“Well, well, did I say you had no faith?” wondered BrotherCadfael, charmed and disarmed. “I might worm my own way in, there couldbe ways, but how am I to recommend a graceless rogue like you? What are yougood at, to be taken along on such an errand?”

“I’m a good hand with mules,” said Brother John hopefully,“and you don’t think Prior Robert intends to go on foot, I suppose?Or to do the grooming and feeding and watering himself? Or the mucking-out?They’ll need somebody to do the hard work and wait on them. Whynot me?”

It was, indeed, something nobody as yet seemed to have thought of. And whytake a lay-brother, if there was a cloister-brother, with a sweet voice in theMass, willing to do the sweating into the bargain? And the boy deserved hisouting, since he was willing to earn it the hard way. Besides, he might beuseful before the end. If not to Prior Robert, to Brother Cadfael.

“We’ll see,” he said, and with that drove his mutinousprotege back to the work in hand. But after dinner, in the somnolent half-hourof sleep for the elders and play for the novices, he sought out Abbot Heribertin his study.

“Father Abbot, it is on my mind that we are undertaking thispilgrimage to Gwytherin without full consideration. First we must send to thebishop of Bangor, in whose see Gwytherin lies, for without his approval thematter cannot proceed. Now it is not essential to have a speaker fluent inWelsh there, since the bishop is obviously conversant with Latin. But not everyparish priest in Wales has that tongue, and it is vital to be able to speakfreely with the priest at Gwytherin, should the bishop sanction our quest. Butmost of all, the see of Bangor is wholly within the sovereignty of the king ofGwynedd, and surely his goodwill and permission are essential as those of thechurch. The princes of Gwynedd speak only Welsh, though they have learnedclerks. Father Prior, certainly, has a smattering of Welsh, but…”