The unaccustomed hours on horseback were making her sore, so she was relieved to stop for dinner and get off the pony. When they had eaten they sat on the ground with their backs to a broad tree trunk, to rest and let their food go down before resuming the journey.

Caris was thinking about Godwyn, and wondering what she would find at St-John-in-the-Forest, when suddenly she realized that she and Merthin were about to make love. She could not have explained how she knew – they were not even touching – but she had no doubt. She turned to look at him and saw that he sensed it, too. He smiled at her ruefully, and in his eyes she saw ten years of hope and regrets, pain and tears.

He took her hand and kissed her palm, then he put his lips to the soft inside of her wrist, and closed his eyes. “I can feel your pulse,” he said quietly.

“You can’t tell much from the pulse,” she breathed. “You’ll have to give me a thorough examination.”

He kissed her forehead, and her eyelids, and her nose. “I hope you won’t be embarrassed by my seeing your naked body.”

“Don’t fret – I’m not taking my clothes off in this weather.”

They both giggled.

He said: “Perhaps you would be kind enough to lift the skirt of your robe, so that I may proceed with the check-up.”

She reached down and took hold of the hem of her dress. She was wearing hose that came up to her knees. She lifted her dress slowly, revealing her ankles, her shins, her knees, and then the white skin of her thighs. She was feeling playful, but in the back of her mind she wondered if he could detect the changes wrought in her body by the last ten years. She had got thinner, yet at the same time her bottom had spread. Her skin was a little less supple and smooth than it had been. Her breasts were not as firm and upright. What would he think? She suppressed the worry and played the game. “Is that sufficient, for medical purposes?”

“Not quite.”

“But I’m afraid I’m not wearing underdrawers – such luxuries are considered inappropriate for us nuns.”

“We physicians are obliged to be very thorough, no matter how distasteful we find it.”

“Oh, dear,” she said with a smile. “What a shame. All right, then.” Watching his face she slowly lifted her skirt until it was around her waist.

He stared at her body, and she could see that he was breathing harder. “My, my,” he said. “This is a very severe case. In fact -” he looked up at her face, swallowed, and said – “I can’t joke about this any more.”

She put her arms around him and pulled his body to her own, squeezing as hard as she could, clinging to him as if she were saving him from drowning. “Make love to me, Merthin,” she said. “Now, quickly.”

The priory of St-John-in-the-Forest looked tranquil in the afternoon light – a sure sign that something was wrong, Caris thought. The little cell was traditionally self-sufficient in food, and was surrounded by fields, moist with rain, that needed ploughing and harrowing. But no one was at work.

When they got closer, they saw that the little cemetery next to the church had a row of fresh graves. “It seems the plague may have reached this far,” Merthin said.

Caris nodded. “So Godwyn’s cowardly escape plan failed.” She could not help feeling a glow of vengeful satisfaction.

Merthin said: “I wonder if he himself has fallen victim.”

Caris found herself hoping he had, but was too ashamed to say so.

She and Merthin rode around the silent monastery to what was obviously the stable yard. The door was open, and the horses had been let out and were grazing a patch of meadow around a pond. But no one appeared to help the visitors unsaddle.

They walked through the empty stables into the interior. It was eerily quiet, and Caris wondered if all the monks were dead. They looked into a kitchen, which Caris observed was not as clean as it should be, and a bakery with a cold oven. Their footsteps echoed around the cool grey arcades of the cloisters. Then, approaching the entrance to the church, they met Brother Thomas.

“You found us!” he said. “Thank God.”

Caris embraced him. She knew that women’s bodies did not present a temptation to Thomas. “I’m glad you’re alive,” she said.

“I fell ill and got better,” he explained.

“Not many survive.”

“I know.”

“Tell us what happened.”

“Godwyn and Philemon planned it well,” Thomas said. “There was almost no warning. Godwyn addressed the chapter, and told the story of Abraham and Isaac to show that God sometimes asks us to do things that appear wrong. Then he told us we were leaving that night. Most of the monks were glad to get away from the plague, and those that had misgivings were instructed to remember their vow of obedience.”

Caris nodded. “I can imagine. It’s not hard to obey orders when they are so strongly in your own self-interest.”

“I’m not proud of myself.”

Caris touched the stump of his left arm. “I meant no reproof, Thomas.”

Merthin said: “All the same, I’m surprised no one leaked the destination.”

“That’s because Godwyn didn’t tell us where we were going. Most of us didn’t know even after we arrived – we had to ask the local monks what place this was.”

“But the plague caught up with you.”

“You’ve seen the graveyard. All the St John monks are there except Prior Saul, who is buried in the church. Almost all the Kingsbridge men are dead. A few ran away after the sickness broke out here – God knows what happened to them.”

Caris recalled that Thomas had always been close to one particular monk, a sweet-natured man a few years younger than he. Hesitantly she said: “And Brother Matthias?”

“Dead,” Thomas said brusquely; then tears came to his eyes, and he looked away, embarrassed.

Caris put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m very sorry.”

“So many people have suffered bereavement,” he said.

Caris decided it would be kinder not to dwell on Matthias. “What about Godwyn and Philemon?”

“Philemon ran away. Godwyn is alive and well – he hasn’t caught it.”

“I have a message for Godwyn from the bishop.”

“I can imagine.”

“You’d better take me to him.”

“He’s in the church. He set up a bed in a side chapel. He’s convinced that’s why he hasn’t fallen ill. Come with me.”

They crossed the cloisters and entered the little church. It smelled more like a dormitory. The wall painting of the Day of Judgement at the east end seemed grimly appropriate now. The nave was strewn with straw and littered with blankets, as if a crowd of people had been sleeping here; but the only person present was Godwyn. He was lying face down on the dirt floor in front of the altar, his arms stretched out sideways. For a moment she thought he was dead, then she realized this was simply the attitude of extreme penitence.

Thomas said: “You have visitors, Father Prior.”

Godwyn remained in position. Caris would have assumed he was putting on a show, but something about his stillness made her think he was sincerely seeking forgiveness.

Then he got slowly to his feet and turned round.

He was pale and thin, Caris saw, and he looked tired and anxious.

“You,” he said.

“You’ve been discovered, Godwyn,” she said. She was not going to call him ‘father’. He was a miscreant and she had caught him. She felt deep satisfaction.

He said: “I suppose Tam Hiding betrayed me.”

His mind was as sharp as ever, Caris noted. “You tried to escape justice, but you failed.”

“I have nothing to fear from justice,” he said defiantly. “I came here in the hope of saving the lives of my monks. My error was to leave it too late.”

“An innocent man doesn’t sneak away under cover of night.”

“I had to keep my destination secret. It would have defeated my purpose to allow anyone to follow us here.”