Brother Cadfael 16: The Heretic's Apprentice

straight and almost sliding the breviary from his lap. "Is it you, off on your travels again?"
    "No farther than here," said Cadfael, "this time."
    "And how's that unfortunate young brother you had with you in the spring?" And Eadmer called across the vegetable beds to the young man with the hoe: "Leave that, Eddi, and fetch Brother Cadfael here a beaker of ale. Bring pitcher and all!"
    Young Eadmer laid aside the hoe cheerfully, and was off into the house on fine long legs. Cadfael sat down beside the priest on the green bench, and waves of spicy fragrance rose round him.
    "He's back with his pens and brushes, doing good work, and none the worse for his journey, indeed all the better in spirit. His walking improves, slowly but it improves. And how have you been? I hear this is your nephew, the young one, and newly made priest."
    "A month since. He's waiting to see what the bishop has in mind for him. The lad was lucky enough to catch his eye, it may work out well for him."
    It was clear to Cadfael, when young Eadmer came striding out with a wooden tray of beakers and the pitcher, and served them with easy and willing grace, that the new priest was likely to catch any observant eye, for he was tall, well made, and good-looking, and blessedly unselfconscious about his assets. He dropped to the grass at their feet as soon as he had waited on them, and acknowledged his presentation to this Benedictine elder with pleasant deference, but quite without awe. One of those happy people for whose confidence and fearlessness circumstances will always rearrange themselves, and rough roads subside into level pastures. Cadfael wondered if his touch could do as much for other less fortunate souls.
    "Time spent sitting here with you and drinking your ale," admitted Cadfael with mild regret, "is stolen time, I fear, however delightful. I'm on an errand that won't wait, and once it's done I must be off back. And my business is with your nephew here."
    "With me?" said the young man, looking up in surprise.
    "You came visiting Father Boniface, did you not, for Saint Winifred's translation? And stayed with him from past noon on the eve until after Compline on the feast day?"
    "I did. We were deacons together," said young Eadmer, stretching up to refill their beakers without stirring from his grassy seat. "Why? Did I mislay something for him when I disrobed? I'll walk back and see him again before I leave here."
    "And he had to leave you in his place most of that day, from after the morning Mass until past Compline. Did any man come to you, during all that time, asking advice or wanting you to hear his confession?"
    The straight-gazing brown eyes looked up at him thoughtfully, very grave now. Cadfael could read the answer and marvel at it even before Eadmer said: "Yes. One man did."
    It was too early yet to be sure of achievement. Cadfael asked cautiously: "What manner of man? Of what age?"
    "Oh, fifty years old, I should guess, going grey, and balding. A little stooped, and lined in the face, but he was uneasy and troubled when I saw him. Not a craftsman, by his hands, perhaps a small tradesman or someone's house servant."
    More and more hopeful, Cadfael thought, and went on, encouraged: "You did see him clearly?"
    "It was not in the church. He came to the little room over the porch, where Cynric sleeps. Looking for Father Boniface, but he found me instead. So we were face-to-face."
    "You did not know him, though?"
    "No, I know very few in Shrewsbury. I never was there before."
    No need to ask if he had been at chapter, or at the session that followed, to know Aldwin again from that encounter. Cadfael knew he had not. He had too sure a sense of the limitations of his fledgling rights to overstep them.
    "And you confessed this man? And gave him penance and absolution?"
    "I did. And helped him through the penance. You will understand," said young Eadmer firmly, "that I can tell you nothing about his confession."
    "I would not ask you. If this was the man I believe it was, what matters is that you did absolve him, that his soul's peace was made. For, you see," said Cadfael, considerately mirroring the young man's severe gravity, "if I am right, the man is now dead. And since his parish priest had reason to wonder about the state of his strayed sheep, he is enquiring as to his spiritual standing before he will bury him with all the rites of the Church. It's why every priest in the town has been questioned, and I come at last to