“Welsh?” asked Cadfael, eyeing the child thoughtfully. He must surely havebeen named for Bran the Blessed, who first brought the gospel to Wales.

“The father was.” Mark turned to look his friend earnestly and hopefully inthe face. “Do you think he can be cured? Fully cured? At least he’s fed, now.The woman will die here. In any case—she has grown indifferent, kind enough,but glad to have him off her hands. But I do believe he may yet go back wholeinto the world.”

Or out of it, thought Cadfael; for if he follows you so assiduouslyhe cannot but get the savor of church or cloister, and the abbey is close athand. “A bright child?” he asked.

“Brighter than many that are brought up to the Latin, and can reckon andread. Brighter than many a one who goes in fine linen, and with a nursecoddling him. I shall try to teach him somewhat, as I can.”

They walked back together to the doorway of the hospital. The hum ofexpectant voices had risen, and along the highroad other sounds were graduallydrawing near, compounded of the jingling of harness, the calls of falconers,conversation, laughter, the muffled beat of hooves using the grassy verge inpreference to the naked road. One of the bridal processions was approaching.

“They say the bridegroom will be the first to come,” said Mark, stepping fromthe open porch into the dimness of the hall, and leading the way through to thecorner where the medicine cupboard was kept. Fulke Reynald, a steward of theabbey and superior of the hospital, had one key; Brother Cadfael held theother. He opened his scrip, and began to stow away the preparations he hadbrought. “Do you know anything about them?” asked Mark, succumbing tocuriosity.

“Them?” murmured Cadfael, preoccupied with his review of the gaps in theshelves.

“These gentlefolk who are coming to marry here. All I know is their names. Ishould not have paid so much heed,” said Mark, shame-faced, “except that ourpeople here, who have nothing but their sores and maimings, have learned moreof it than I have, only God knows how, and it is like a spark warming them. Asthough anything bright that shines on them is more aid than I can give. Yet allit is, is a wedding!”