Brother Cadfael 08: The Devil's Novice

For Roswitha or for Nigel? Or for his own fate?
    'Child,' said Cadfael, half-exasperated and half-indulgent, 'you are nineteen years old, and have not even begun to live, and you think in the first misery of your life that God has abandoned you. Despair is deadly sin, but worse it is mortal folly. The number of your friends is legion, and God is looking your way as attentively as ever he did. And all you have to do to deserve is to wait in patience, and keep up your heart.' Even through his deliberate withdrawal and angrily suppressed tears Meriet was listening, so much was clear by his tension and stillness.
    'And if you care to know,' said Cadfael, almost against his will, and sounding still more exasperated in consequence, 'yes, I am, by God's grace, a father. I have a son. And you are the only one but myself who knows it.' And with that he pinched out the wick of the lamp, and in the darkness went to thump on the door to be let out.
    It was a question, when Cadfael visited next morning, which of them was the more aloof and wary with the other, each of them having given away rather more than he had intended. Plainly there was to be no more of that. Meriet had put on an austere and composed face, not admitting to any weakness, and Cadfael was gruff and practical, and after a look at the little that was still visible of the damage to his difficult patient, pronounced him in no more need of doctoring, but very well able to concentrate on his reading, and make the most of his penitential time for the good of his soul.
    'Does that mean,' asked Meriet directly, 'that you are washing your hands of me?' 'It means I have no more excuse for demanding entry here, when you are supposed to be reflecting on your sins in solitude.' Meriet scowled briefly at the stones of the wall, and then said stiffly: 'It is not that you fear I'll take some liberty because of what you were so good as to confide to me? I shall never say a word, unless to you and at your instance.'
    'No such thought ever entered my mind,' Cadfael assured him, startled and touched. 'Do you think I would have said it to a blabbermouth who would not know a confidence when one was offered him? No, it's simply that I have no warranty to go in and out here without good reason, and I must abide by the rules as you must.' The fragile ice had already melted. 'A pity, though,' said Meriet, unbending with a sudden smile which Cadfael recalled afterwards as both startlingly sweet and extraordinarily sad. 'I reflect on my sins much better when you are here scolding. In solitude I still find myself thinking how much I would like to make Brother Jerome eat his own sandals.'
    'We'll consider that a confession in itself,' said Cadfael, 'and one that had better not be made to any other ears. And your penance will be to make do without me until your ten days of mortification are up. I doubt you're incorrigible and past praying for, but we can but try.'
    He was at the door when Meriet asked anxiously: 'Brother Cadfael ... ?' And when he turned at once: 'Do you know what they mean to do with me afterwards?'
    'Not to discard you, at all events,' said Cadfael, and saw no reason why he should not tell him what was planned for him. It seemed that nothing was changed. The news that he was in no danger of banishment from his chosen field calmed, reassured, placated Meriet; it was all that he wanted to hear. But it did not make him happy.
    Cadfael went away discouraged, and was cantankerous with everyone who came in his path for the rest of the day.
    Chapter Seven.
    Hugh came south from the peat-hags empty-handed to his house in Shrewsbury, and sent an invitation to Cadfael to join him at supper on the evening of his return. To such occasional visits Cadfael had the most unexceptionable claim, since Giles Beringar, now some ten months old, was his godson, and a good godfather must keep a close eye on the welfare and progress of his charge. Of young Gile's physical well being and inexhaustible energy there could be little question, but Hugh did sometimes express doubts about his moral inclinations, and like most fathers, detailed his son's ingenious villainies with respect and pride.
    Aline, having fed and wined her menfolk, and observed with a practised eye the first droop of her son's eyelids, swept him off out of the room to be put to bed by Constance, who was his devoted slave, as she had been loyal friend and servant to his mother from childhood. Hugh and Cadfael were left alone for a