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company of a woman. It is said that on the few occasions he allows himself a tiny spell of relaxation he heads for neighbouring villages where he is not well known and seeks out youths in the scruffiest taverns. That, however, is gossip, and nobody should listen to gossip.
    Today it was not Bermund to whom I had to address my request but Lord Gilbert himself, sitting on a bench by the fire in his great hall in the midst of his family: red-faced, bulging paunch pushing against the rich crimson cloth of his tunic, mouth stretched in a happy smile. After the usual courtesies – he struggled to remember who I was, and then immediately asked after my father, who supplies him with the finest eels – he told me to state my business, and I did so.
    At first I thought he was going to refuse; to his credit, he seemed well aware that quite a few were sick in Aelf Fen just then. Happily for me, his wife, Lady Emma, sat beside him, her little boy playing with a wooden sheep at her feet and her baby girl in her arms. Lady Emma smiled at me in a conspiratorial way and then, turning to her husband, said softly, ‘My dear, we are blessed in that we have not one but two healers here in our village. The younger, Lassair here –’ her dimples deepened as she smiled at me again – ‘is already skilled, but she has much to learn.’ How right she was. ‘To me it would appear that it can only serve to increase both her experience and her confidence to go on this pilgrimage of mercy to aid her kinsman, and the consequential augmentation of her skills can only be of benefit to all of us here in the manor. Do you not agree, my love?’ She has a dainty way of putting things, even if it does take a few moments to understand exactly what she is saying.
    Lord Gilbert had been staring at me indecisively but, at his wife’s appeal, his face cleared and he said, ‘Yes, yes, quite right, my dear wife, quite right!’ Wise man to agree, especially when it was so very clear that she was far more intelligent than he was. Still, that applied to most people. ‘Off you go, er—’
    ‘Lassair,’ supplied his wife.
    ‘Lassair, yes, yes, Lassair!’ Lord Gilbert beamed at me. ‘You and the young man—?’ He looked hopefully at his wife and she supplied the name. ‘Sibert, yes. You and Sibert have my permission. Go safely, treat your brother-in-law—’
    ‘Cousin,’ said his wife.
    ‘—Your cousin, and come back to us when you can,’ he finished. Then, with a wave of his fleshy hand, he dismissed me.
    I was ready, or as ready as I was going to be. I don’t know how I appeared to others, but inside I was nervous and fearful, my confidence and my courage right down in my boots. Morcar was my cousin, my kinsman, and, although I did not know him very well, he was of my blood. His mother, my aunt, thought the sun rose and set in him. The weight of responsibility sat so heavily on my shoulders that it was all I could do to keep upright.
    The heavy, leather bag of remedies that Edild and I had prepared stood, its straps neatly fastened, by the door. Sibert was going to carry it. Now I was fussing over my own small pack, stowing clean underlinen, a washcloth, the bone comb my brother Haward had made for me, the beautiful shawl Elfritha had given me, a spare hood . . .
    I sensed Edild’s presence behind me and turned.
    ‘Lassair, step outside for a moment, please,’ she said in a low voice.
    My eyes flashed to Alvela, who was now sitting propped against the wall, her head on my pillow. She looked dazed, but she was awake. Sort of. I stood up and followed Edild outside into the sunshine of early afternoon.
    ‘You will have to leave very soon,’ Edild said, ‘for you must reach Ely before dusk or the gates will be locked. But there is something I must say to you before you go.’ She paused, gathering her thoughts, and I guessed she was going to impart some final advice as to how I should treat my patient.
    I certainly did not expect what she