I rarely dare to fault Peters, the master, but I found the pacing odd as we approached the climactic conflagration. Things slowed down to a few pages of detailed description, as the heroine studies her new surroundings--oblivious to the fact that she is now locked in.
But all Brother Cadfael mysteries are excellent: look for the Least-Likely Suspect to be your murderer. And as a layperson who likes her men of the cloth to be near saints, I am mollified to see that Cadfael is much less worldly than in the first 3 novels; he drinks and recalls past amours less, yet he still glories in an occasional ride on a fine horse, when a legitimate opportunity presents. And he savors the propspect of godparenthood, since at 59 he is the right age if he had a son. But beware whenever Cadfael or Hugh feels that Shakespearian pricking of the thumbs! Death is just as sudden and final in the 12th century, where murder must be solved without use of sophisticated technology and communication--just a bi-annual challenge for our supersleuth, who solves them all by using his wits, and his knowledge of herbs and human nature.