Brother Cadfael 05: Leper of Saint Giles

noticeable evil smells, the wines in their great flasks bubbled gently to themselves as usual.
    Brother Oswin rendered account self-consciously, gleaning what credit he could before the blow fell. "Brother Infirmarer has fetched the electuaries and the powders. And I have taken Brother Prior the stomachic you made for him. The troches you left drying I think should be ready now, and the dried herbs for the decoction you spoke of, I have ground to fine powder ready for use tomorrow."
    But ... Now he was coming to the bad news. That look of astonished reproach, that a thing well-meant and confidently undertaken should so betray him.
    "But such a strange thing ... I don't understand how it could happen, the pot must surely have been cracked, though I could see no break in it. The linctus you left boiling ... I did watch it most carefully, I'm sure I took it from the brazier when it was just the right thickness, and I stirred it as you told me. You know you said it was wanted urgently for old Brother Francis, his chest being so bad ... I thought I would cool it quickly, to be able to bottle it for you, so I took the pot from the fire and set it in a bowl of cold water ..."
    "And the pot burst," said Cadfael resignedly.
    "Fell apart," owned Oswin, bewildered and grieved, "in two great pieces, and shed forth all that honey and the herbs into the water. An extraordinary thing! Did you know the pot was cracked?"
    "Son, the pot was sound as a bell, and one of my best, but nor it nor any other here is meant to be taken straight from the fire and plumped into cold water. The clay does not like so sharp a change, it shrinks and shatters. And while we are on that, take heed that glass bottles have the same objection," added Cadfael hastily. "If warm things are to be put in them, the bottles must be warmed first. Never thrust any matter straight from heat to cold or cold to heat."
    "I have cleared away all," said Oswin apologetically, "and thrown out the pot, too. But all the same, I am sure there must have been a crack somewhere in it ... But I am sorry the linctus is wasted, and I will come back after supper and make a fresh brew in its place."
    God forbid! thought Cadfael, but managed to refrain from saying it aloud. "No, son!" he said firmly. "Your duty is to attend Collations and keep the true round of your order. I will see to the linctus myself." His supply of pots would have to be defended from Brother Oswin's excellent intentions henceforth. "Now be off and get ready for Vespers."
    Thus Brother Oswin's latest achievement in the herbarium was the reason for Cadfael returning to his workshop that evening after supper, and for his involvement in all that happened afterwards.
    Chapter Two
    Sir Godfrid Picard and his lady came to Vespers in state, with Iveta de Massard diminutive between them like a lamb led to sacrifice. A hard-faced elderly maid carried Lady Picard's prayer book, and a valet attended Sir Godfrid. The girl had put off her display finery, and came simply dressed in dark colours, with a veil over her great sheaf of gold hair. She stood and knelt throughout with downcast eyes and pale, mute face. Cadfael watched her with curiosity and sympathy from his place among the brethren, and wondered the more, the more he gazed. What kin could she be to the crusader whose name had been a legend among his contemporaries, however this present generation might have forgotten him? Nearly forty years dead, and a man is dead indeed.
    At the end of Vespers, as the brothers filed out to supper, Iveta rose, and went swiftly forward, hands clasped, into the Lady Chapel, and there sank to her knees before the altar. It seemed to Cadfael that Agnes Picard would have followed her, but that her husband laid a restraining hand on her arm, for Prior Robert Pennant, ever attentive to Norman nobility of his own kind, was bearing down upon them in all his lofty, silver-haired grandeur, with some civil invitation which could not well be refused. The lady cast one sharp glance at the devout figure of her niece, who seemed to be totally absorbed in fervent prayer, and surrendered gracefully, pacing beside the prior on her husband's arm.
    Cadfael made a very hasty supper among his fellows, still disturbed by the events of the day, for which, unhappily, all his herbs had no remedy. As well that he had a specific task to occupy him during the evening, thanks to the inexhaustible optimism of Brother Oswin.
    Iveta remained on her knees until all