Sister Cobhlaith looks bewildered. Shocked, even.
The Spear of Lugh?!? That's just a myth, something the storytellers use to keep us amused through the long winter nights!
She crosses herself quickly, but then reaches out for the pagan instrument, gently touching it and lifting it up to the light to see all the intricate details of the crafting.
She turns to Fintan. "Your brother is a fine craftsman." .
She frowns. Centuries? Brother O'Maille must have misspoken. The man is under such stress about his father.
She looks up at Brother O'Maille
"Enchantments? This is not believable. Do you mind if I look more closely?"
Cupping the instrument in one hand, closing her eyes, and touching the wooden cross hung around her neck, she whispers, "magicae deprehendere"
The glow is sufficient to notice even with closed eyes. With wonder, she opens them and looks around at them all.
"Protect the Church? God bless and protect us all!! This relic is truly imbued with deep enchantments. "
A determined look crosses her face. "Say nothing to anyone else, I beg of all of you. The danger to the Church is unthinkable if this is truly the Spear of Lugh. Whatever it is, it is worth protecting"
"Was." Aoife correct the sister as she crossed her arms. She didn't seem to be a fan of either Cobhlaith or Daire. Though the odd part was she stood at the sides of those who had been in here before as more of a equal than the slave she was. "Braedan is gone now." Aoife told her.
Though she didn't answer Cobhlaith's question she did shift a bit uneasily and look at Fintan than to Brother O'Maille with questionable eyes.
"Was? I'm so sorry. I didn't realize he had died. "
Sister Cobhlaith turns to the other woman with a serious face.
"What was the cause? Sickness? War?"
"I like to believe that Braedan lived a long and happy life," Fintan answers.
Brother O'Maille places a hand on his friend's shoulder and offers a smile. "We will respect his dying wishes... As you say, Sister Cobhlaith, this is indeed a secret worth protecting. Fintan has agreed that the spear, if found, must remain in the hands of the church. And this is why I have asked you to go with my companions, to be the keeper of this relic that Braedan has gifted us, and to bear witness to events to come."
Long and happy life? How much older was this brother? A puzzle for another time, obviously. Perhaps Daire knows the story.
"I look forward to hearing more about this relic and how it ended up at this church."
Looking down at the object in her hands and gently moves the spoon to one side, testing to see if it will return to the same spot.
"Do you have any documents that pertain to this? A scroll? A parchment page tucked in some other document?"
Sister Cobhlaith's scholarly curiosity is at full flow now, and she will be relentless in searching for more information about its provenance.
The spoon returns to its position, pointing always north-east...
"You have to know how to interpret the symbols," Amergin explains. He proceeds to point out the intricate details of the beautiful carvings, explaining the meaning of the leaves and the runes, and telling the story of the strange-looking fairies that seem to dance all around the odd plate. The old man is surprisingly and extraordinarily knowledgeable.
He knows what he's talking about! He's not making up stories as he goes.
Sister Cobhlaith seldom meets rural strangers who speak with such authority, and she certainly didn't expect to meet anyone here who could match her in wits.
Biting her lip to remind herself not to fall into the sin of pride, she asks Amergin, "Where did you study? Your knowledge is deep, indeed. Which senachae was your teacher?"
This learning did not come from any monastery that I know of.
Daire looks thoughtful for a moment, before launching into verbiage again.
"Aye Sister, I could say a great deal about the saints of Hibernia, and the sinners too! Summer is glorious, chasing away the gloom of winter and bad memories. And, Amergin, you are deadly right. The blessed Saint Patrick would not have been frightened of what he found."
Fintan's appearance cuts short the conversation.
Aye, one to pick up again. There's more to this aul' lad for sure!
****************
Braeden? WHAT!?
He speaks hurridly, with genuine concern.
"Amergin, why do you speak of Fintan's brother as if he is centuries gone? What has befallen him?"
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Brother O'Maille, Aoife, and Fintan exchange cryptic looks. Fintan nods as if to say go ahead and it is Amergin who finally tells the story... He speaks with clarity, assurance, and the melodious voice and rhythm of an expert bard.
He tells first of Brother O’Maille’s vision – granted to him by God when he drank the water of the nearby Holywell. Then, he tells the story of how the vision led Brother O’Maille, along with Fintan and Braedan McGovern, Padraic Ó’Cinnéide, and the slave Aoife to the Marble Arch Caves.
…Of how they fought five magical wolves on their way up the steep slope of the Cuilcagh mountain.
…Of how in the caves they encountered the tortured spirit of Queen Aoife – the infamous mother of the Children of Lir.
…Of how they undertook a spirit quest to save her and travelled through time to a distant past.
…Of how they met him – Amergin Glúingel, Chief Ollam of Ireland – and how they rescued Queen Aoife from the curse of the evil Ailbe, Queen of the Banshee.
…Of how, having fallen in love with Queen Aoife, Braedan decided to stay in the past.
…Of how Amergin chose to come to this time instead of Braedan.
…And ultimately, of how Braedan in the past returned to the Marble Arch Caves and there left this compass for them to discover and use to find the Spear of Lugh.
The story is improbable, to say the least. And yet, Amergin’s sincerity and skill are such that one cannot but trust in the truth of it…
Cobhlaith remembers a bit of scripture.
And all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.
Cobhlaith ponders.
"I know that is a lot to take in." Aoife said with a sigh. "But we speak the truth. Honestly it is so unbelievable I doubt anyone could make it up on their own." She told them as she gave a slight shake of her head. "But now you know what we've been through."
"That is a lot to take in, even when I have heard some of it before, seen where this was recovered and seen Brother O'Maille perform holy miracles both in and out of battle. I don't know how this all fits together, but I am onboard to see the next chapter. First though, we must help Conchobar. Come with us Daire and Sister Cobhlaith or not but we must leave soon and I think you would make many of those here a lot happier if you did come."
Daire stands there, at first gobsmacked, but then realisation dawns on his face.
He's. Not. Codding.
Amergin, even if every word of that was made up on the spot, that would be a fine tale. But it has the smell of truth about it. And I want to see where it leads. You have me hooked like a fish, though I be no salmon of knowledge! I will go with ye, oh yes."
Sister Cobhlaith looks around the group.
"My mind believes and disbelieves at the same time.
But, the young man Conchobar...he left without word? Traveling by himself?"
Foolhardy child. But that's often the way with those just reaching the Age of Choice. I'm hardly one to blame others for sins I myself have committed.
A small smile quirks the corners of her mouth.
She looks down at the object in her hands.
"And this mystery. On its own, it's worth venturing long distances to discover its secrets."
She lifts her eyes and smiles.
"I'll be glad to travel with you"
"One more thing," Amergin intervenes. "I believe that the spear may have been lost to the Otherworld. If such is the case, then you will not find it unless you travel between realms. There is a portal tomb near Gortnavern. When you are ready, I will meet you there."
Observing Sister Cobhlaith's bewilderment, Brother O'Maille smiles awkwardly as if to apologize for opening the proverbial Pandora's box.
Fintan nods. "I expect you all to leave at first light, tomorrow."
"Why not leave now?" Aoife asked as she turned to her brother. "They've been gone long enough to cause worry, is time not our enemy now?" She asked.
"That is entirely up to all of you," Fintan answers with a concerned look, "but the sun is low and you look haggard. You need to rest."
"I am reluctant to speak so harshly," Brother O'Maille adds, "but at this point, Padraic and the boy are either alive or dead. I do not think that this night will change their fate."
"I can handle a night will no sleep. I've done it many times after training." Aoife reminded her half-brother with a small smirk.
That smirk left after Brother Ó'Máille spoke. "You of all people should know that even a moment could change everything." Aoife told him as she crossed her arms. "It takes more time to mount a horse than it does to end a life. You've seen this yourself! How can you stand there and say time means nothing at this point?!"
Brother O'Maille blushes, the rebuke cutting to the quick. "I –" he stops, hurt and embarrassed. "I must prepare for tonight," he finally says, finding a pretext to extricate himself from the situation.
Sister Cobhlaith turns toward the little church.
"Perhaps, before the Beltane fires, we could say the office of Vespers together, Brother? "
Aoife watched him go before she sighed and rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hands. Maybe she had been up too long... when did she last sleep properly? When did she not have some mission or fight or a mess to clean up? Still Ó'Máille didn't deserve her anger. He had been through the worst with her and now his father was ill.
"I leave it to you Ruadhán. I need to go apologize." Aoife said before she gave a nod to Fintan, and followed after Ó'Máille.
"Brother... Brother Ó'Máille!" Aoife called as she quickened her steps.
Thorun watches the developments in silence. A lot of it went way over his head. Dimensions, portals, legendary items. But all he can focus on is Coblaith. Once the others start dissipating he walks up to her and murmurs. "So...how is Aoife?"
Cobhlaith looks at Brother O'Maille.
"I think we each need a moment before prayers."
Softly, so that the others don't overhear, she says,
"Miserable. She misses you terribly."
With a determined look, although still with a smile, Ruadhán takes charge.
"Alright, Thorun get your thumb out of your arse and stop daydreaming, can you get some water skins filled and ready, Daire can you source some food please, Cobhlaith, I leave you the bandages and any healing things we might need if this gets ugly. Aoife can help Brother O'Maille, they have known each other a while and he needs comfort. Once that is done, we can use Thorun's fine map and come up with a route. Then prayers, supper and an early night. I want to be on our horses, heading out of town at first light. See you in an hour"
Once he has received acknowledgement, Ruadhán will head off to check on the horses, ensure they are brushed down, well fed and watered.
Daire turns to Ruadhán:
"Aye, I'll sort some grub for the road. Or the other world as you may."
He decides to get on it, no sense in going hungry later. He turns to the door and walks out of the church, seeking choice cuts of meat to stow for the journey.
Few will miss a bit of food at a feast!
Seeing Thorun take Sister Coblaith aside, Brother O'Maille pauses long enough to reassure Aoife. "Do not worry about me. I'll be fine. And you are right: I have seen enough darkness to know that death waits for no man."
When Ruadhan speaks up to direct the preparations, Brother O'Maille excuses himself. "Sister Cobhlaith, let us make ready?" Sorrowful, he looks at Aoife one last time and she is reminded of what she has always known deep in her heart: he loves me. Then she thinks of King Nial...
Brother O'Maille opens the doors to the church and then makes his way to the altar. There are preparations still to be made before the evening prayers can begin, and the sun is setting already.
Fintan, of course, remains, kneeling on the floor in the first pew, praying. His mother, Queen Dubhdara, arrives and kneels at his side. On her way in, she catches Daire on his way out.
"I assume that you are going north in the morning?" she speaks softly – a rhetorical question to which she does not wait for an answer. "I will expect you to tread lightly. The King of Breifne, to whom our people have sworn loyalty, has long been an enemy of the MacLochlain, and he would sooner hang the boys than guard them."
"I wish you well," she whispers in his ear, kissing his cheek.
Nial and Mael run in, followed by Padraic's wife, Brigitt. They kneel alongside Fintan and his mother. The queen greets the boys with affection and gently warns them to behave.
Aoife felt her heart ache and looked down, a bit of sadness and shame upon her face. She had plan to tell Fintan what King Nial had said, though she didn't believe anything would come of it. She didn't let herself hope for her own future anymore.
With the others coming in now Aoife doesn't stay long. She left and made her way to the kitchen to pack a few things as they where now leaving at dawn she had more time.
Thorun's chest tightens as his heart skips a beat. He is about to respond when Ruadhan shouts for him. "Let's talk about this later?" He inhales sharply through his nose, turning to the others. "Right, water. Let me know if you guys need help moving anything else around."
Ruadhán spends the hour preparing the horses for the following day. Although not much of a rider himself, he is used to caring for horses from his time serving in the fian. Although not a devout man and with his faith further damaged by the loss of his wife, the clear touch of God on Brother O'Maille have strengthened Ruadhán's belief and as such he arrives early for Vespers and spends some time praying.
Daire gets meat, and ropes others he knows into helping out, without giving away any details.
I'd best say a few prayers. We'll need all the help we can get!
He arrives on time for Vespers, more or less, hurriedly genuflects, and begins to pray quietly.
"Blessed be the Lord, my help, who trains my hands for battle, my fingers for war. The Lord is kindness and strength, my refuge and my liberator. He is my shield, and I trust in him – he places my people under his rule," Brother O'Maille recites, facing his flock. The church is bright with candles – more than have ever been lit in this church.
It must have cost a small fortune to buy so many, Sister Cobhlaith thinks as she assists the young priest.
The people of Largay have gathered in good numbers. With so many marching the circuit and so many more dead at the hands of Boho, these prayers are a balm for sad and wounded souls.
"The Lord is my stronghold and my saviour, alleluia." The gathering answers in kind: "Alleluia"
"These have been trying times," Brother O'Maille addresses his people, "but we cannot lose hope. As Christ taught us, death is an occasion to rise. Our kinsmen who have passed are in Heaven, and we must now continue proudly and prove to them, and to ourselves, that we have the courage and, more importantly, the faith to fulfill our Lord's will. Let us pray."
Brother O'Maille continues with prayers and intercessions, and the Vespers end with the setting sun. While many prefer to run out and enjoy the feast, some remain in the church to pray...
Now that pray time was over Aoife made sure everything she needed to get together was ready before heading back out to watch the festivities. She had changed out of her armor into the dress she commonly wore, and sat far away from everyone upon the grass watching.
After Vespers, Sister Cobhlaith, returns to her room, and makes sure all her belongings are ready for yet another journey.
Cobhlaith, I leave you the bandages and any healing things we might need if this gets ugly.
She smiles remembering the instructions.
When was she not ready with "healing things"? Did not Jesus say And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover..”
And in her studies with Mother Hildegard, she had gathered more knowledge, more potions, and even more herbs. Speaking of which...
Sister Cobhlaith straightens her wimple, and brushes the wrinkles out of her robe, and then hurries to find the steward.
"May I please have a bottle of wine?" she requests with her most demur smile and her eyes firmly in custody, head bowed.
==================================
After carefully stowing the wine and making the final adjustments to her pack, she returns to the church to say Compline, but rather than returning to her bed, she wanders out to watch the lighting of the fires.
What am I to think of the wonderous stories I've heard today?.
The veracity of the group was unquestionable, as was the solidness of the object in her hand.
But what is a Christian to make of the Otherworld, the talk of travel between realms, and portals to use for the journey? There is no logical answer
So Sister Cobhlaith watches as the horizon becomes sprinkled with fires, and then as the one at the top of their hill roars into glory.
And her emotions war in her breast, as do her thoughts in her all-too-logical mind.
After prayers, Daire will make his signs of the cross and rejoin the festivities.
The good lord has heard my prayers or he hasn't. Now to get one good night in!
He proceeds to make sure that the food is sorted for the morning, then resumes drinking and carousing with kin and friends.
Vespers completed, Ruadhán head out into the Beltane festival, it had always been part of tradition and he had always taken his cattle up to the fairy fort, when he could. This year however, it seemed of even greater import, what with all this talk of the Spear of Light and the supposed spirit world adventures that might be coming their way. Ruadhán pondered as he wandered between the fires and observed the rituals, did he really believe this was possible? Yet he had seen Brother O'Maille heal those who were desperately wounded, if it were possible in the name of Christ, might the myths and legends of magic be true too. Still, now was not the time to worry, if it happened well then he would know. Deciding to put his indecision and worry aside, Ruadhán drank from the offered skins, ate well at the feast and even jumped the flames with many of the others. Although that last one was as much to prove he was still young and agile, as it was for the protection of the spirits. Conscious of what lay ahead the next day, Ruadhán did not stay up too late, nor drink to insensibility, but headed for bed whilst the revelry continued, leaving a full cup and some choice cuts, by the door on his way to bed.
With all the fires in Tuaim extinguished, the night is perfectly black. Carrying a single torch, Fintan walks up the hill to the woodpile. With the cowl of his wolf pelt cloak pulled over his head, the massive man seems like some beast from a distant past. Centuries ago, before the coming of Saint-Patrick, kings would have walked up this very hill and lit the fire to usher in summer harvests… Without a word, Fintan lights the bonfire and the people of Tuaim cheer. The fire holds the promise of new hope and new life. The people of Largay sing, dance, feast, drink, and jump over the fire to purify themselves. While Aoife and Sister Cobhlaith watch from a distance, Ruadhan and Daire join in the festivities, and soon they drunk and happy, dancing and jumping over the fire along with everyone else.
All over Ireland, people are doing the same. The horizon is sprinkled with fires. All over Ireland, youths are hiding in the woods to consummate their love, and old couples are remembering that they were once young. Nobles and freemen and slaves are forgetting rank and reason, and, if only for a single night, all are equal in the eyes of God.
Before dawn, people take the flame from the bonfire to light their hearth and run their cattle through the dying fire, for good luck. And as the sun rises, all the people return to their beds, exhausted by a sleepless night, but perfectly happy. For Ruadhan, Daire, Thorun, Aoife, and Cobhlaith, there will be no rest. Tired, but driven by faith and hope and duty, their ride out of Tuaim. They head north towards Inishowen…
Aoife seemed to be eager to get moving. Even after the night of feasting and dancing and all, she was up and ready. While riding she remained closer to Thorun and Ruadhán than their newer companions. Around her old allies Aoife didn't have to act like the slave she was.... now things grew more complicated with Sister Cobhlaith and Daire. She knew little about either of them and only remember some stories about Daire her mother had mentioned with other slaves.
Sister Cobhlaith rises in time to say her dawn prayers, then checks to be sure her precious Bible is securely wrapped and stowed inside her bag of medical equipment and supplies.
She takes a bit of warm bread and fresh cool water to break her fast, then joins the others.
"Good morning!"
She looks around the group, trying to decide whether everyone is fit to travel, or whether they're suffering the effects of a sleepless night and too much celebration.
"At least the first part of the day looks fine for travel", she says as she looks at the rising sun.
Ruadhán has snatched a couple of hours sleep, but is awake in plenty of time to get ready to leave. It would seem he drank more than intended as he wakes with his head feeling a little foggy, but quickly dunking his head into the water butt by the stables helps clear his head. Arriving at the meeting point he checks with everyone that they have what they need. When Thorun arrives, Ruadhán is quick to pile up. "Thorun, where is the glorious map of yours? I remember little of the way."
Once happy with the route, as a scout Ruadhán is quick to take the lead and put his awareness to the test, riding ahead of the group, but checking back regularly.his darts always close at hand.
Thorun is already awake by the time the others rise, the crackling of fat sizzling filling the ears and noses of the party. Soon it fills their bellies as well, with Thorun presiding as the chef. "Eat up, we got a long day ahead o' us." He says with a cheery laugh, quite unlike the sulking attitude he had been putting on recently.
Daire yawns, stretches, and discreetly makes his way from the bed he found himself in.
A most enjoyable Beltane! Praise be to God!
He dresses swiftly and leaves early to meet the others, picking up travel rations sorted from the prior night.
By the time he meets the others, he is wide awake and ready for the day.
"A fine morning it is, and a fine Beltane it was! I hope you're all ready for our trip north.", he says merrily.
When Ruadhán speaks of a map, Daire's interest is piqued.
"Aye, Thorun, a look at that map might be handy! There are always a few trails and paths that are known only to a few and one can never know too many!"
Sister Cobhlaith, intrigued by a map, looks at Thorun.
"A map? What a precious document! May I see it?"
The King of Fermanagh answers to the King of Airghialla who is allied to the King of Breifne. Furthermore, while there has long been a blood feud between Largay and neighbouring Boho, the heroes have successfully brokered peace between the two petty kingdoms. That being said, there are likely many in Boho who still bear a grudge...
Recently, while marching the circuit, the King of Connaught and his allies gave Southern O'Neil to Aed O’Neil, and Northern O'Neil to Nial MacLochlain, Murtagh MacLochlain's brother. There is no love lost between the O'Neil and the MacLochlain.
King Aed O'Neil is a fat, lazy, and unpleasant man – and clearly, an able politician, having returned his clan to its former glory after over one hundred years of obscurity. He played a key part in the fall of the High King, convincing him to take the hostages that he would later mistreat, and turning his allies against him when he did.
King Nial MacLochlain is a gruff and aggressive man who always both feared and resented his brother. Some say that he has a secret alliance with Aed O'Neil...
The O'Doherty of Buncrana support Nial MacLochlain, but they aren't too happy about the division of the kingdom as they hate the O'Neil most of all.
The Bishop of Armagh, Amlaim Ua Muirethaig, is also Bishop of Derry. He played an instrumental role in the downfall of Murtagh MacLochlain, having brokered the peace with his enemies, arranged for hostages to be given, and called upon his allies and kin to turn against him when his mistreated said hostages.
Cobhlaith busies herself looking at the map.
Although she is having trouble aligning the symbols on the map with the world around her, she is already aware that Inishowen is a town with many monasteries.
"I'm not sure which way we should go, but once we get there St Chonas, St Mura, and St Baudan's monasteries are all in Inshowen" she says.
"We should find warm welcomes at the end of our journey."