“Aline says that she has no great confidence in thegratitude of princes, but that Stephen has the right to choose hisown officers, wisely or foolishly.”

“And you?” said Cadfael.

“Why, if he gives me his countenance and writ I’llgo on keeping all his borders for him, and if not, then I’llgo back to Maesbury and keep the north, at least, against Chester,if the earl tries again to enlarge his palatinate. AndStephen’s man must take charge of west, east and south. Andyou, old friend, must pay a visit or two over Christmas, whileI’m away, and keep Aline company.”

“Of all of us,” said Cadfael piously, “thatmakes me the best blessed at this coming feast. I’ll praygood joy to my abbot in his mission, and to you in yours. My joy isassured.”

They had buried old Father Adam, seventeen yearsvicar of the parish of Holy Cross in the Foregate of Shrewsbury,only one week before Abbot Radulfus was summoned to the legatinecouncil at Westminster. The advowson of the living was vested inthe abbey, and the great church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul wasequally the parish church of Holy Cross, the nave open to thepeople living here outside the town gates, in this growing suburbwhich almost considered itself a borough like the borough withinthe walls. The reeve of the Foregate, Erwald the wheelwright,publicly if unofficially used the title of provost, and abbey,church and town humoured his harmless flourish, for theMonks’ Foregate was a relatively law-abiding, respectabledistrict, and gave barely any trouble to the properly constitutedauthorities of the town itself. An occasional squabble betweenseculars and abbey, a brief tangle between the high-spirited youngof Foregate and town, what was there in that to worry anyone beyondthe day?

Father Adam had been there so long that all the young had grown