Brother Cadfael 16: The Heretic's Apprentice

while the water under the opposite bank lay smooth and almost still.
    "And we'll be on our way, too," said Cadfael, gathering the pony's rein, "for there's nothing any man can do more here. All's done now, and by the same token, might have been much worse done. Here, you ride and I'll walk with you, and we'll just make our way quietly home."
    "Would he have harmed her?" Elave asked after long silence, when they were threading the highroad through the thriving houses and shops of Frankwell and approaching the western bridge.
    "How can we know, when she herself cannot be certain? God's providence decreed that he should not. That must be enough for us. And you were his instrument."
    "I have been the death of his brother for Girard," said Elave. "How can he but blame me? What better could I expect from him now?"
    "Would it have been better for Girard if his brother had lived to be hanged?" asked Cadfael. "And his name blown about in the scandal of it? No, leave Girard to Hugh. He's a man of sense, he'll not hold it against you. You sent him back a daughter, he won't grudge her to you when the time comes."
    "I never killed a man before." Elave's voice was weary and reflective. "In all those miles we travelled, and with dangers and fights enough along the way, I doubt if I ever drew blood."
    "You did not kill him, and must not claim more than your due. His own actions killed him."
    "Do you think he may have dragged himself ashore somewhere? Living? Could he live? After that?"
    "All things are possible," said Cadfael. But he remembered the arms in their smouldering sleeves clamped fast over the thing Jevan had snatched from the fire, the long body swept past beneath the water without struggle or sound, and he had not much doubt what would be found next day, somewhere in the circuit of the town.
    Over the bridge and through the streets the pony paced placidly, and at the descent of the Wyle he snuffed the evening air and his pace grew brisker, scenting his stable and the comforts of home.
    When they entered the great court the brothers had just come out from Compline. Abbot Radulfus emerged from the cloister to cross to his own lodging, with his distinguished guests one on either side. They came at the right moment to see a brother of the house leading in, on one of the abbey's ponies, the prisoner accused of heresy, and released on his parole some three hours earlier. The rider was soiled and blackened by smoke, his hands and his hair at the temples somewhat scorched by fire, a circumstance he had not so far noticed, but which rendered the whole small procession a degree more outrageous in Canon Gerbert's eyes. Brother Cadfael's calm acceptance of this unseemly spectacle only redoubled the offence. He helped Elave to dismount, patted him encouragingly on the back, and ambled off to the stables with the pony, leaving the prisoner to return to his cell of his own volition, even gladly, as if he were indeed coming home. This was no way to hold an alleged heretic. Everything about the procedures here in the abbey of Saint Peter and Saint Paul scandalized Canon Gerbert.
    "Well, well!" said the bishop, unshaken, even appreciative. "Whatever else the young man may be, he's a man of his word."
    "I marvel," said Gerbert coldly, "that your lordship should ever have taken such a risk. If you had lost him it would have been a grave dereliction, and a great injury to the Church."
    "If I had lost him," said the bishop, unmoved, "he would have lost more and worse. But he comes back as he went, intact!"
    Chapter Fifteen
    Brother Cadfael asked audience with the abbot early next morning, to recount all that had happened, and was glad to meet Hugh arriving just as he himself was leaving. Hugh's session with Abbot Radulfus lasted longer. There was much to tell, and much still to do, for nothing had yet been seen of Jevan of Lythwood, dead or alive, since he had leaped into the Severn a lighted torch, his hair erected and ablaze. For Radulfus, too, the day's business was of grave importance. Roger de Clinton abhorred time wasted, and was needed in Coventry, and it was his intention to make an end, one way or another, at this morning's chapter, and be off back to his restless and vulnerable city.
    "Oh, yes, and I have brought and delivered to Canon Gerbert," said Hugh, rising to take his leave, "the latest report from Owain's borders. Earl Ranulf has come to terms for the time being, and it suits Owain to keep the peace with him for a while. The