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the particular problems of my position here as the stable cat?
    Helewise and Father Gilbert had, over the years, established an excellent relationship. It was helped by the fact that they genuinely liked one another and were good friends. Although Father Gilbert took his responsibility for Helewise’s soul far too seriously for there to be any question of leniency with her, nevertheless, once he had heard her confession and given her penance, he frequently managed to turn their subsequent conversation round to matters that caused her anxiety. There had been the time, for example, when Sister Euphemia, the infirmarer, had reported to Helewise that the daughter of a rich and influential merchant was not, as her fond father believed, suffering from a stomach upset but was in fact pregnant. The girl had quietly lost the baby and Helewise had not corrected the father when he said what a relief it was to see his girl over her sickness and with no harm done.
    Having heard her confess her lie and awarded her penance, Father Gilbert had remarked gently that it was wise to ask oneself three things before answering a difficult question. Is my reply true? Is it necessary? Is it kind?
    ‘And how should one act if only some of the answers are in the affirmative?’ Helewise had asked.
    Father Gilbert had given her his sweet smile. ‘Abbess Helewise, I usually act on the principle that three out of three means I give the answer, no matter how difficult; two out of three means I may or may not, depending on the circumstances; and one out of three means I keep my mouth shut.’
    Imagine, Helewise thought now, such a conversation with this dry fellow. She wondered absently just how long Father Micah was intending to go on haranguing her; already it felt as if he had been ranting away for hours. She began to pray quietly for a diversion.
    Quite soon her prayer was answered. There was another tap on the door and, as soon as Helewise said, ‘Come in!’ Sister Ursel appeared once more and announced that Sir Josse d’Acquin had just ridden through the gates and, if it was not too much trouble, would like a few words with the Abbess.
    Sir Josse, Sir Josse, how very fond I am of you! thought the Abbess.
    With a carefully polite inclination of the head to Father Micah, she said, ‘A shame that we cannot continue our conversation, Father, but I know how busy you are and I would not detain you longer.’ Then, turning to the porteress, she added, ‘Please, Sister Ursel, ask Sir Josse to come in.’

3
    ‘They are an abomination in the sight of God. They must be cast into the purifying flames, every last man, woman and child.’
    The thin priest’s eyes, fixed on Josse, were dark and impenetrable. As black as the cloth of his robe, and reflecting as little light. As little life; it was difficult to believe that a human heart pumped within the narrow chest. That a human brain was contained within the pale, shaven skull.
    Josse, the guest at the Abbey, waited to see if the Abbess would speak. But although her flushed face appeared to indicate a degree of indignation, she kept her peace. Josse was at a loss to understand what was going on. Having been ushered into the Abbess’s room by a harried Sister Ursel, he had discovered that she was not alone, as he had expected, but stood stiff with outrage before a scrawny, white-faced priest who seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her chair.
    And somehow the conversation had turned to the subject of heresy. The Father, it seemed, had been well into his stride when Josse entered the room; Josse had overheard some remark about those who abandoned the ways of righteousness not being worthy of consideration, and apparently the priest had cited heretics as a prime example.
    With an apologetic glance at the Abbess, Josse said carefully, ‘Are not heretics also the children of God, Father?’
    Father Micah’s deep eyes seemed to burn with fervour. He said, with the finality of the weigher of souls