situation from which he had extricated himself safely only byvirtue of a heroic rearguard action, which had cost theking’s steward, William Martel, his liberty, and Eudo Blounthis life. Stephen, in honor bound, had paid a high price to redeemMartel. No one, in this world, could ransom back Eudo Blount. Hiselder son became lord of Longner in his place. His younger son,Cadfael recalled, a novice at the abbey of Ramsey, had brought hisfather’s body home for burial in March.

“A fine, tall man he was,” Hugh recalled, “nomore than two or three years past forty. And handsome!There’s neither of his lads can match him. Strange how thelot falls. The lady’s some years older, and sick with sometrouble that’s worn her to a shadow and gives her no restfrom pain, yet she lingers on here, and he’s gone. Does sheever send to you for medicines? The lady of Longner? I forget hername.”

“Donata,” said Cadfael. “Donata is her name.Now you mention it, there was a time when her maid used to come fordraughts to help her with the pain. But not for a year or more now.I thought she might have been on the mend, and felt less need ofthe herbs. Little enough I could ever do for her. There arediseases beyond any small skill of mine.”

“I saw her when they buried Eudo,” said Hugh, gazingsombrely out through the open hall door at the summer duskgathering blue and luminous above his garden. “No,there’s no remission. So little flesh she has between herskin and bone, I swear the light shone through her hand when sheraised it, and her face grey as lavender, and shrunken into deeplines. Eudo sent for me when he made up his mind to go to Oxford,to the siege. I did wonder how he could bear to leave her in suchcase. Stephen had not called him, and even if he had, there was noneed for him to go himself. His only due was an esquire, armed andmounted, for forty days. Yet he saw his affairs in order, made overhis manor to his son, and went.”