Brother Cadfael 11: An Excellent Mystery

Marisco. My father and my grandfather thought best to turn fully Norman. Now it's all one, we leave here all by the same gate.' He lay still and silent for a while, visibly gathering his thoughts and such strength as he had. 'There is one other longing I have, before I die. I should like to see again the manor of Salton, where I was born. I should like to take Fidelis there, just once to be with him outside the monastery walls, in the place that saw my beginning. I ought to have asked permission earlier, but there is still time. It's only a few miles up-river from us. Will you speak for me to the lord abbot, and ask this one kindness?'
    Cadfael eyed him in doubt and consternation. 'You cannot ride, that's certain. Whatever means we might take to get you there, it would be asking too much of such strength as you have left.'
    'No effort on my part can now alter by more than hours what is left of my life, but it would be a happiness to exchange some part of my time remaining for a glimpse of the place where I was a child. Ask it for me, Cadfael.'
    'There is the river,' said Cadfael dubiously, 'but such twists and turns, it adds double to the journey. And such low water, you'd need a boatman who knows every shoal and current.'
    'You must know of such a one. I remember how we used to swim and fish off our own shore. Shrewsbury lads were watermen from birth, I could swim before I could walk. There must be many such adepts along this riverside.'
    And so there were, and Cadfael knew the best of them, whose knowledge of the Severn spanned every islet, every bend and shallow, and who at any season could judge accurately where anything cast into the water would again be cast ashore. Madog of the Dead Boat had earned his title through the many sad services he had rendered in his time to distracted families who had lost sons or brothers into the flood after the melting of the Welsh snows far up-river, or too venturesome infants left unguarded for a moment while their mothers spread the washing on the bushes of the shore, or fishermen fathers putting out in their coracles with too much ale already under their belts. He did not resent his title, though his preferred trade was fishing and ferrying. What he did for the dead someone had to do, in grace, and since he could do it better than any other, why should he not take pride in it? Cadfael had known him many years, an elderly Welshman like himself, and had several times had occasion to seek his help, which was never grudged.
    'Even in this low water,' said Cadfael thoughtfully, 'Madog could get a coracle up the brook from the river, but a coracle wouldn't carry you and Fidelis besides. But his light skiff draws very little water, I daresay he could bring it into the mill pond, there's still depth enough that far up the brook, with the mill race fed back into it. We could carry you out by the wicket to the mill, and see you bestowed…'
    'That far I could walk,' said Humilis resolutely.
    'You'd be wise to save your energy for Salton. Who knows?' marvelled Cadfael, noting the slight flush of blood that warmed the thin grey face at the very prospect of returning to the first remembered home of his childhood - perhaps to end where he began. 'Who knows, it may yet do you a world of good!'
    'And you will ask the lord abbot?'
    'I will,' said Cadfael. 'When Fidelis returns, I'll go to him.'
    'Tell him there may be need for haste,' said Humilis, and smiled.
    Abbot Radulfus listened with his usual shrewd gravity, and considered for a while in silence before making any comment. Outside the dim, wood-panelled parlour in his lodging the hot sun climbed, still veiled with a thin haze that turned it copper-colour, and made it seem to burn even more fiercely. The roses budded, flowered and fell all in one day.
    'Is he strong enough to bear it?' asked the abbot at length. 'And is it not too great a load to lay upon Brother Fidelis, to bear responsibility for him all that time.'
    'It's the passing of his strength that makes him ask so urgently,' said Cadfael. 'If his wish is to be granted at all, it must be now, quickly. And he says rightly, it can make very little difference to the tale of his remaining days, whether they end tomorrow or after another week. But to his peace of mind this visit might make all the difference. As for Brother Fidelis, he has never yet shrunk from any burden laid upon him for love, and will not now. And if Madog takes them, they'll be in the best of hands. No one knows