I n the hills above the priory the shepherds collect together the sheep for shearing. Ramon stands one hand shielding his eyes watching the gathering sea of white his ears assaulted by the yells and calls of the shepherd and farmer.
It has always been one of his favorite sights: the sheep losing their winter coats ready for the new season. But today the peace does not soothe him. He doubts that anything could soothe him.
He forces his back straight and whips around to face his destination: the rooms of Brother Francis in the priory below.
As if from nowhere Bernat appears. “Where are you going?”
