Brother Cadfael 16: The Heretic's Apprentice

you."
    "Dead?" echoed Eadmer, dismayed. "He was in sound health for a man of his years. How is that possible? And he was happier when he left me, he would not... No! So how comes it he is dead so soon?"
    "You will surely have heard by now," said Cadfael, "that the morning after the feast day a man was taken out of the river? Not drowned, but stabbed. The sheriff is hunting for his murderer."
    "And this is the man?" asked the young priest, aghast.
    "This is the man who so sorely needs a guarantor. Whether he is the man you confessed I cannot yet be certain."
    "I never knew his name," said the boy, hesitant.
    "You would know his face," said his uncle, and spared to comment or prompt him further. There was no need. Young Eadmer set a hand to the ground and bounded to his feet, brushing down the skirt of his cassock briskly. "I will come back with you," he said, "and hope with all my heart that I can speak for your murdered man."
    There were four of them about the trestle table on which Aldwin's body had been laid out decently for burial: Girard, Father Elias, Cadfael, and young Eadmer. In this narrow store shed in the yard, swept out and sweetened with green branches, there was no room for more. And these witnesses were enough.
    There had been very little said on the walk back to Shrewsbury. Eadmer, bent on preserving the sacredness of what had passed between them, had banished even the mention of their meeting until he should know that this dead man was indeed his penitent. Possibly his first penitent, and approached with awe, humility, and reverence in consequence.
    They had gone first to Father Elias, to ask him to accompany them to Girard's house, for if this promise came to fruit it would be both ease for his mind and due license to hasten the arrangements for burial. The little priest came with them eagerly. He stood at the head of the bier, the place granted to him as of right, and his aging hands, thin and curled like a small bird's claws, trembled for a moment as he turned back the covering from the dead man's face. At the foot Eadmer stood, the fledgling priest fronting the old man worn but durable, after years of gain and loss in his strivings to medicine the human condition.
    Eadmer did not move or utter a sound as the sheet was drawn down to uncover a face now somewhat eased, Cadfael thought, of its living discouragement and suspicion. The sinews of the cheeks and jaw had relaxed their sour tightness, and with it some years had slipped from him, leaving him almost serene. Eadmer gazed at him with prolonged wonder and compassion, and said simply: "Yes, that is my penitent."
    "You are quite sure?" said Cadfael.
    "Quite sure."
    "And he made confession and received absolution? Praise be to God!" said Father Elias, drawing up the sheet again. "I need not hesitate further. On the very day of his death he cleansed his soul. He did perform his penance?"
    "We said what was due together," said Eadmer. "He was distressed, and I wanted to see him depart in better comfort, and so he did. I saw no cause to be hard on him. It seemed to me he might have done enough penance in his lifetime to be somewhat in credit. There are those who make their own way stony. There's no merit in it, but I doubt if they can help it, and I felt it should count in extenuation of some small sins."
    For that Father Elias gave him a sharp and somewhat disapproving glance, but forbore from reproving what an austere old man might well consider the presumption, even levity, of youth. Eadmer was certainly innocent of having set out to arouse any such reservations. He opened his honest brown eyes wide on Father Elias, and said simply: "I'm glad out of measure, Father, that Brother Cadfael thought to come looking for me in time. And even more glad that I was there when this man was in need. God knows I have failings of my own to confess, for I was vexed at first when he came stumbling up the stairs. I came near to telling him to go away and come back at a better time, until I saw his face clearly. And all because he was making me late for Vespers."
    It was said so naturally and simply that it passed Brother Cadfael by for a long moment. He had turned towards the open doorway, where Girard was already leading the way out, and the early evening hung textured like a pearl, the westering sun veiled. He had heard the words without regarding them, and enlightenment fell on him so dazzlingly that he stumbled on the threshold. He swung about to stare at the