Before Aldred could examine his heart, Leo looked up.

At first he did not recognize Aldred. A busy man dealing courteously with an unwelcome interruption, he gave a perfunctory smile and said: “How can I help you?”

“By remembering me, you idiot,” Aldred said, and he stepped inside.

Leo stood up, mouth open in surprise, doubt creasing his forehead. “Are you Aldred?”

“The same,” Aldred said, walking toward him with open arms.

Leo raised his hands in a protective gesture, and Aldred understood at once that Leo did not want to be embraced. That was probably wise: people who knew their history might suspect that they were resuming their old relationship. Aldred stopped immediately and took a step back, but he continued to smile, and said: “It’s so good to see you.”

Leo relaxed a little. “You, too,” he said.

“We could shake hands.”

“Yes, we could.”

They shook across the table. Aldred held Leo’s hand in both of his, just for a moment, then let go. He had great affection for Leo but, he now realized, he had lost all desire for physical intimacy with him. He experienced the same surge of fondness that he sometimes felt for old Tatwine the scribe, or poor blind Cuthbert, or Mother Agatha, but none of that formerly irresistible yearning to touch body to body, skin to skin.

“Draw up a stool,” said Leo. “Can I give you a cup of wine?”

“I’d prefer a tankard of ale,” said Aldred. “The weaker, the better.”

Leo went into his storeroom and returned with a large wooden mug of a dark brew.

Aldred drank thirstily. “It’s been a long and dusty road.”

“And dangerous, if you encounter the Vikings.”

“I took a northerly route. The fighting is in the south, I believe.”

“What brings you here after all these years?”

Aldred told him the story. Leo already knew about the forgery—everybody knew about it—but he was not fully aware of Wynstan’s campaign of revenge against Aldred. As Aldred talked, Leo relaxed, no doubt feeling reassured that Aldred had no wish to resume their affair.

“We certainly have more old bones than we need,” Leo said when Aldred finished. “Whether Theodric will be willing to part with any of them is another question.”

Leo was now almost completely amiable—but not quite. He was holding something back, perhaps guarding a secret. So be it, thought Aldred; I don’t need to know everything about his life now, as long as he’s on my side.

Aldred said: “Theodric was a grumpy old stick-in-the-mud while I was here. He seemed to resent young people particularly.”

“And he’s got worse. But let’s go and see him now, before Nones. He’ll be in a relatively good mood after his dinner.”

Aldred was pleased: Leo had become an ally.

Leo stood up, but as he did so, another monk appeared, entering and speaking at the same time. He was about ten years younger than Aldred and Leo, and handsome, with dark eyebrows and full lips. “They’re charging us for four wheels of cheese, but they’ve only sent three,” said the newcomer, then he saw Aldred. “Oh!” he said, and his eyebrows went up. “Who’s this?” He walked around the table and stood beside Leo.