The Heretic's Apprentice by Ellis Peters Page A

seemly that a funeral should be fittingly observed and tidied away before the day of Saint Winifred’s translation, so that everything on the morrow could be festive and auspicious, like the unclouded weather they hoped for. From the efficacy of the relics of saints and the validity of their miracles it was no long way to the matter of William. It was, after all, William’s day, and fitting that they should be remembering him well into the dusk.
    â€˜According to one of the brothers down there,’ said Aldwin earnestly, ‘the little anxious grey fellow that runs so busy about the prior, it was a question whether the old man would be let in at all. Somebody there was for digging up that old scuffle he had with the missioner, to deny him a place.’
    â€˜It’s a grave matter to disagree with the Church,’ agreed Conan, shaking his head. ‘It’s not for us to know better than the priests, not where faith’s concerned. Listen and say Amen, that’s my advice. Did ever William talk to you about such things, Elave? You travelled a long way and a good many years with him, did he try to take you along with him down that road, too?’
    â€˜He never made any secret of what he thought,’ said Elave. ‘He’d argue his point, and with good sense, too, even to priests, but there was none of them found any great fault with him for thinking about such things. What are wits for unless a man uses them?’
    â€˜That’s presumption,’ said Aldwin, ‘in simple folk like us, who haven’t the learning or the calling of the churchmen. As the king and the sheriff have power over us in their field, so has the priest in his. It’s not for us to meddle with matters beyond us. Conan’s right, listen and say Amen!’
    â€˜How can you say Amen to damning a newborn child to hell because the little thing died before it could be baptised?’ Elave asked reasonably. ‘It was one of the things that bothered him. He used to argue not even the worst of men could throw a child into the fire, so how could the good God? It’s against his nature.’
    â€˜And you,’ said Aldwin, staring curiosity and concern, ‘did you agree with him? Do you say so, too?’
    â€˜Yes, I do say so. I can’t believe the reason they give us, that babes are born into the world already rotten with sin. How can that be true? A creature new and helpless, barely into this world, how can it ever have done wrong?’
    â€˜They say,’ ventured Conan cautiously, ‘even babes unborn are rotten with the sin of Adam, and fallen with him.’
    â€˜And I say that it’s only his own deeds, bad and good, that a man will have to answer for in the judgement, and that’s what will save or damn him. Though it’s not often I’ve known a man so bad as to make me believe in damnation,’ said Elave, still absorbed into his own reasoning, and intent only on expressing himself clearly and simply, without suspicion of hostility or danger. ‘There was a father of the Church, once, as I heard tell, in Alexandria, who held that in the end everyone would find salvation. Even the fallen angels would return to their fealty, even the devil would repent and make his way back to God.’
    He felt the chill and the shiver that went through his audience, but thought no more of it than that his travelled wisdom, small as it still was, had carried him out of the reach of their parochial innocence. Even Fortunata, listening silently to the talk of the menfolk, had stiffened and opened her eyes wide and round at such an utterance, startled and perhaps shocked. She said nothing in this company, but she followed every word that was spoken, and the colour ebbed and flowed in her cheeks as she glanced attentively from face to face.
    â€˜That’s blasphemous!’ said Aldwin in an awed whisper. ‘The Church tells us there’s no salvation but by grace,