Brother Cadfael 16: The Heretic's Apprentice

was enough to cause Jerome's little nose to sniff the air like a meagre hound on a scent. The canon himself had not chosen to grace William's obsequies with his presence, but he would probably receive a full account from Prior Robert, who also knew how to value the opportunity to cultivate a close confidant and agent of the archbishop.
    Howbeit, this minor matter, which had briefly threatened to blaze up into a dangerous heat, must surely be over now. William had his wish, Elave had done his loyal duty in securing it for him, and Radulfus had maintained the petitioner's right. And once tomorrow's festivities were over, Gerbert would soon be on his way, and without his exalted rigidity, almost certainly sincere, and probably excited by recent embassages to France and Rome, there would be an end here in Shrewsbury of these arid measurings and probings of every word a man spoke.
    Cadfael watched the household of William of Lythwood muster its funeral guests and sally forth from the gatehouse towards the town, and went off to dinner in the refectory with the easy mind of a man who believes himself to have seen an important matter satisfactorily settled.
    William's wake was well supplied with ale, wine, and mead, and went the way of most wakes, from dignified solemnity and pious remembrance to sentimental and increasingly elabourated reminiscence, while discreet voices grew louder and anecdotes borrowed as much from imagination as from memory. And since Elave had been his companion for seven years while he had been out of sight and often out of mind of these old neighbours of his, the young man found himself being plied with the best ale in the house, in exchange for the stories he had to tell of the long journey and the wonders seen along the way, and of William's dignified farewell to the world.
    If he had not drunk considerably more than he was accustomed to, he might not have given direct and open answers to oblique and insinuating questions. On the other hand, in view of his habitual and belligerent honesty, and the fact that he had no reason to suppose he had need of caution in this company, it is at least equally probable that he would.
    It did not begin until all the visitors were leaving, or already gone, and Jevan was out in the street taking slow and pleasurable leave of the last of them, and being a comfortable, neighbourly time about it. Margaret was in the kitchen with Fortunata, clearing away the remains of the feast and supervising the washing of the pots that had provided it. Elave was left sitting at the table in the hall with Conan and Aldwin, and when most of the work in the kitchen was done, Fortunata came in quietly and sat down with them.
    They were talking of the next day's festival. It was only seemly that a funeral should be fittingly observed and tidied away before the day of Saint Winifred's translation, so that everything on the morrow could be festive and auspicious, like the unclouded weather they hoped for. From the efficacy of the relics of saints and the validity of their miracles it was no long way to the matter of William. It was, after all, William's day, and fitting that they should be remembering him well into the dusk.
    "According to one of the brothers down there," said Aldwin earnestly, "the little anxious grey fellow that runs so busy about the prior, it was a question whether the old man would be let in at all. Somebody there was for digging up that old scuffle he had with the missioner, to deny him a place."
    "It's a grave matter to disagree with the Church," agreed Conan, shaking his head. "It's not for us to know better than the priests, not where faith's concerned. Listen and say Amen, that's my advice. Did ever William talk to you about such things, Elave? You travelled a long way and a good many years with him. Did he try to take you along with him down that road, too?"
    "He never made any secret of what he thought," said Elave. "He'd argue his point, and with good sense, too, even to priests, but there was none of them found any great fault with him for thinking about such things. What are wits for unless a man uses them?"
    "That's presumption," said Aldwin, "in simple folk like us, who haven't the learning or the calling of the churchmen. As the king and the sheriff have power over us in their field, so has the priest in his. It's not for us to meddle with matters beyond us. Conan's right, listen and say Amen!"
    "How can you say Amen to damning a newborn child to hell