Brother Cadfael 16: The Heretic's Apprentice

fellow of yours has in mind, what is it?"
    "You should ask him that," said Jevan with a slow and baffled shake of his head, but with a certain wondering note in his voice that made Hugh prick up his ears.
    "So I will. But now I am asking you."
    "Well," said Jevan cautiously, "you must bear in mind I may be wrong. But there is a matter which Conan may be holding against Elave. Quite without provocation, and no doubt Elave would be astonished if he knew of it. You have not noticed our Fortunata? She is grown into a very fresh and winning young woman, since Elave went off with my uncle on this pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and before that, you must remember, they were here familiar in the house some years, and liked each other well enough, he condescending to a child, and she childishly fond of a pleasant young man, even if he did no better than humour her liking. A very different matter he found her when he came back. And here's Conan..."
    "Who has known her as long, and seen her grow," said Hugh sceptically, "and could have offered for her long ago if he was so minded, with no Elave to stand in his way. And did he?"
    "He did not," Jevan granted, hollowly smiling. "But times have changed. In spite of the name my uncle gave to her, Fortunata until now has had nothing of her own, to make her a good match. Young Elave has brought back from the east not only himself, but the legacy my Uncle William, bless his kindly soul, thought to send to his foster child when he knew he might not see her again. Oh, no, Conan has no knowledge, as yet, of what may be in the box Elave brought for her. It will not be opened until my brother gets home from his wool-buying. But Conan knows it exists, it is here, it came from a generous man, virtually on his deathbed, when such a man would open his heart. From the looks I've seen Conan giving Fortunata these last few days, he's beginning to look on her as earmarked for him, dowry and all, and on Elave as a threat to be removed."
    "By death, if need be?" hazarded Hugh doubtfully. It seemed too bold and bitter an extreme for so ordinary a man to contemplate. "It was not he who brought the charge."
    "I have wondered if they did not hatch that rotten egg between them. It suited them both to get rid of the youngster if they could, since it turns out Aldwin feared he might be elbowed out of office. It was like him to think the worst of my brother and me, as of all others. Oh, I doubt if either of them thought of anything so final as a death sentence. It would do if the lad was whisked off into the bishop's prison, or even so harried and ill-used here that he'd make off for healthier places when he was released. And doubtless Conan misread women," said the cynic who had never married, "and thought even the threat against Elave would put the girl off him. He should have known better. It has put her on! She'll fight for him tooth and nail now. The priests have not heard the last of our Fortunata."
    "So that's the way of it," said Hugh, and whistled softly. "You make a case for more than you know. If that's how it is with him, he might well be alarmed when Aldwin changed his tune, and wanted to get the boy out of the mire he'd thrust him into. It could well be enough to make him go after Aldwin, hang upon him, pour words into his ear, do everything possible to dissuade him. Would it be enough to make him go still further?"
    Jevan stood gazing at him enquiringly, and laid down, slowly and almost absently, the edge of vellum he had taken up to fold across to its matching edge. "Further? How further? What have you in mind? It would seem he had won his argument, and went away satisfied. Nothing further was needed."
    "Ah, but suppose he was not quite satisfied. Suppose he could not rely on it that he'd won? Knowing Aldwin for the whiffle-minded poor soul he was, with a bad conscience, his own fear removed and his grudge with it, and his resolution blown this way and that as the wind changed, suppose Conan stayed lurking somewhere to see what he would do. And saw him get up and walk out of the tavern without a word, and off down the Wyle to the town gate and the bridge. All his words gone to waste, and more than words needed, quickly, before the damage was done. Did it matter to him all that much? Aldwin would think no ill even when he was pursued a second time - by a man he'd known for years. He might even let himself be drawn aside into some quiet place to argue the cause all over again. And Aldwin," said Hugh,