Brother Cadfael 16: The Heretic's Apprentice

century's heretic," the abbot replied dryly, "and one century's heretic the next century's saint. It is as well to think long and calmly before affixing either name to any man."
    "That is to neglect a duty we cannot evade," said Gerbert, again bristling. "The peril which is here and now must be dealt with here and now, or the battle is lost, for the seed will have fallen and rooted."
    "Then at least we may know the wheat from the tares. And bear in mind," said Radulfus gravely, "that where error is sincere and bred out of misguided goodness, the blemish may be healed by reason and persuasion."
    "Or failing that," said Gerbert with inflexible resolution, "by lopping off the diseased member."
    Chapter Six
    Elave passed through the gates unchallenged, and turned towards the town. Evidently the porter had not yet got word of the alarm raised against this one ordinary mortal among the abbey guests, or else he had already received the abbot's fiat that the accused's parole was given and accepted, and he was free to go and come as he pleased, provided he did not collect his belongings and take to his heels altogether, for no attempt was made to bar his way. The brother on the gate even gave him a cheerful good-day as he passed.
    Out in the Foregate he paused to look both ways along the highroad, but all the witnesses against him had vanished from sight. He set off in haste towards the bridge and the town, certain that Fortunata in her distress would make straight for home. She had left the chapter house before he had given his word he had no intention of departing unvindicated. She might well think him already a prisoner, might even blame herself for his plight. He had seen how reluctantly she had borne true witness against him, and at this moment it grieved him more that she should grieve than that his own liberty and life should be in danger. In that danger he found it hard to believe; therefore it was easy to bear. Her evident agitation he believed in utterly, and it caused him deep and compelling pain. He had to speak to her, to reassure her she had done him no wrong in the world, that this commotion would pass, that the abbot was a reasonable man, and the other one, the one who wanted blood, would soon be gone and leave the judgment to saner judges. And more beyond that, that he had understood how valiantly she had striven to defend him, that he was grateful for it, perhaps even hoping in his heart to find in it a deeper meaning than sympathy, and more intimate than concern for justice. Though he must guard his tongue from saying too much, as long as even the shadow of reprobation hung over him.
    He had reached the end of the enclave wall, where the ground on his left opened out over the silvery oval of the mill pool, and on the right of the road the houses of the Foregate gave way to a grove of trees that stretched as far as the approaches to the bridge over the Severn. And there she was before him, unmistakable in her bearing and gait, hastening along the dusty highway with an impetuosity that suggested angry resolution rather than consternation and dismay. He broke into a run, and overtook her in the shadow of the trees. At the sound of his racing feet she had swung round to face him, and at sight of him, without a word said beyond his breathless "Mistress...!" she caught him hastily by the hand and drew him well aside into the grove, out of sight from the road.
    "What is this? Have they freed you? Is it over?" She raised to him a face glowing and intent with unmistakable joy, but still holding it in check for fear of a fall as sudden as her elation.
    "No, not yet. No, there'll be more debate yet before I'm quit of all this. But I had to speak to you, to thank you for what you did for me -"
    "Thank me!" she said in a soft, incredulous cry. "For digging the pit a little deeper under you? I burn with shame that I had not even the courage to lie!"
    "No, no, you mustn't think so! You did me no wrong at all, you did everything you could to help me. Why should you be forced to lie? In any case, you could not do it, it is not in you. Nor will I lie," said Elave fiercely, "nor give back from what I believe. What I came to say is that you must not fret for me, nor ever for a moment think that I have anything but gratitude and reverence for you. You stood my friend the only way I would have you stand my friend."
    He had not even realized that he was holding both her hands, clasped close against his breast, so that they stood