Always there were deaths, and usually of the innocent andhelpless. Radulfus stared with locked brows into the chalice of hislinked hands, and thought.

“The prior lived to write letters. Where is henow?”

“Safe, in a manor of a kinsman, some miles from the city.He has ordered our withdrawal, dispersing the brothers whereverthey might best find shelter. I asked if I might come to beg asylumhere in Shrewsbury, and Brother Fidelis with me. And we are come,and are in your hands.”

“Why?” asked the abbot. “Welcome indeed youare, I ask only, why here?”

“Father, some mile or two up-river from here, on a manorcalled Salton, I was born. I had a fancy to see the place again, orat least be near it, before I die.” He smiled, meeting thepenetrating eyes beneath the knotted brows. “It was the onlyproperty my father held in this shire. There I was born, as it sohappened. A man displaced from his last home may well turn back tohis first.”

“You say well. So far as is in us, we will supply thathome. And your young brother?” Fidelis put back the cowl fromhis neck, bent his head reverently, and made a small outward sweepof submissive hands, but no sound.

“Father, he cannot speak for himself, I offer thanks fromus both. I have not been altogether in my best health in Hyde, andBrother Fidelis, out of pure kindness, has become my faithfulfriend and attendant. He has no kinsfolk to whom he can go, heelects to be with me and tend me as before. If you willpermit.” He waited for the acknowledging nod and smile beforehe added: “Brother Fidelis will serve God here with everyfaculty he has. I know him, and I answer for him. But one, hisvoice, he cannot employ. Brother Fidelis is mute.”