Brother Cadfael 11: An Excellent Mystery

little of him between his occasional visitations and inspections, and he's a good soul and listens to counsel. And I shall be in attendance every now and again, should you ever need me. Come, and I'll show you where everything is.'
    Brother Simon was a comfortable, round man in his forties. He came out to meet them at the porch, with a gangling boy of about twelve by the hand. The child's eyes were white with the caul of blindness, but otherwise he was whole and comely, by no means the saddest sight to be found here, where the infected and diseased might find at once a refuge and a prison for their contagion, since they were not permitted to carry it into the streets of the town, among the uncorrupted. There were cripples sunning themselves in the little orchard behind the hospice, old pox-riddled men, and faded women in the barn plaiting bands for the straw stooks as they were stacked. Those who could work a little were glad to do so for their keep, those who could not were passive in the sun, unless they had skin rashes which the heat only aggravated. These kept under the shade of the fruit-trees, or those most fevered in the chill of the chapel.
    'As at present,' said Brother Simon, 'we have eighteen, which is not so ill, for so hot a season. Three are able-bodied, and mending of their sickness, which was not contagious, and they'll be on their way within days now. But there'll be others, young man, there'll always be others. They come and go. Some by the roads, some out of this world's bane. None the worse, I hope, for passing through that door in this place.'
    He had a slightly preaching style which caused Cadfael to smile inwardly, remembering Mark's lovely simplicity, but he was a good man, hard-working, compassionate, and very deft with those big hands of his. Oswin would drink in his solemn homilies with reverence and wonder, and go about his work refreshed and unquestioning.
    'I'll see the lad round myself, if you'll let me,' said Cadfael, hitching forward the laden scrip at his girdle. 'I've brought you all the medicaments you asked for, and some I thought might be needed, besides. We'll find you when we're done.'
    'And the news of Brother Mark?' asked Simon.
    'Mark is already deacon. I have but to save my most fearful confession a few more years, then, if need be, I'll depart in peace.'
    'According to Mark's word?' wondered Simon, revealing unsuspected depths, and smiling to gloss them over. It was not often he spoke at such a venture.
    'Well,' said Cadfael very thoughtfully, 'I've always found Mark's word good enough for me. You may well be right.' And he turned to Oswin, who had followed this exchange with a face dutifully attentive and bewilderedly smiling, earnest to understand what evaded him like thistledown. 'Come on, lad, let's unload these and be rid of the weight first, and then I'll show you all that goes on here at Saint Giles.'
    They passed through the hall, which was for eating and for sleeping, except for those too sick to be left among their healthier fellows. There was a large locked cupboard, to which Cadfael had his own key, and its shelves within were full of jars, flasks, bottles, wooden boxes for tablets, ointments, syrups, lotions, all the products of Cadfael's workshop. They unloaded their scrips and filled the gaps along the shelves. Oswin enlarged with the importance of this mystery into which he had been initiated, and which he was now to practise in earnest.
    There was a small kitchen garden behind the hospice, and an orchard, and barns for storage. Cadfael conducted his charge round the entire enclave, and by the end of the circuit they had three of the inmates in close and curious attendance, the old man who tended the cabbages and showed off his produce with pride, a lame youth herpling along nimbly enough on two crutches, and the blind child, who had forsaken Brother Simon to attach himself to Cadfael's girdle, knowing the familiar voice.
    'This is Warin,' said Cadfael, taking the boy by the hand as they made their way back to Brother Simon's little desk in the porch. 'He sings well in chapel, and knows the office by heart. But you'll soon know them all by name.'
    Brother Simon rose from his accounts at sight of them returning. 'He's shown you everything? It's no great household, ours, but it does a great work. You'll soon get used to us.'
    Oswin beamed and blushed, and said that he would do his best. It was likely that he was waiting impatiently for his mentor to depart,