Brother Cadfael 03: Monk's Hood

Prior Robert's nose in the moment of its most superb elevation.
    As for the prior himself, he had not the figure or the bearing to succumb to deflation like his clerk, nor the kind of complexion that could be said to blench. His reaction was variously reported afterwards. Brother Denis the hospitaller claimed that Robert had rocked back on his heels so alarmingly that it was a wonder he did not fall flat on his back. The porter alleged that he blinked violently, and remained glassy-eyed for minutes afterwards. The novices, after comparing notes, agreed that if looks could have killed, they would have had a sudden death in their midst, and the victim would not have been the new abbot, but the old, who by so ingenuously acknowledging his future subordination to Robert as prior had led him to believe in his expected promotion to the abbacy, only to shatter the illusion next moment. Brother Mark, very fairly, said that only a momentary marble stillness, and the subsequent violent agitation of the prior's Adam's-apple as he swallowed gall, had betrayed his emotions. Certainly he had been forced to a heroic effort at recovery, for Heribert had proceeded benignly:
    "And to you, Father Abbot, I make known Brother Robert Pennant, who has been an exemplary support to me as prior, and I am sure will serve you with the same selfless devotion."
    "It was beautiful!" said Brother Mark later, in the garden workshop where he had submitted somewhat self-consciously to having his stewardship reviewed, and been relieved and happy at being commended. "But I feel ashamed now. It was wicked of me to feel such pleasure in someone else's downfall."
    "Oh, come, now!" said Cadfael absently, busy unpacking his scrip and replacing the jars and bottles he had brought back with him. "Don't reach for the halo too soon. You have plenty of time to enjoy yourself, even a little maliciously sometimes, before you settle down to being a saint. It was beautiful, and almost every soul there rejoiced in it. Let's have no hypocrisy."
    Brother Mark let go of his scruples, and had the grace to grin. "But all the same, when Father Heribert could meet him with no malice at all, and such affection ..."
    "Brother Heribert! And you do yourself less than justice," said Cadfael fondly. "You're still endearingly green, it seems. Did you think all those well-chosen words were hit upon by accident? 'A simple brother under you ...' He could as well have said among you, since he was speaking to us all a moment before. And 'with the same selfless devotion,' indeed! Yes, the very same! And by the look of our new abbot, Robert will be waiting a long, long time before there's another vacancy there."
    Brother Mark dangled his legs from the bench by the wall, and gaped in startled consternation. "Do you mean he did it all on purpose?"
    "He could have sent one of the grooms a day ahead, couldn't he, if he'd wished to give warning? He could at least have sent one on from St Giles to break the news gently. And privately! A long-suffering soul, but he took a small revenge today." He was touched by Brother Mark's stricken face. "Don't look so shocked! You'll never get to be a saint if you deny the bit of the devil in you. And think of the benefit he's conferred on Prior Robert's soul!"
    "In showing the vanity of ambition?" hazarded Mark doubtfully.
    "In teaching him not to count his chickens. There, now be off to the warming-room, and get me all the gossip, and I'll join you in a little while, after I've had a word or two with Hugh Beringar."
    "Well, it's over, and as cleanly as we could have hoped," said Beringar, comfortable beside the brazier with a beaker of mulled wine from Cadfael's store in his hand. "Documented and done with, and the cost might well have been higher. A very fine woman, by the way, your Richildis, it was a pleasure to hand her boy back to her. I've no doubt he'll be in here after you as soon as he hears you're back, as he soon will, for I'll call at the house on my way into the town."
    There had been few direct questions asked, and few but oblique answers. Their conversation was often as devious as their relationship was easy and secure, but they understood each other.
    "I hear you lost a horse while you were up on the borders," said Beringar.
    "Mea culpa!" owned Cadfael. "I left the stable unlocked."
    "About the same time as the Llansilin court lost a man," observed Hugh.
    "Well, you're surely not blaming me for that. I found him for them, and then they