Read The Devils Novice for Free Online Page B
Authors: Ellis Peters
evil dreams, I recall
nothing of them. I know no reason why I should so disturb the dortoir. It is as
much a mystery to me as to any. I can but hope it will not happen again.”
The
abbot frowned and pondered. “It is strange that so violent a disturbance should
arise in your mind without cause. I think, rather, that the shock of seeing
Brother Wolstan lying in his blood does provide a source of deep distress. But
that you should have so little power to accept, and to control your own spirit,
does that bode well, son, for a true vocation?”
It
was the one suggested threat that seemed to alarm Meriet. He sank to his knees,
with an abrupt and agitated grace that brought the ample habit swirling about
him like a cloak, and lifted a strained face and pleading hands to the abbot.
“Father,
help me, believe me! All my wish is to enter here and be at peace, to do all that
the Rule asks of me, to cut off all the threads that bind me to my past. If I
offend, if I transgress, willingly or no, wittingly or no, medicine me, punish
me, lay on me whatever penance you see fit, only don’t cast me out!”
“We
do not so easily despair of a postulant,” said Radulfus, “or turn our backs on
one in need of time and help. There are medicines to soothe a too-fevered mind.
Brother Cadfael has such. But they are aids that should be used only in grave
need, while you seek better cures in prayer, and in the mastery of yourself.”
“I
could better come to terms,” said Meriet vehemently, “if you would but shorten
the period of my probation, and let me in to the fullness of this life. Then
there would be no more doubt or fear…”
Or
hope? wondered Cadfael, watching him; and went on to wonder if the same thought
had not entered the abbot’s mind.
“The
fullness of this life,” said Radulfus sharply, “must be deserved. You are not
ready yet to take vows. Both you and we must practise patience some time yet
before you will be fit to join us. The more hotly you hasten, the more will you
fall behind. Remember that, and curb your impetuosity. For this time, we will
wait. I accept that you have not offended willingly, I trust that you may never
again suffer or cause such disruption. Go now, Brother Paul will tell you our
will for you.”
Meriet
cast one flickering glance round all the considering faces, and departed,
leaving the brothers to debate what was best to be done with him. Prior Robert,
on his mettle, and quick to recognise a humility in which there was more than a
little arrogance, felt that the mortification of the flesh, whether by hard
labour, a bread and water diet, or flagellation, might help to concentrate and
purify a troubled spirit. Several took the simplest line: since the boy had
never intended wrong, and yet was a menace to others, punishment was
undeserved, but segregation from his fellows might be considered justified, in
the interests of the general peace. Yet even that might seem to him a punishment,
Brother Paul pointed out.
“It
may well be,” said the abbot finally, “that we trouble ourselves needlessly.
How many of us have never had one ill night, and broken it with nightmares?
Once is but once. We have none of us come to any harm, not even the children.
Why should we not trust that we have seen both the first and the last of it?
Two doors can be closed between the dortoir and the boys, should there again be
need. And should there again be need, then further measures can be taken.”
Three
nights passed peacefully, but on the fourth there was another commotion in the
small hours, less alarming than on the first occasion, but scarcely less
disturbing. No wild outcry this time, but twice or thrice, at intervals, there
were words spoken loudly and in agitation, and such as were distinguishable
were deeply disquieting, and caused his fellow-novices to hold off from him
with even deeper suspicion.
“He
cried out, “No, no, no!” several times,”
nothing of them. I know no reason why I should so disturb the dortoir. It is as
much a mystery to me as to any. I can but hope it will not happen again.”
The
abbot frowned and pondered. “It is strange that so violent a disturbance should
arise in your mind without cause. I think, rather, that the shock of seeing
Brother Wolstan lying in his blood does provide a source of deep distress. But
that you should have so little power to accept, and to control your own spirit,
does that bode well, son, for a true vocation?”
It
was the one suggested threat that seemed to alarm Meriet. He sank to his knees,
with an abrupt and agitated grace that brought the ample habit swirling about
him like a cloak, and lifted a strained face and pleading hands to the abbot.
“Father,
help me, believe me! All my wish is to enter here and be at peace, to do all that
the Rule asks of me, to cut off all the threads that bind me to my past. If I
offend, if I transgress, willingly or no, wittingly or no, medicine me, punish
me, lay on me whatever penance you see fit, only don’t cast me out!”
“We
do not so easily despair of a postulant,” said Radulfus, “or turn our backs on
one in need of time and help. There are medicines to soothe a too-fevered mind.
Brother Cadfael has such. But they are aids that should be used only in grave
need, while you seek better cures in prayer, and in the mastery of yourself.”
“I
could better come to terms,” said Meriet vehemently, “if you would but shorten
the period of my probation, and let me in to the fullness of this life. Then
there would be no more doubt or fear…”
Or
hope? wondered Cadfael, watching him; and went on to wonder if the same thought
had not entered the abbot’s mind.
“The
fullness of this life,” said Radulfus sharply, “must be deserved. You are not
ready yet to take vows. Both you and we must practise patience some time yet
before you will be fit to join us. The more hotly you hasten, the more will you
fall behind. Remember that, and curb your impetuosity. For this time, we will
wait. I accept that you have not offended willingly, I trust that you may never
again suffer or cause such disruption. Go now, Brother Paul will tell you our
will for you.”
Meriet
cast one flickering glance round all the considering faces, and departed,
leaving the brothers to debate what was best to be done with him. Prior Robert,
on his mettle, and quick to recognise a humility in which there was more than a
little arrogance, felt that the mortification of the flesh, whether by hard
labour, a bread and water diet, or flagellation, might help to concentrate and
purify a troubled spirit. Several took the simplest line: since the boy had
never intended wrong, and yet was a menace to others, punishment was
undeserved, but segregation from his fellows might be considered justified, in
the interests of the general peace. Yet even that might seem to him a punishment,
Brother Paul pointed out.
“It
may well be,” said the abbot finally, “that we trouble ourselves needlessly.
How many of us have never had one ill night, and broken it with nightmares?
Once is but once. We have none of us come to any harm, not even the children.
Why should we not trust that we have seen both the first and the last of it?
Two doors can be closed between the dortoir and the boys, should there again be
need. And should there again be need, then further measures can be taken.”
Three
nights passed peacefully, but on the fourth there was another commotion in the
small hours, less alarming than on the first occasion, but scarcely less
disturbing. No wild outcry this time, but twice or thrice, at intervals, there
were words spoken loudly and in agitation, and such as were distinguishable
were deeply disquieting, and caused his fellow-novices to hold off from him
with even deeper suspicion.
“He
cried out, “No, no, no!” several times,”