To Aldred she looked like every other baby: round-faced, bald as a priest, dribbling, charmless. “Yes, she’s beautiful,” he said. That was his second white lie today. He would have to pray for clemency.

“What brings you here?” said Edgar. “It can’t be the pleasure of visiting Degbert.”

“Is there somewhere we can talk without fear of being overheard?”

“I’ll show you my brewhouse,” Edgar said eagerly. “Just a minute.” He stepped inside the alehouse and came out again without the baby.

The brewhouse was close to the river, so that water did not have to be carried too far, and it was on the upstream side. As in all riverside settlements, the villagers dipped their buckets upstream and disposed of waste downstream.

The new building had a roof of oak tiles. “I thought you planned a stone roof,” Aldred said.

“I made a mistake,” Edgar said. “I found I couldn’t cut stone into tiles. They were either too fat or too thin. I had to change my design.” He looked a bit abashed. “In the future I need to remember that not every bright idea I get is practicable.”

Inside, a strong, spicy odor of fermentation came from a big bronze cauldron suspended over a square stone-walled hearth. Barrels and sacks were stacked in a separate room. The stone floor was clean. “It’s a little palace!” said Aldred.

Edgar smiled. “It’s designed to be fireproof. Why did you want to talk privately? I’m eager to know.”

“I’m on my way to Combe.”

Edgar understood immediately. “Wynstan and Degbert will be there in a few days.”

“And I want to see what they get up to. But I have a problem. I can’t follow them around without being noticed, especially if they go into houses of ill fame.”

“What’s the answer?”

“I want you to help me keep an eye on them. You’re less likely to attract attention.”

Edgar grinned. “Is it really a monk who is asking me to visit Mags’s house?”

Aldred grimaced with distaste. “I can hardly believe it myself.”

Edgar turned serious again. “I can go to Combe to buy supplies. Dreng trusts me.”

Aldred was surprised. “Does he?”

“He set a trap for me, gave me too much money for stones, expecting me to steal the surplus, and was shocked when I gave it back to him. Now he’s glad to have me do the work and take the strain off his famous bad back.”

“Do you need anything from Combe?”

“We’re going to have to buy new ropes soon, and they’re cheaper in Combe. I could probably leave tomorrow.”

“We shouldn’t travel together. I don’t want people to realize we’re collaborating.”

“Then I’ll leave the day after Midsummer, and take the raft.”

“Perfect,” Aldred said gratefully.

They stepped out of the brewhouse. The sun was going down. Aldred said: “When you get there, you’ll find me at the priory.”

“Travel safely,” said Edgar.

Five days after Midsummer, Edgar was eating cheese in the alehouse known as the Sailors when he heard that Wynstan and Degbert had arrived in Combe that morning and were staying with Wigelm.