Roger Taylor - Whistler

‘There you are,’ he said to Privv, without looking at him. ‘As I said, Brother Cassraw’s fine. No reason for anyone to be concerned. I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey. Still, I’m sure that you’ll find plenty of other things to… reassure… your readers about.’

But Privv was not one to be hindered by politeness when need arose.

‘Brother Cassraw,’ he shouted, waving his hand past Horld. ‘Brother Cassraw. Can you spare me a minute?’

He sensed Horld’s great hand curling up into a most unclerical fist, but he broadened his smile and redoubled his waving. Cassraw had by now reached the foot of the stairs and was being accosted by an anxious Morem. He nodded to something that Morem was saying, then looked towards the door. Horld, considerably unsettled by the sudden appearance of the man he thought was still lying comatose in his room, was about to push Privv bodily away from the door and slam it after him. He had visions of Privv bombarding Cassraw with questions and being treated to the eerie nodding and smiling that had hallmarked Cassraw’s conduct prior to his collapse. He was already reading the consequences amplified beyond recognition in Privv’s Sheet.

Even as he was bracing himself to give this wretched man a good push, Cassraw called out, ‘Who is it, Brother?’ and moved Morem to one side. He sounded quite his old self again.

This time it was Horld who stammered. ‘It’s only a Sheeter, Brother Cassraw. He’s just leaving.’

‘Brother Cassraw – a minute, if you please.’ Privv continued his barrage regardless of this exchange.

Cassraw stared at him for a moment, then raised his hand and beckoned him forward. ‘Let him in,’ he said to Horld. ‘I’m sure we can spare him a minute or two. We mustn’t turn our backs on these new ways, must we?’

Horld could have disputed that at great length but, with blatant reluctance, he lowered his arm. Released, Privv bustled past him and made straight for Cassraw like a dog sighting food, Horld staring after him in open distaste.

Cassraw redirected the Sheeter towards the bench-seat and then sat down beside him. Horld, shepherd-like, hovered over them both while Morem stood back and watched uneasily.

‘We have to get on with our meeting, Brother Cassraw,’ Horld said significantly. ‘There is a great deal to discuss yet.’

Cassraw nodded. ‘I know,’ he said. Then he turned to Privv, confidential. ‘I’m afraid my little walk yesterday not only cost me a bruise or two, it’s caused no small number of administrative problems so I can’t talk for long. What is it you wanted to see me about?’

Before Privv could answer, Cassraw gave a slight start. Then he smiled and shook his head. ‘Come on,’ he said to someone other than Privv and, reaching down, he picked something up. ‘I don’t know how you got in here, but you’ve been haunting me ever since I left my room, haven’t you?’

He placed the burden on his knee.

Privv found himself looking down at Leck, nestling comfortably in Cassraw’s lap.

Cassraw held open his arms and addressed the assembled Chapter Brothers. His hands and face showed the damage he had suffered the previous day, but he was groomed and immaculate and, seemingly, in complete control of himself.

‘My friends, what can I say?’ he began. ‘My apologies, certainly. And my thanks – for your patience, and for your prayers. And my special thanks to Brothers Vredech and Horld and the others for their courage and compassion in venturing out into the darkness to find me. Not to mention their good practical help in bringing me back here.’ He turned to the head of the table. ‘Brother Mueran, in particular I ask your forgiveness for more than the trouble I caused yesterday. My behaviour of late has left much to be desired. I’m all too well aware of that now.’ He clasped his hands and looked upwards. ‘The ways of Ishryth are indeed often beyond our knowing, and whatever led me into my… escapade… yesterday, and held me in that mysterious sleep through the night and most of this day has brought me to my senses.’

He held out the torn and stained cassock that he had been wearing. ‘I shall hang this in a special place in my living quarters at the Meeting House to serve as a constant reminder of the folly into which men can be led by their arrogance.’ His manner eased and he smiled in self-reproach. ‘And, to ensure a reminder of a different kind, should you at any time find me setting my face against the ways of the church, or being obdurate beyond reason in debate, then I give you my permission here and now to turn to me and say: “Brother Cassraw, remember the lessons you learned in the darkness.”’ Then, with a slight, deprecating wave of his hands, he sat down.

There was a spontaneous burst of applause from several of the Brothers, and most of the remainder were nodding in approval and relief at this speech. For though it had been short, its simplicity and the openness of its delivery had held all its hearers spellbound; Cassraw had considerable presence as an orator when he chose. Only Vredech seemed to be uncertain about this sudden change of heart by his friend. It showed on his face and, unfortunately, Mueran noticed it. With yesterday’s awful problems apparently evaporating before his eyes, and the prospect of normality returning once more, he felt a great burden being lifted from him and he was desperately anxious to ensure the complete unanimity of the Chapter in accepting Cassraw’s recantation. It had been fortuitous that Cassraw had suddenly emerged from his strange coma in time to appease that wretched Sheeter, but one couldn’t be too careful. Sheeters could present the slightest disagreement as Schism, and the slightest misdemeanour as scandal. A unified front was essential, if only for the next few days, until Cassraw had made his peace with those of his flock whom he had offended.

‘Brother Vredech, you seem unhappy,’ he risked.

Vredech felt himself the focus of the surprised but good-natured attention of his colleagues. Under its pressure he forced his face into a smile that he did not feel. He looked at Cassraw who was still standing, his head bowed, as if awaiting judgement. He felt the will of the meeting and the great momentum of the minutiae of everyday life seeking to reassert itself. Let everything be as it was. He was not immune to such pressure. Change is a fearful thing.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said with a disarming shrug as he gathered his thoughts. ‘I’m a little out of sorts. I slept badly last night, despite the day’s exertions.’

‘I doubt any of us slept well,’ Mueran said, allowing himself a tone of gentle rebuke. ‘With Brother Cassraw lying unconscious amongst us.’

Vredech was anxious now to be away from this scrutiny. Words seemed reluctant to come to him, however, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that he managed to say, ‘I’m truly glad that Brother Cassraw is back with us in every way.’

It was enough for Mueran. He turned to Cassraw and motioned him to sit down. Before he did so, Cassraw turned and looked at Vredech, his face full of gratitude and thanks. He was the Cassraw whom everyone knew and loved, the man whose diligence and ability had been such that he had shown himself suitable to receive the Haven Parish.

No! Voices deep inside Vredech called out in denial.

This was not that Cassraw. He was different. Something was askew, not right.

Not right.

He pushed the voices down, crushing them with his own need to be at ease with everything again. At his acknowledging nod, Cassraw finally sat down. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the carefully folded cassock.

Mueran speedily guided the meeting through such of the business as had been abandoned at Cassraw’s explosive exit the previous day, and the Chapter Members dispersed quickly and without ceremony.