Brother Cadfael 16: The Heretic's Apprentice

joined the procession of his brothers into the dim, cool cavern of the choir, and prayed fervently for Aldwin, dead and buried in his piteous human imperfection, and for William of Lythwood, come home contented and shriven to rest in his own place, and for all those trammelled and tormented by suspicion and doubt and fear, the guilty as well as the innocent, for who needs succour more? Whether he was building a fantastic folly round a book which might not even exist, or confronting a serious peril for any who blundered on too much knowledge, one crime was hard and clear as black crystal: someone had taken the sad, inoffensive life of Aldwin the clerk, of whom the one man he had injured had said honestly: "Everything he has said that I said, I did say." But someone else, to whom he had done nothing, had slipped a dagger very deftly between his ribs from behind and killed him.
    Cadfael emerged from Vespers consoled, but not the less aware of his own responsibilities. It was still full daylight, but with the slanting evening radiance about it, and the stillness of the air that seemed to dim all colours into a diaphanous pearly sheen. There remained one enquiry he could still make, before going further. It was just possible that Fortunata, grown dubious of venturing to ask admittance to Elave so soon after a first visit, had simply asked someone at the gate, in the porter's brief absence, to carry a message to the prisoner, nothing to which any man could raise objection, merely to remind him his friends thought of him, and begged him to keep up his courage. It might not mean anything that Cadfael had not encountered her on her way home; she might already have been back in the town, and used the time to some other purpose before returning home. At least he would have a word with the boy, and satisfy himself he was not anxious to no purpose.
    He took the key from where it hung in the porch, and went to let himself into the cell. Elave swung round from his little desk, and turned a frowning face because he had been narrowing his eyes and knitting his brows in the dimming light over one of Augustine's more humane and ecstatic sermons. The apparent cloud cleared as soon as he left poring over the cramped minuscule of the text. Other people feared for him, but it seemed to Cadfael that Elave himself was quite free from fear, and had not shown even as restive in his close confinement.
    "There's something of the monk in you," said Cadfael, speaking his thought aloud. "You may end up under a cowl yet."
    "Never!" said Elave fervently, and laughed aloud at the notion.
    "Well, perhaps it would be a waste, seeing what other ideas you have for the future. But you have the mind for it. Traveling the world or penned in a stone cell, neither of them upsets your balance. So much the better for you! Has anyone thought to tell you that the bishop's come? In person! He pays you a compliment, for Coventry's nearer the turmoil than we are here, and he needs to keep a close eye on his church there, so time given to your case is a mark of your importance. And it may be a short time, for he looks like a man who can make up his mind briskly."
    "I heard the to-do about someone arriving," said Elave. "I heard the horses on the cobbles. But I didn't know who it might be. Then he'll be wanting me soon?" At Cadfael's questioning glance he smiled, though seriously enough. "I'm ready. I want it, too. I've made good use of my time here. I've found that even this Augustine went through many changes of mind over the years. You could take some of his early writings, and they say the very opposite of what he said in old age. That, and a dozen changes between. Cadfael, did you ever think what a waste it would be if you burned a man for what he believed at twenty, when what he might believe and write at forty would be hailed as the most blessed of holy writ?"
    "That is the kind of argument to which the most of men never listen," said Cadfael. "Otherwise they would balk at taking any life. You haven't been visited today, have you?"
    "Only by Anselm. Why?"
    "Nor had any message from Fortunata?"
    "No. Why?" repeated Elave with sharper urgency, seeing Cadfael frown. "All's well with her, I trust?"
    "So I trust also," agreed Cadfael, "and so it should be. She told her family she was coming down to the abbey to ask if she could see you again, or get word of any progress in your case, that's why I asked. But no one has seen her. She hasn't been here."
    "And that