“And you never feel,” said Cadfael quietly, “any desire to look back over your shoulder?”
“No,” said Haluin tranquilly. “No need. There behind me all is well. All is very well. There is nothing now for me to do there, everything where I am bound. We are sister and brother now. We ask nothing more, we want nothing more. Now I can bring a whole heart to God. I’m glad beyond measure that he cast me down, to raise me renewed to his service.”
There was a long, untroubled silence, while he continued to stare out into the clear night with a kind of bright hunger in his face. “I left a leaf half finished when we set out for Hales,” he said meditatively. “I thought to be back to complete it long before this. I hope Anselm has not given it to someone else. It was a capital N for the Nunc Dimittis, still wanting half of the colors.”
“It will be waiting for you,” Cadfael assured him.
“Aelfric is good, but he doesn’t know my intent, he might overdo the gold.” His voice was soft and practical and young.
“Leave fretting,” said Cadfael. “Possess your soul three days more in patience, and you’ll have brush and pen in hand again, and get back to work. And so must I to my herbs, for the medicine cupboards will be running low by this time. Lie down, lad, and get your rest. There are more miles waiting for you tomorrow.”
A soft wind from the west blew in through the open window, and Haluin lifted his head and sniffed the air like a high-bred horse scenting his stable.
“How good it is,” he said, “to be going home!”
the end
<BookMark>
