“Hugh Bigod has made haste from Norfolk, he’s herebefore us… Those are some of his men. And there, you see theman on the black horse yonder? That’s Reginald FitzRoy,half-brother to the empress, the younger one, the one Philip seizednot a month ago, and the king made him set him free. Iwonder,” said Yves, “how Philip dared touch him, withRobert’s hand always over him, for they do show verybrotherly to each other. But give him his due, Stephen does playfair. He’d granted safe conducts, he stood bythem.”

They had reached the broad gate of the priory enclave, andturned into a great court alive with colour and quivering withmovement. The few habited Benedictine brothers who were doing theirbest to go about their duties and keep the horarium of the day weretotally lost among this throng of visiting magnates and theirservitors, some arriving, some riding out to see the town or visitacquaintances, grooms coming and going with horses nervous and edgyin such a crowd, squires unsaddling and unloading theirlords’ baggage. Hugh, entering, drew aside to give freepassage to a tall horseman, splendid in his dress and wellattended, who was just mounting to ride forth.

“Roger of Hereford,” said Yves, glowing, “thenew earl. He whose father was killed by mishap, out hunting, acouple of years ago. And the man just looking back from the stepsyonder—that’s the empress’s steward, Humphrey deBohun. She must be already arrived—”

He broke off abruptly, stiffening, his mouth open on theunfinished sentence, his eyes fixed in an incredulous stare.Cadfael, following the direction of the boy’s fixed gaze,beheld a man striding down the stone steps of the guesthallopposite, for once the sole figure on the wide staircase, and in