you may have thought, as I certainly did when firstthey rode in here, that he had a very particular use for her, asindeed he has, though not as I imagined it.” Brother Anselm,for all he had come early to the cloister, had fathomed most of thebyways that were current outside the walls, and had long ago ceasedto be either surprised or shocked by them. “It’s thegirl who performs most of his songs. She has a lovely voice, and hevalues her for it, and highly, but for nothing else, so far as Ican see. She’s an important part of his stock intrade.”