Brother Cadfael 16: The Heretic's Apprentice by Ellis Peters Page A

is vain and sinful."
    "I don't believe it," said Elave loudly and firmly. "Or why should we even try to deal justly? These very priests urge us to do right, and demand of us confession and penance if we fall short. Why, if the roll is already made up? Where is the sense of it? No, I do not believe it!"
    Aldwin was looking at him in awed solemnity. "You do not believe even Saint Augustine?"
    "If he wrote that, no, I do not believe him."
    There was a sudden heavy silence, as though this blunt statement had knocked both his interrogators out of words. Aldwin, looking side wise with narrowed and solemn eyes, drew furtively along the bench, removing even his sleeve from compromising contact with so perilous a neighbour.
    "Well," said Conan at length, too cheerfully and too loudly, shifting briskly on his side of the table as though time had suddenly nudged him in the ribs, "I suppose we'd best be stirring, or we'll none of us be up in time to get the work done tomorrow before Mass. Straight from a wake to a wedding, as the saying goes! Let's hope the weather still holds." And he rose, thrusting back his end of the bench, and stood stretching his thick, long limbs.
    "It will," said Aldwin confidently, recovering from his wary stillness with a great intake of breath. "The saint had the sun shine on her procession when they brought her here from Saint Giles, while it rained all around. She won't fail us tomorrow." And he, too, rose, with every appearance of relief. Plainly the convivial evening was over, and two, at least, were glad of it.
    Elave sat still until they were gone, with loud and overamicable good-nights, about their last tasks before bed. The house had fallen silent. Margaret was sitting in the kitchen, going over the day's events for flaws and compensations with the neighbour who came in to help her on such special occasions. Fortunata had not moved or spoken. Elave turned to face her, doubtfully eyeing her stillness, and the intent gravity of her face. Silence and solemnity seemed alien in her, and perhaps really were, but when they took possession of her they were entire and impressive.
    "You are so quiet," said Elave doubtfully. "Have I offended you in anything I've said? I know I've talked too much, and too presumptuously."
    "No," she said, her voice measured and low, "nothing has offended me. I never thought about such things before, that's all. I was too young, when you went away, for William ever to talk so to me. He was very good to me, and I'm glad you spoke up boldly for him. So would I have done."
    But she had no more to say, not then. Whatever she was thinking now about such things she was not yet ready to say, and perhaps by tomorrow she would have abandoned the consideration of what was difficult even for the world's philosophers and theologians, and would come down with Margaret and Jevan to Saint Winifred's festival content to enjoy the music and excitement and worship without questioning, to listen and say Amen.
    She went out with him across the yard and through the entry into the street when he left, and gave him her hand at parting, still in a silence that was composed and withdrawn.
    "I shall see you at church tomorrow?" said Elave, belatedly afraid that he had indeed alienated her, for she confronted him with so wide and thoughtful a stare of her unwavering hazel eyes that he could not even guess at what went on in the mind behind them.
    "Yes," said Fortunata simply, "I shall be there." And she smiled, briefly and abstractedly, withdrew her hand gently from his, and turned back to return to the house, leaving him to walk back through the town to the bridge still unhappily in doubt whether he had not talked a great deal too much and too rashly, and injured himself in her eyes.
    The sun duly shone for Saint Winifred on her festival day, as it had on the day of her first coming to the abbey of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. The gardens overflowed with blossom, the eager pilgrims housed by Brother Denis put