The Heretic's Apprentice by Ellis Peters Read Free Book Online

was this brother?’
    â€˜He was called Pierre Abelard, a Breton. He died in the April, before we set out for Compostela in the May.’
    The name had meant nothing to Elave beyond what he had seen and heard for himself, and kept wonderingly in his mind ever since. But it meant a great deal to Gerbert. He stiffened in his stall, flaring up half a head taller, as a candle suddenly rears pale and lofty as the wick flares.
    â€˜That man? Foolish, gullible soul, do you not know the man himself was twice charged and convicted of heresy? Long ago his writings on the Trinity were burned, and the writer imprisoned. And only three years ago at the Council of Sens he was again convicted of heretical writings, and condemned to have his works destroyed and end his life in perpetual imprisonment.’
    It seemed that Abbot Radulfus, though less exclamatory, was equally well informed, if not better.
    â€˜A sentence which was very quickly revoked,’ he remarked drily, ‘and the author allowed to retire peacefully into Cluny at the request of the abbot.’
    Unwarily Gerbert was provoked into snapping back without due thought. ‘In my view no such revocation should have been granted. It was not deserved. The sentence should have stood.’
    â€˜It was issued by the Holy Father,’ said the abbot gently, ‘who cannot err.’ Whether his tongue was in his cheek at that moment Cadfael could not be sure, but the tone, though soft and reverent, stung, and was meant to sting.
    â€˜So was the sentence!’ Gerbert snapped back even more unwisely. ‘His Holiness surely had misleading information when he withdrew it. Doubtless he made a right judgement upon such truth as was presented to him.’
    Elave spoke up as if to himself, but loudly enough to carry to all ears, and with a brilliance of eye and a jut of jaw that spoke more loudly still. ‘Yet by very definition a thing cannot be its opposite, therefore one judgement or the other must be error. It could as well be the former as the latter.’
    Who was it claimed, Cadfael reflected, startled and pleased, that he could not understand the arguments of the philosophers? This lad had kept his ears open and his mind alert all those miles to Jerusalem and back, and learned more than he’s telling. At least he’s turned Gerbert purple and closed his mouth for a moment.
    A moment was enough for the abbot. This dangerous line of talk was getting out of hand. He cut it short with decision.
    â€˜The Holy Father has authority both to bind and to loose, and the same infallible will that can condemn can also with equal right absolve. There is here, it seems to me, no contradiction at all. Whatever views he may have held seven years ago, William of Lythwood died on pilgrimage, confessed and shriven, in a state of grace. There is no bar to his burial within this enclave, and he shall have what he has asked of us.’

3
    As Cadfael came through the court after dinner, to return to his labours in the herb-garden, he encountered Elave. The young man was just coming down the steps from the guest-hall, in movement and countenance bright and vehement, like a tool honed for fine use. He was still roused and ready to be aggressive after the rough passage of his master’s body to its desired resting-place, the bones of his face showed polished with tension, and his prow of a nose quested belligerently on the summer air.
    â€˜You look ready to bite,’ said Cadfael, coming by design face to face with him.
    The boy looked back at him for a moment uncertain how to respond, where even this unalarming presence was still an unknown quantity. Then he grinned, and the sharp tension eased.
    â€˜Not you, at any rate, Brother! If I showed my teeth, did I not have cause?’
    â€˜Well, at least you know our abbot all the better for it. You have what you asked. But as well keep a lock on your lips until the other one is gone. One way to be sure of