“Would you have known him again?” asked Edmund, emerging at Cadfael’s shoulder. “He came once or twice on his master’s errands, I remember, but between eighteen or so and his middle twenties a man can change past recognition, especially a man who’s made his way to the ends of the earth and back. I wonder sometimes, Cadfael, I even glimpse sometimes, what I may have missed.”
“And do you thank your father for giving you to God.” wondered Cadfael, “or wish he’d left you your chances among men?” They had been friends long enough and closely enough to permit such a question.
Brother Edmund smiled his quiet, composed smile. “You at least can question no one’s act but your own. I am of a past order, Cadfael, there’ll be no more of me, not under Radulfus, at any rate. Come to Compline, and pray for the constancy we promised.”
The young man Elave was admitted to chapter next morning, as soon as the immediate household affairs had been dealt with.
The numbers at chapter were swelled that day by the visiting clerics. Canon Gerbert, his mission necessarily delayed for a while, could not but turn his frustrated energies to meddling in whatever came to hand, and sat enthroned beside Abbot Radulfus throughout the session, and the bishop’s deacon, committed to faithful attendance on this formidable prelate, hovered anxiously at his elbow. This Serlo was, as Hugh had said, a meek little fellow with a soft, round, ingenuous face, much in awe of Gerbert. He might have been in his forties, smooth-cheeked and pink and wholesome, with a thin, greying ring of fair hair, erased here and there by incipient baldness. No doubt he had suffered from his overpowering companion along the road, and was intent simply on completing his errand as soon and as peaceably as possible. It might seem a very long way to Chester, if he was instructed to go so far.
Into this augmented and august assembly Elave came when he was bidden, refreshed and bright with the relief of reaching his goal and shedding his burden of responsibility. His face was open and confident, even joyful. He had no reason to expect anything but acceptance.
“My lord,” said Elave, “I have brought back from the Holy Land the body of my master, William of Lythwood, who was well known in this town, and has been in his time a benefactor to the abbey and the church. Sir, you will not have known him, for he left on his pilgrimage seven years ago, but there are brothers here who will remember his gifts and charities, and bear witness for him. It was his wish to be buried in the cemetery here at the abbey, and I ask for him, with all respect, his funeral and grave within these walls.”
Probably he had rehearsed that speech many times, Cadfael thought, and shaped and reshaped it doubtfully, for he did not seem like a man of many or ready words, unless, perhaps, he was roused in defense of something he valued. However that might be, he delivered it from the heart. He had a pleasant voice, pitched agreeably low, and travel had taught him how to bear himself among men of all kinds and all fortunes.
Radulfus nodded acknowledgment, and turned to Prior Robert. “You were here, Robert, seven years ago and more, as I was not. Tell me of this man as you remember him. He was a merchant of Shrewsbury?”
“A much respected merchant,” said the prior readily. “He kept a flock folded and grazed on the Welsh side of the town, and acted as agent for a number of other sheep farmers of the middle kind, to sell their clips together to the best advantage. He also had a workshop preparing vellum from the skins. Of good repute, very fine white vellum. We have bought from him in the past. So do other monastic houses. His nephews have the business now. Their family house is near Saint Alkmund’s church in the town.”
“And he has been a patron of our house?”
Brother Benedict the sacristan detailed the many gifts William had made over the years, both to the choir and to the parish of Holy Cross. “He was a close friend of Abbot Heribert’s, who died here among us three years ago.” Heribert, too gentle and mild for the taste of Bishop Henry of Winchester, then papal legate, had been demoted to give place to Radulfus, and had ended his days quite happily as a simple choir-monk, without regrets.
“William also gave freely in winter for the poor,” added Brother Oswald the almoner.
“It seems that William has well deserved to have what he asks,” said the abbot, and looked up encouragingly at his petitioner. “I understand you went with him on pilgrimage. You have done well by your master, I commend your loyalty, and I trust the journey has done great good to you, living, as to your master, who died still a pilgrim. There could be no more blessed death. Leave us now. I will speak with you again very soon.”
Elave made him a deep reverence, and went out from the chapter house with a buoyant step, like a man going to a festival.
Canon Gerbert had refrained from comment while the petitioner was present, but he cleared his throat vociferously as soon as Elave had vanished, and said with weighty gravity: “My lord abbot, it is a great privilege to be buried within the walls. It must not be granted lightly. Is it certain that this is a fit case for such an honor? There must be many men, above the rank of merchant, who would wish to achieve such a resting place. It behooves your house to consider very gravely before admitting anyone, however charitable, who may fall short of worthiness.”
“I have never held,” said Radulfus, unperturbed, “that rank or trade is valued before God. We have heard an impressive list of this man’s gifts to our church, let alone those to his fellowmen. And bear in mind that he undertook, and accomplished, the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, an act of devotion that testifies to his quality and courage.”
It was characteristic of Serlo, that harmless and guileless soul - so Cadfael thought long afterward, when the dust had settled - to speak up with the best of intentions at the wrong moment, and in disastrously wrong words.
“So good counsel prevailed,” he said, beaming. “A timely word of admonishment and warning has had this blessed effect. Truly a priest should never be silent when he hears doctrine misread. His words may turn a soul astray into the right path.”
His childlike gratification faded slowly into the heavy silence he had provoked. He looked about him without immediate understanding, and gradually perceived how most eyes avoided him, looking studiously far into distance or down into folded hands, while Abbot Radulfus viewed him steadily and hard but without expression, and Canon Gerbert turned on him a cold, transfixing glare. The beaming smile faded sickly from Serlo’s round and innocent face. “To pay good heed to stricture and obey instruction atones for all errors,” he ventured, trying to edge away whatever in his words had caused this consternation, and failing. His voice ebbed feebly into silence.
“What doctrine,” demanded Gerbert with black deliberation, “had this man misread? What occasion had his priest had to admonish him? Are you saying that he was ordered to go on pilgrimage, to purge some mortal error?”
“No, no, not ordered,” said Serlo faintly. “It was suggested to him that his soul would benefit by such a reparation.”
“Reparation for what gross offense?” pursued the canon relentlessly.
“Oh, none, none that did harm to any, no act of violence or dishonesty. It is long past,” said Serlo gallantly, digging in his heels with unaccustomed bravery to retrieve what he had launched. “It was nine years ago, when Archbishop William of Corbeil, of blessed memory, sent out a preaching mission to many of the towns in England. As papal legate he was concerned for the well-being of the Church, and thought fit to use preaching canons from his own house at Saint Osyth’s. I was sent to attend on the reverend Father who came into our diocese, and I was with him when he preached here at the High Cross. William of Lythwood entertained us to supper afterward, and there was much earnest talk. He was not contumacious, he did but enquire and question, and in all solemnity. A courteous, hospitable man. But even in thought - for want of proper instruction“