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sacrist of Romsey remained long after it was needful, and eventually headed for the south door with Sister Ursula hovering solicitously at her side. The golden, afternoon sunlight flooded the eastern range of the cloister, and both women blinked in the unaccustomed brightness. The air was warm, yet another shiver ran through Sister Edeva. They had not got as far as the doorway from the cloister to the courtyard and guest range when the older woman halted.
    ‘Sister Ursula, I confess that the thought of dining with Father Abbot is too much. My head is throbbing as if beaten with cudgels. I am no fit guest tonight.’
    ‘Oh dear. I am sorry, Sister. I thought that you were unwell during the office. A headache is indeed a sore trial. Perhaps the journey has been overtiring.’ The young religeuse regarded her companion, who must be nearly twice her age, with the unconscious pity of the young for the old. ‘Would you have me fetch something from the herbalist, some lavender water for your temples perhaps, or some easing draught, and bring it to our chamber?’
    Sister Edeva gave a wan smile, genuinely touched by Sister Ursula’s concern. ‘No, I thank you, though it is a most charitable offer, Sister. I think I will spend the time in St Eadburga’s chapel. It is cool there, and prayer is always efficacious, for matters of the body as well as the soul.’
    She turned and retraced her steps, her pace as ever measured and composed, betraying nothing of her troubled thoughts. Sister Ursula watched her until she re-entered the church, and sighed. She tried very hard to be pious, humble and dutiful, but she would have been weak and chosen rest upon her cot rather than the discipline of prayer. She admired Sister Edeva’s devotion and obedience and reflected that it would be many years before she achieved such self-discipline. Had she been privy to the sacrist of Romsey’s demeanour in the soft silence of St Eadburga’s chapel, she would have been astounded. Sister Edeva sank to her knees and covered her face with her hands rather than linking them in the conventional pose of prayer, and her shoulders shook as she wept silently. When the tears no longer fell, she heaved a great sigh, straightened her back and began her orisons, commencing with a plea for forgiveness of a lie.

    Brother Eudo knelt before the altar of the Lady chapel, head bowed and hands clasped, the very picture of tonsured piety. He knelt, however, because it was a position in which years of experience enabled him to relax, and because anyone entering the chapel would not wish to disturb his prayers and would probably withdraw; unless, of course, they were expecting to meet him there. Eudo had been engaged upon covert meetings for longer than he could recall, but the anticipation still gave him a surge of adrenalin. He was not the sort of man who had ever sought excitement from the clash of swords, but an engagement of wits was another matter. He made it his business to gather more information than he gave, and to put the other person, who was frequently nervous anyway, at a disadvantage. It was an added pleasure to leave them with the belief that he would disclose their identity and secret, without having to reveal his own, at the slightest provocation, or indeed, none at all. This evening he had two assignations, although it was the first that promised to be especially entertaining, and he had arrived early. He liked to feel master of the situation, and being already in possession of the ground, so to speak, gave him an edge. Besides, he was going through permutations of how the interview would progress.
    After some time there came the sound of footsteps, not, he acknowledged with some surprise, furtive, but assured and purposeful without being heavy. He turned his head a little so that he could see who entered, and rose, a satisfied smile upon his lips.
    ‘Ah, I did not think you would disappoint me.’

T hree
    The pace was slow as the weary horsemen