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EDUCATION IN THE PLANTATION SECTOR

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Happy and fulfilled children are a gift to the world

(Excerpted from the autobiography of Merrill J. Fernando)


Apart from livelihoods, post-tsunami, children’s education was one of the most deeply-affected dimensions. Our team established pre-schools for children in the affected areas and supplied teachers, specially trained by the Foundation not only to educate but also to handle emotional and physical trauma, resulting from the tsunami experience.

The outcomes of the educational assistance initiatives are probably most visible in the plantation sector, across three Regional Plantation Companies, benefiting several thousand children in terms of learning, equipment, accessories, and other facilities and, equally importantly, nutrition. At a higher level, bright students have been provided scholarships to enable them to pursue university education. This initiative has already produced two medical doctors and two lawyers, whilst there are five such students currently reading for their medical degrees in the medical faculties of the Jaffna, Rajarata, and Peradeniya Universities. The present judge in the Magistrate’s Court of Jaffna is also a direct beneficiary of the plantation residents’ scholarship programme.

The inadequacies of education in plantation areas are not visible to the mainstream because of the insular nature of the plantation society. Most plantation youth, male and female, because of overcrowded housing, a reluctance to engage in the traditional manual work of their parents, the desire for easy money, and the real need for augmenting family income, drop out very early from educational systems and seek employment outside.

However, due to lack of marketable skills and the minimalistic level of formal education, these youth are relegated to employment mostly below the blue collar level, condemning them and their progeny to the same vicious cycle of marginalization. Without assistance from specially-designed schemes, providing plantation youth access to higher education, the plantation sector will remain, well into the foreseeable future, a source of unskilled, low-paid labour, for the benefit of the more affluent external society.

The sweat and toil of our plantation workers, for over a century, have helped create billionaires in the other countries, in Europe and elsewhere, and in our country as well. I was first exposed to this culture of exploitation on my first visit to England, more than six decades ago when I underwent training as a Tea Taster at Mincing Lane, then the global centre of the tea trade. However, the worker who produces the tea, which enriches so many others in the commercial pipeline, remains marginalized. Unless the value created by the tea remains in the country and a surplus is channeled back for the workers’ benefit, as Dilmah is doing, the plantation worker’s lot will not change.

Personal experience

When I visited the tsunami-hit areas of the south, I saw for myself the impact of the devastation. I met children who had lost parents and siblings, and parents who had lost their children. People had lost homes and livelihoods. Some of these children had been so traumatized by their experiences, that they would not communicate or interact with society, in their silence and mute withdrawal, finding a measure of solace for an inexplicable tragedy.

Those who could muster the will to talk related the most harrowing tales of personal loss and deprivation. Listening to individual stories of such tragedies I felt so distressed that I could not even imagine how devastating it would have been to the individual who was telling me the story.

On one of his visits to the north, two doctors serving in the region had met Dilhan and requested him to build a new wing for the Accident Ward of the Kayts Hospital. I was not confident of the benefits of this kind of initiative, largely because of a disappointing experience previously with the Maharagama Cancer Hospital. The Foundation donated to the hospital a mammogram machine, which was idle for months after installation as the hospital did not provide X-ray film. However, Dilhan ascertained that the doctors who approached him were genuine and, about a year later, we completed construction of the new wing.

At Kayts – with a happy beneficiary

I attended the opening with my friend Ravi Thambiayah. After the ceremony, people of the area came and thanked me personally, assuring me that the new wing would actually save lives, which otherwise would be lost. Their gratitude was overwhelming. Such was their appreciation that they perceived me as an emissary of the gods they worshiped.

Apparently, in that area, people struck down by sudden and serious illnesses, snake-bites, and those injured in accidents, normally had to travel to the Jaffna Hospital, 16 km away and because of the inadequacy of transport facilities, two hours’ travel time away at best. With the new wing, such patients would be attended to within minutes. I was told that over 40,000 people were dependent on that hospital.

It takes little to enrich the lives of simple people, to whom the fulfillment of a basic need is an unexpected luxury. The Kayts experience encouraged me to extend the Foundation’s assistance in the north, and the next result was the construction of a new, three-storey, 90-bed ward block for the Point Pedro General Hospital, opened for operations in February 2021.

The existing ward buildings were over a century old and dilapidated, severely limiting the services the hospital could offer to over 150,000 people who depended on it. This initiative was co-sponsored, by the Ian and Barbara Karan Foundation for Youth Development. In fact, it was declared open on my behalf by Ian and his wife Barbara, in association with K. Ravindran and Rajan Asirwatham, both Trustees of the MJF Charitable Foundation, and my son Dilhan.

Symbolically, Ian Karan, my dear friend of many years, had been born in the very same hospital in 1939! Orphaned at a young age, he received his early education at Hartley College, Point Pedro. Thereafter, he entered the London School of Economics. Subsequently securing employment in a shipping company in Hamburg, in 1975 he set up a shipping company of his own.

Selling off that business in 1996, he established a container leasing company which, by the time he sold it a few years later, had become one of the largest such enterprises in the world. His foundation supports youth development, particularly in Sri Lanka, through the nationwide promotion of charitable initiatives, institutions, and projects. Like me, Ian is also a man of simple origins and strong in faith, who later became a successful entrepreneur. He too subscribes to the principle of the entrepreneur’s responsibility towards social justice.

Ian, Barbara, and his children became great friends with my family as well. All my visits to Hamburg included meetings with Ian and his family; knowing my fondness for opera and other performing arts, Ian and Barbara would ensure that my visits to them were enlivened by attendance at the Hamburg State Opera, for which they would very kindly get tickets for me.

The world of children – the dark side

I am haunted by the recurrent image of little children born with serious disabilities, undergoing rehabilitation and therapy, at both the Moratuwa and Kalkudah Centres. As a man with an abiding faith in a merciful God, the afflictions of such children is to me an inexplicable tragedy. Dilhan has always warned me against showing outward demonstrations of my distress on my visits to them, as that could upset the parents. However, I am also deeply grateful to providence that I have been able to contribute in some measure to make such lives more comfortable.

Children with congenital impairments are a heart-break for the concerned families. Down syndrome, cerebral palsy, and autism are conditions, which affected children and their families are compelled to live with till the end as there is no cure. Such children are marginalized and isolated, both by society and often by their own families. Both our Moratuwa and the East Centres provide for the care and training of disadvantaged children, as well as their family members, who need to be educated in the management and care of affected children. These programmes relieve parents from much of the pressure of caring for such children.

The stigmatization that such children are subject to by mainstream society, was brought home to me in a most unpleasant development soon after the commencement of the operations of the Ambagahawatte Centre, which specializes in the rehabilitation of children with cerebral palsy and other developmental disorders.

Families in the immediate neighbourhood protested at its purpose and activities, as they considered the housing of such disadvantaged children so close to their homes as potential for bad luck for themselves! Such superstitious and insensitive attitudes prevalent in mainstream society strongly reinforce the need for special initiatives to assist the disabled and to empower their families as well.

These children are also trained, educated, and stimulated by well-trained and caring staff to create art and, in various other ways, such as dance and theatre, to express themselves. Our annual MJF Centre ‘Celebrating Differences’ event, has become an ideal platform for the self-expression of these children, under normal circumstances condemned to lives of loneliness and an absence of recognition.

The performances that these differently-abled children produce year after year, with such self-confidence despite impediments to speech, movement, and cognition, are inspirational and deeply moving. What’s on display is not just child theatre, but, also, the power of love and caring. I witness this event every year and each time I am moved to tears.

Nipuna, one such child who has been with the Moratuwa Centre for several years, has become a child artist and improved his interpersonal skills to such an extent that we were able to place him in charge of a little restaurant we opened. Despite the inherent disadvantages of Down syndrome, he has developed to a stage where he considers himself an entrepreneur. He has told me very confidently that he wants to be a chairman of a company.

The progress of our initiatives with disabled children are signposted by such small, hard-won victories, but which loom large in the lives of those so enabled. One of the greatest joys of my life is seeing the beautiful smiles of little children, reflecting their joy at the liberation from congenital impediments.

There are other heart-warming moments, such as on a visit to an orphanage that the Foundation supports, when a blind child grabs Dilhan’s hand, smells his palm, and says with a brilliant smile: “This must be Mr. Dilhan.” To me, a little episode like that justifies all the resources that Dilmah diverts to the Foundation.

My world view

In the unforgiving world of big business and corporate enterprise, amid the relentless and mercenary crusade to become better, bigger, and more profitable, it is very easy to lose sight of the very society which big business feeds on; a society which consists largely of small people, struggling daily to make ends meet. The slightest disruption to the equilibrium of the diverse forces which regulate that society, whether through natural calamity, man-made conflict, or ungovernable economic disorder, immediately affects small people; they are the very first casualties of any upheaval as, their condition makes them the most vulnerable of our society.

A business cannot engage in charity at the expense of profit but, by the same token, a business cannot ignore the inequalities and inequities of the world in which it operates. A business creates genuine and lasting shareholder value when, within the means of its operation, it addresses those issues in the external society.

`Fair Trade’ has become a catchy slogan and the labels which carry that mantra provide comfort to civic-minded customers, who believe that part of what they pay for the product will go back to the producer. In the business reality of my perception, the ‘Fair Trade’ of corporate jargon is little more than marketing strategy, leveraged to perpetuate the existing system of multinational exploitation. In that system, from what the consumer pays at the cashier’s counter, the supermarket, the packer, the distributor, the importer, and the broker each get their piece of the action. The producer and the farmer are left with the crumbs off the table.

The ‘Fair Trade’ slogan has been introduced to marketing-speak by the multinationals because, after decades of exploitation along the chain, they have been compelled to accept the fact their trade has been, essentially, always unfair! In the hands of most traders, ‘Fair Trade’ has become a tool to gain the sympathy and support of the consumer, without genuinely addressing the consequences of unfair trade.

Genuinely fair trade presupposes the empowerment of the producer, but in reality very little of the value goes back to the farmer. Trade becomes genuinely fair only when earnings surplus is deployed in the country of origin, outside the ambit of the business, in caring for and empowering the marginalized and the indigent.

The country which grows the product is the best location for ‘Fair Trade’. That is what Dilmah does. Every cup of Dilmah tea, wherever in the world it is drunk, brings a measure of happiness, comfort, and empowerment, to either an individual or a community in need back in the country where the Dilmah tea is grown.

Opening of 100 bed ward at Point Pedro; Ian, Dilhan, Rajan, Ravi & Barbara

The needs of the disadvantaged in our society are many. Governments, which are shackled by bureaucratic restrictions, can only do so much and because of the size of the problem, that is insufficient. I know that I am also making a small impact within the means enabled by my business. But my view is that if all entrepreneurs make whatever contribution possible, addressing genuine community inadequacies in a sustainable manner, the world will become a much better place for the disadvantaged and the marginalized. I stand by my view, that every business must have a greater purpose which lies beyond profit.

After I launched the Foundation and its work got going in an organized manner, Dilhan kept bringing me more and more projects for sponsorship. I agreed to help with whatever resources I can divert for the cause and, despite my initial misgivings regarding the sustainability of our philanthropy, somehow the means have always appeared. The Bible says that the charity that you do is a gift to God and God repays you in abundance. In this world there is no shortage of wealth, but there is a great inequity in its distribution. Those who possess the means must correct that imbalance and that correction can be achieved only by sharing.

The fruits of the success of Dilmah have been many. It has provided employment to thousands, both here and abroad; it has also enriched many. In the process, it has carried across the world the message of the value of Pure Ceylon Tea and established its image as a desirable product in over 100 countries. It has brought me fame, fortune, recognition, and accolades. However, in my mind, its most valuable outcome is the goodness that I, along with my family, have been able to create with the value created by Dilmah. That will be its most enduring legacy.

‘Business as a Matter of Human Service’ is a responsibility we all share and that which we must all contribute to. What I shared with 18 of my workers six decades ago has, through the efforts of the many people who accompanied me on my long journey, and with the grace of God, increased exponentially and today benefits thousands of less-fortunate individuals and their families. As my friend Leighton Smith of New Zealand has expressed so very simply in his book, ‘Leighton Smith, Beyond the Microphone: “Merrill is an admirable example of how what you put out comes back to you; in his case, in droves… “

We come into this world with nothing, we leave with nothing. The wealth that some of us acquire is owed to the efforts and cooperation of many others around us. Let us, therefore, share that wealth while we are still around, so that the goodwill and contentment created thereby may make our world a happier place for others too.



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Combining local resources,traditional knowledge and science to build a food-secure Sri Lanka

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World Food Day 2026: Innovating today for a better food future

by Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara

What will be on the Sri Lankan dinner table ten years from now? Will our children be able to get nutritious food at a price their families can afford? Will farmers be able to grow enough despite changing weather and rising costs? And how much of the food we produce will actually reach the consumer, instead of being lost or wasted along the way?

These questions can’t wait. A farmer faces unpredictable weather. A family faces rising food costs. Fruit goes unsold after a good harvest. Some children do not get enough nutrition. The future of food is tied to the future of Sri Lanka itself.

World Food Day 2026 is a chance to look beyond the immediate problems and ask whether we can build a food system that feeds our people well, gives farmers better opportunities, protects the environment and makes better use of what we already have. The answer can be yes, but we will have to think differently.

We are not starting from zero. Sri Lanka has diverse crops, fisheries, traditional food knowledge, indigenous varieties, research institutions, universities and a young generation able to create new solutions. What we need is to bring these together and act. Producing more will not secure our food future on its own. It will depend on how intelligently we produce, process, preserve, distribute and consume food.

Making more of what we already have

Innovation does not always mean inventing something new. Often it means finding better uses for the resources we have.

Sri Lanka grows traditional rice varieties, kurakkan, green gram, cowpea, jackfruit, breadfruit, cassava, sweet potato, coconut and palmyrah. All of them have great potential for modern, nutritious, value-added foods. Jackfruit and breadfruit can be made into flour and other convenient products. Traditional rice varieties can go into new foods that suit changing consumer needs. Palmyrah, with its strong cultural heritage, can create new income through better processing, packaging, quality assurance and market development.

The aim is to connect our traditional food knowledge with modern consumer needs and technology, while keeping our food heritage.

Stop wasting the food we produce

Reducing food loss and waste should be a major priority. Seasonal fruits such as mango, banana, papaya and pineapple can be lost in large quantities when production exceeds demand or when storage, transport and processing facilities are inadequate. With suitable technology, these fruits can become dried products, pulps, powders, beverages and other shelf-stable foods.

Agricultural and fisheries by-products are resources too. They could be turned into food ingredients, animal feed, bio-based products and other useful materials, which would move us toward a more circular food economy.

Technology alone is not enough. We need stronger local processing facilities, cold storage, efficient transport, collection centres and market information systems, especially close to where food is produced. Cutting food loss raises the value of what our farmers and fishers already produce.

Nutrition and food safety come first

Food security means more than having enough food. People also need food that is safe and nutritious.

Sri Lanka can develop affordable, nutritious foods from local pulses, grains, vegetables, fruits and fish. Children and other vulnerable groups should get particular attention. Schoolchildren in particular deserve a focus: safe, nutritious, locally sourced products for school feeding programs would support child nutrition, local farmers and domestic food industries at the same time.

Food safety must stay at the centre of food innovation. Good hygiene, quality control, laboratory testing, traceability and appropriate food safety systems are what make new products safe as well as attractive and nutritious.

A food system that can cope with climate change

Climate change is already affecting agricultural production, water availability, crop yields and food prices. We need food systems that can handle changing conditions. That means climate-resilient crops, efficient water use, soil and water conservation, better storage and resource-efficient food processing.

Traditional knowledge matters here. Generations of Sri Lankan farmers have developed practices suited to local climates and ecosystems. Combining that experience with modern science can give us solutions that fit local conditions and are sustainable. Technology alone will not build the future of food. Science, experience and local knowledge together can.

Give young people a bigger role

Sri Lanka’s universities have an important part to play in shaping our food future. Young people should be encouraged to identify real problems in the food system and work on practical solutions in areas such as food waste, sustainable packaging, nutrition, food safety, modernising traditional foods and digital technologies.

A good research project should not always end as a research paper. Where appropriate, research should be supported to move on to products, technologies, enterprises and community solutions. That needs stronger partnerships between universities and industry, along with mentoring, research funding, business support and market connections. If young researchers and entrepreneurs can turn their ideas into viable food innovations, both consumers and producers will benefit.

A pathway designed for Sri Lanka

We do not need to copy food-system models from other countries. We can build a pathway that suits our own resources, culture and needs. It would bring together local resources, traditional knowledge, scientific research, appropriate technology and entrepreneurship, with farmers, fishers, universities, research institutions, food industries, entrepreneurs and policymakers working side by side.

The goal goes beyond selling raw materials. We need to create more value, reduce waste, improve nutrition, generate jobs and strengthen rural livelihoods. This matters especially for small and medium-scale food enterprises, which can drive local economic development when they get the right technical, financial and market support.

The choices we make today

The food future will not create itself. It will be shaped by what we grow, what we research, what we process, what we consume and what we choose not to waste.

So, the question for World Food Day 2026 is this: what can we do today so that every Sri Lankan has safe, nutritious, affordable and sustainable food tomorrow?

The answers are already around us, in our farms, fisheries, food businesses, universities, laboratories and communities. We have the resources, the traditional knowledge, the scientific expertise and talented young people. What we need now is to connect them and act.

A better food future begins with the choices we make today.

Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara

Senior Lecturer, Department of Biosystems Technology, Faculty of Technology, University of Ruhuna

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20th Anniversary of Digampathana blast – the day Sri Lanka Navy cried

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Aftermath of the terror attack

By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne
WV, RWP and Bar, RSP, VSV, USP, NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc
(Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)
Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defence Staff
Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd
Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation
Former High Commissioner to Pakistan

The Digampathana suicide truck attack on 16th October 2006 remains the deadliest single strike in Sri Lanka Navy history, leaving scars that time cannot erase.

It was a seemingly ordinary Monday morning on 16 October 2006, but the calm of that day would soon be shattered in a way none of us could have imagined. As the Commandant of the Naval and Maritime Academy and Flag Officer Commanding Naval Fleet at Trincomalee, I was aware that a number of my cadets were travelling that morning, part of a convoy of fifteen buses carrying naval personnel from Trincomalee, Colombo, and other bases, heading toward Dambulla to rendezvous with another group. The convoy also included trucks and escort vehicles, a routine movement planned and coordinated with the army to ensure the roads were clear. The morning started quietly. Some personnel greeted friends, handed over their weapons, or strolled to a nearby tea shop. It all seemed so ordinary—too ordinary for what would come next.

Sri Lanka Navy sunk LTTE Ships carrying arms, ammunition and warlike materials thousand miles away from Sri Lanka in Indian Ocean in September and October 2007.

By late morning, both convoys had reached the small ground at Digampathana, near the Sigiriya junction, and personnel mingled briefly, unaware that a carefully orchestrated act of terror was waiting. Then, suddenly, an empty half-truck veered directly into the convoy. It exploded with a ferocity I can still recall as if it were yesterday. Nuts, bolts, and high explosives tore through the air. Pandemonium erupted instantly. I later learned that 107 of our naval personnel were killed on the spot and another 153 critically injured. The scene was indescribable—bodies scattered, vehicles mangled, personal effects strewn across the ground. I remember later hearing that the head of the suicide bomber was recovered more than 100 meters away from the blast, a grim testament to the sheer force of the explosion.

I was in my office at the Naval and Maritime Academy when my mobile phone rang. A young midshipman from the 21st intake called, his voice trembling: “Sir, there was a huge explosion at the convoy point! Many are dead … my batch mate Wijesundara is among them.” I immediately jumped into my jeep with my escort Chief Petty Officer and driver and rushed to Digampathana, relying on every ounce of my driving skill to reach the scene. The journey, which usually took little more than an hour, felt endless that day, each passing mile weighed down by dread.

When I arrived, I was confronted with a sight that no training can prepare you for. The injured were being rushed to Dambulla Hospital, where doctors and nurses worked tirelessly, improvising in ways that saved lives despite the overwhelming chaos. I went back to the site after visiting the hospital. The remains of our naval personnel were scattered across the ground, and someone had begun collecting weapons and protective gear. I immediately contacted Surgeon Rear Admiral Nico Jayasekara and received his instructions: collect all body parts in separate bags and transport them to the Trincomalee Naval Hospital mortuary. This gruesome work had to be done with care and dignity, and it filled the icebox in my vehicle. Through DNA testing initiated by Rear Admiral Nico, we were able to identify every naval personnel lost that day, bringing some closure to grieving families.

The Navy Commander at the time, Vice Admiral Wasantha Karannagoda, was devastated. I had worked closely with him and knew how deeply he cared for his men. He ensured that the fallen were honoured with full ceremonial naval funerals at Welisara Naval Base, attended by families and comrades. Sixty-seven funerals were conducted in a single day—a number that still haunts me.

The Digampathana attack remains the largest single loss of naval life in our history. It was a day of sorrow, but also a day that reinforced our resolve. The tragedy galvanized the Navy to target the LTTE Sea Tiger wing with renewed determination and reshaped our maritime operations forever. Every time I think of that day, I remember not just the lives lost, but the courage, professionalism, and dedication of those who survived, those who treated the injured, and those who ensured the fallen were honored properly. May the souls of our naval hero’s rest in peace, their sacrifice guiding us and inspiring generations of naval personnel to come.

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‘Murder at Whitby Abbey’

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Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 24

I was intrigued by the title of a book I found in a book drop at the condominium of a friend, Murder at Whitby Abbey, and I brought it home with me though I will not be able to return it in the near future. It was described on the cover page as ‘a standout in the crowded medieval mystery field’, though I fear I do not know of other books in this field, apart from the Cadfael series, which I have dealt with earlier.

The book, by Cassandra Clark, is set during the reign of Richard II and has as a backdrop his precarious position, which led to his being replaced, and murdered, by his cousin Henry, who reigned as Henry IV. It is a gloomy book, the action taking place in the twelve days of Christmas leading up to the Epiphany. And the gloom is pervasive, even though this is supposed to be a time of festivity, with mummers performing, and many of those in the guest house where the heroine stays going to town to enjoy themselves, with much drinking and much music, which also fills the guesthouse.

The heroine Hildegarde is a nun, sent to try to acquire a relic being sold by Whitby Abbey, though this was also a penance set by the Abbot of the monastery that governed her abbess because she had had sex with a man. Soon after she and her companions reach the Abbey set high on a cliff, she finds that there are other bidders, and soon suspects that the hierarchy, not perhaps the Abbot who seems a weakling, but his rapacious bursar, is determined to make money, and not above creating false relics to sell to several aspirants.

After Hildegarde and her Cistercian companions – Whitby is a Benedictine Foundation – two monks, Gregory and Egbert, and a young priest Mark, reach the abbey, they find that Aelwyn, a monk they had met on their way to the guesthouse had died. This was in the apple store, and they realize, when they find the surplices of novices stuffed into the air vents, that he had been left to suffocate in the overwhelming scent of apples.

Clark

The Cistercians are asked to look into the death, perhaps because they are likely to get no cooperation from the Abbey folk, but perhaps because those in charge are keen to know what happened. And the infirmarer, an old monk, suggests Hildegarde talk to a man called Edred who worked for the bursar, and had been a friend of Aelwyn’s. But Edred too is killed, before he can keep an appointment he had made with Hildegarde, drowned in a pool near the farmhouse of the Abbey.

Meanwhile tensions arise between the fisherfolk and the abbey for the bursar wants to charge them for using the beach that technically belongs to the abbey to dry their fish and their nets. This leads to physical battles, when the guards used by the abbey, under the command it seems of the bursar whose determination to make money is not resisted by the abbot and the prior, try to storm the area where the fishermen live.

Hildegard finds out more about what had happened through two youngsters, one of whom Torold is the son of Aelwyn by a woman who worked as a prostitute for a cartel, and with whom Mark fell in love. The other works on the farm and had seen Edred meet someone near the pool, after which that someone left the place by himself. And the boy had also found in the pool a sort of dagger with the seal of the abbey.

He and his dog, and Torold who follows her, rescue Hildegarde from a man at arms who has waylaid her and tries to rape her earlier. Escaping into the abbey she was nearly been raped then by the bursar, but she managed to escape, in the process setting fire to him and the muniments room, which led, when he was rescued, to the discovery of a box with the money he said had been stolen, blame being cast on both Aelwyn and Edred.

Matters come to a head when the fisherfolk try to storm the abbey, being resisted by the men at arms stationed on the towers. But then Hildegarde realizes that behind the murders was the bursar’s clerk, whom she pursued to the cathedral. There is great drama then as she escapes from him when he tries to kill her, and then from the man at arms who had tried to both rape and kill her, but they both fall from the scaffolding she had climbed, the latter coming from a tower where he had been stationed.

Both of them think they run the rapacity of the abbey, the latter claiming to work for the nobles opposed to Richard, who is presented throughout the book as devoted to his subjects, not to power or money. But though the villains die, the bursar continues, having got over the hysteria the fire had caused and his acknowledgment then of guilt – and though the abbot and the prior seem less vicious, whether they will be able to assert themselves is questionable.

Before the climax, when the others in the guesthouse were leaving, Hildegarde found that two of them were in possession of the relic, for which they seem to have paid well. Hildegarde herself had made a derisory offer, but before she leaves the abbot gives her the relic, perhaps in gratitude for what she and her fellow Cistercians had discovered, the abbey having made as much money as it needed and more from the gullible other buyers.

Mark’s inamorata is saved from the stews because she moves in with Edred’s widow whom the bursar had thrown out of the rooms he occupied when her husband was found dead. Hildegarde had paid for lodgings, in a house run by the man who ran the brothels, but he had a kindly side and was going to finance them to make nets for the fishermen.

So, the Cistercians set off for their home as swiftly as they can to get there on the day of the Epiphany, having stopped en route to pray for King Richard whose birthday it was.

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