shattering shock to his satisfaction with his own image, andemerged from a long penance deprived of his office as one of theconfessors to the novices, and crushed into surprising humility.For the present, at least, he was much easier to live with, andless vociferous in denouncing the faults of others. In time, nodoubt, he would recover his normal sanctimony, but Cadfael wasspared any censure from him on this occasion.

So in the end Cadfael’s most challenging contention waswith himself. He had indeed taken vows, and he felt the bonds theywound about him tightening when he contemplated leaving this chosenfield. He had told only truth in his presentation of his case tothe abbot; everything was done and stated openly. But did thatabsolve him? Brother Edmund and Brother Winfrid between them wouldnow have to supply his place, prepare medicines, provision theleper hospital at Saint Giles, tend the herb-garden, do not onlytheir own work, but also his.

All this, if his defection lasted beyond the time allotted tohim. By the very act of contemplating that possibility, he knew hewas expecting it. So this decision, before ever he left the gates,had the gravity of life and death in it.

But all the while he knew that he would go.

Hugh came for him on the morning appointed,immediately after Prime, with three of his officers in attendance,all well mounted, and a led horse for Cadfael. Hugh remarked withsatisfaction that his friend’s sternly preoccupied eyesperceptibly brightened approvingly at the sight of a tall, handsomeroan, almost as lofty as Hugh’s raking grey, with amettlesome gait and an arrogant eye, and a narrow white blaze downhis aristocratic nose. Cloaked and booted and ready, Cadfaelbuckled his saddlebags before him, and mounted a little stiffly,but with plain pleasure. Considerately, Hugh refrained fromoffering help. Sixty-five is an age deserving of respect andreverence from the young, but those who have reached it do notalways like to be reminded.