The chapel was a noble one. A high vaulted roof swallowed the light of the candles. The smell of fine wax burning mingled with the smoke of the incense that could be seen curling up into the shadowed roof. A stone screen, finely carved, cut off the rear of the building from the place where the monks worshipped. Behind this screen were the seats for the lay folk and travellers, the monastery’s guests. Through the fretted carving Alexander could just glimpse the crucifix above the high altar; it seemed to be floating in the smoky candle-light. None of the monks was visible, but the singing rose strong and true into the vaulting.

And yes, the royal party was there, across the central aisle from him, a dozen or so people. Alexander, his head apparently bent in prayer, looked sideways through his fingers, studying them.

First, the lady herself, queen, enchantress, devout or devious; she was there, demurely hidden behind a heavy veil. Her dress was of a rich russet-colour, and over it she wore a brown cloak against the chill which could strike, even on a summer evening, in a stone-built chapel. He caught a glimpse of a slender wrist encircled with gold, and the glint of a sapphire on the folded hands. Cloak and veil hid the rest.

Beside her knelt an elderly man, his noble old face lifted towards the high altar, his eyes closed in prayer. He was soberly dressed, but the grey stuff of his gown was good, and the crucifix he held in the fine, thin hands was of silver crusted with some deep red stones that could be rubies. Beyond him could just be glimpsed a slight figure, no more than a child, it seemed, but robed and cloaked like a monk. That would surely be the boy destined for the novitiate. At the boy’s other side knelt a priest. The other men and women, kneeling at a little distance in the rear, must be their attendants.

The office came to an end. A long pause of quiet, then the slow shuffle of feet beyond the screen as the monks filed out. The lady, rising, helped the old man to his feet. The two of them, with the boy between them, left the chapel. The rest followed, Alexander close behind them.

Outside there was a pause, before the party broke up. The lady stood for a few minutes, talking to the other two women of the party – her waiting-women, no doubt. Alexander looked to see her take leave of the old man and go with the women towards the quarters reserved for female travellers, but when at length she turned away, she went, still holding the old man’s arm, towards an imposing building just beyond the chapel. The abbot’s house, presumably; and of course a lady as important as Nimuë would be lodged there, not housed with the common travellers … One of the women followed her, the other turning aside for the guests’ quarters. The priest had already vanished, with the boy, through a door into the main monastery buildings. Another boy in page’s uniform ran forward to speak with the old man, then, dismissed, followed the servants who were making for the men’s dormitory. But he went slowly, loitering some way behind the rest of the party, reluctant, perhaps, as one always was at that age, to be sent to bed.