Brother Cadfael 16: The Heretic's Apprentice Read Free Page A

own right?
    Yes, an audacious father might well respect audacity in his son. No doubt, thought Cadfael, we shall hear more of this Henry Plantagenet who's minding his lessons and biding his time in Bristol.
    "I must be off," said Hugh, rising and stretching lazily in the warmth of the sun. "I've had my fill of clerics for today - no offence to present company, but, then, you're no cleric. Did you never fancy taking minor orders, Cadfael? Just far enough to claim the benefit if ever one of your less seemly exploits came to light? Better the abbot's court than mine, if ever it came to it!"
    "If ever it came to it," said Cadfael sedately, rising with him, "the likelihood is you'd need to keep your mouth tight shut, for you'd be in it with me nine times out of ten. Do you remember the horses you hid from the king's roundup when -"
    Hugh flung an arm round his friend's shoulders, laughing. "Oh, if you're to start remembering, I can more than match you. Better agree to let old deeds rest. We were always the most reasonable of men. Come on, bear me company as far as the gatehouse. It must be getting round towards Vespers."
    They made their way along the gravel path together without haste, beside the box hedge and through the vegetable garden to where the rose beds began. Brother Winfrid was just coming over the crest from the slope of the pease field, striding springily with his spade over his shoulder.
    "Get leave soon, and come up and see your godson," said Hugh as they rounded the box hedge, and the hum and the bustle of the court reached out to surround them like the busy sound of bees in swarm. "As soon as we reach town Giles begins asking for you."
    "I will, gladly. I miss him when you go north, but he's better there through the summer than here shut within walls. And Aline's well?" He asked it serenely, well aware that he would have heard of it at once if there had been anything amiss.
    "Blooming like a rose. But come and see for yourself. She'll be expecting you."
    They came round the comer of the guest hall into the court, still almost as lively as a town square. One more horse was being led down to the stables; Brother Denis was receiving the arriving guest, dusty from the road, at the door of his domain; two or three attendant novices were running to and fro with brychans and candles and pitchers of water; visitors already settled stood watching the newcomers throng in at the gatehouse, greeting friends among them, renewing old acquaintances and embarking on new, while the children of the cloister, oblates and schoolboys alike, gathered in little groups, all eyes and ears, bouncing and shrilling like crickets, and darting about among the pilgrims as excitedly as dogs at a fair. The passing of Brother Jerome, scuttling up the court from the cloister towards the infirmary, would normally have subdued the boys into demure silence, but in this cheerful turmoil it was easy to avoid him.
    "You'll have your house full for the festival," said Hugh, halting to watch the coloured chaos, and taking pleasure in it as candidly as did the children.
    In the group gathered just within the gate there was a sudden ripple of movement. The porter drew back towards the doorway of his lodge, and on either side people recoiled as if to allow passage to horsemen, but there was no sharp rapping of hooves striking the cobbles under the arch of the gateway. Those who entered came on foot, and as they emerged into the court the reason for making such generous way for them became apparent. A long, flat handcart came creaking in, towed by a thickset, grizzled countryman before, and pushed by a lean and travel-stained young man behind. The load it carried was covered by a dun-coloured cloak, and topped with a bundle wrapped in sacking, but by the way the two men leaned and strained at it, it was seen to be heavy, and the shape of it, a man's height long and shoulder-wide, brought mortality to mind. A ripple of silence washed outward from it, and by