'I've come for the salt.'

'Then why didn't you knock?'

'I only just got here.'

Alice went to an alcove. John watched her spoon salt into a small pot and hand it to the woman who left hurriedly. He waited for Alice to return to the table.

'Do you think she was listening?'

'I don't know,' Alice shook her head. 'I've suspected Sarah for some time. She works in the kitchen. I've caught her talking to the butcher when he delivers the meat. He's giving her money and I don't think it's for amorous favours.'

'When you say butcher, do you mean Walter Gallor?'

'Yes, the big man. The one who walks around the streets in a bailiffs uniform. Ralf has seen him go up to the abbot's chambers as if he reports to him. Not even the vicar does that. Ralf thinks he's spying on people.'

Alice stared at the table for a few moments before continuing.

'I think he's spying on me. Ralf says there's a lot of tension in the monastery. Bradford has been slow to hand out the benefices that became vacant on Abbot Brunyng's death. It's his way of securing the monks' loyalty and they are competing with one another to please him. One way is to repeat the things he likes to hear. They're talking a lot about the almshouse … calling it a Trojan horse. And there's talk about me. Some of the monks say I'm a witch.'

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She went to a box and returned with some books.

'These might harm our cause if they were discovered. They are very precious to me. With their guidance and the blessing of the Holy Mother I have saved lives and healed the sick.'

Tears appeared in her eyes.

'Pray, take care of them.'

She placed the books in front of Harald.

'They are a repository of ancient knowledge and it would be a sin to destroy them. One day the church will recognise their true merit.'

Harald thumbed through the musty volumes with a sense of foreboding. Some were covered in signs of the zodiac and symbols from the Jewish and Islamic religions. Others were written in a language he recognised as belonging to the heretical Cathars who had been put down with much slaughter two centuries earlier. He racked his brain for a place to hide them.




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