Brother Cadfael 15: The Confession of Brother Haluin

loving. But Haluin's suit was not at all to the mother's mind, and she took pains to separate them. Haluin was dismissed from her service, and forbidden all ado with the girl, who was persuaded into a marriage more pleasing to her family. No doubt you know her history since then. Haluin entered our house, admittedly for a wrong reason. It is not good to turn to the spiritual life out of despair, but many have done it, as you and I know, and lived to become faithful and honourable ornaments to their houses. So has Haluin. So, I make no doubt, has Bertrade de Clary."
    He caught the glint of her eyes at hearing that name. There was not much she did not know about her flock, but if she knew more than he had said of this woman she showed no sign and made no comment, accepting all as he had told it.
    "It seems to me," she said, "that the story you tell me bids fair to be repeated in another generation. The circumstances are not quite the same, but the end well could be. It's as well we should consider in time how to deal with it."
    "I have that in mind," said Cadfael. "And how have you dealt with it thus far? Since the girl came running to you by night? For the whole household of Vivers is out by now for the second day, scouring the roads for her."
    "I think not," said the abbess. "For I sent yesterday to let her brother know that she is here and safe, and prays him to be left in peace here for a while for thought and prayer. I think he will respect her wish, in the circumstances."
    "Circumstances which she has told you," said Cadfael with conviction, "in full. So far, that is, as she knows them."
    "She has."
    "Then you know of a woman's death, and of the marriage arranged for Helisende. And the reason for that marriage, you know that, too?"
    "I know she is too close kin to the young man she would liefer have. Yes, she has told me. More, I fancy, than she tells her confessor. You need not fear for Helisende. As long as she remains here she is safe from all harassment, and has the company and comfort of her mother."
    "She could not be in a better place," said Cadfael fervently. "Then, as to these two who most concern us now - I must tell you that Haluin was told that Bertrade was dead, and has believed her so all these years, and moreover, taken her death to himself as blame. This morning by God's grace he has seen her before him alive and well. They have exchanged no words but their names. But I think it would be well that they should, if you so grant. They will serve better in their separate vocations if they have peace of mind. Also they have a right to know, each one, that the other is whole, blessed and content."
    "And you think," said the abbess with deliberation, "that they will be blessed and content? After as before?"
    "More and better than before," he said with certainty. "I can speak for the man, if you know as much of the woman. And if they part thus without a word, they will be tormented to the end of their days."
    "I would as soon not be answerable to God for that," said the abbess with a brief, bleak smile. "Well, they shall have their hour and make their peace. It can do no harm, and may do much good. Do you purpose to remain here some days longer?"
    "This one day at least," said Cadfael. "For I have one more prayer to make to you. Brother Haluin I leave to you. But there is a thing I must do, before we set off for home. Not here! Will you let me borrow a horse from your stable?"
    She sat studying him for a long moment, and it seemed that she was guardedly satisfied with what she saw, for at length she said, "On one condition."
    "And that is?"
    "That when time serves, and all harm is spent, you will tell me the other half of the story."
    Brother Cadfael led out his borrowed horse into the stableyard, and mounted without haste. The bishop had seen fit to provide stabling adequate for his own visitations, and two stout cobs for remounts should any of his envoys travel this way and make use of the abbey's hospitality. Having been given a free hand, Cadfael had naturally chosen the more likely-looking of the two, and the younger, a lively, solid bay. It was no very long ride he had in mind, but he might as well get out of it what pleasure he could along the way. There would be little pleasure at the end of it.
    The sun was already high when he rode out at the gate, a pale sun growing brighter and clearer as the air of the day warmed into palpable spring. The fatal snow at Vivers would be the last snow of the