"So, Brother Ó'Máille.... um, anything you want to get while we're here?" Aoife asked as she looked over to her old friend. He had been the only one who still remained after their tip to the past.
"Well, if it's not too much trouble, I would like to visit Saint-Patrick's Church. Perhaps we can gather some information there as well."
They find the camp quickly and soon find one of the king’s bards, to whom they address their query. They are told to return on the morrow. Frustrated, they make their way out of the camp, with the intent to set their own camp in the outskirts of Armagh and await the return of their companions, as agreed upon.
Brother O’Maille and Aoife make their way to Saint-Patrick’s Church to pay homage to Muircheartach MacLochlainn, along with countless mourners and pilgrims.
"The Hood, using the faith to make contracts of murder?" Aoife muttered a look of shock on her face as she looked over to Ó'Máille. "I may not be a fan of your faith Brother but even I find that low." She told him as they made their was through to Saint Patrick's Church. "Has your father ever been to this church Brother?" She asked.
Ó Máille furrows his brow in contemplation. "I don't remember my father telling about any visits to this church and I'm not sure what my feeling are on this 'Hood' organization." He rubs his temple, sighing heavily. "Over the past few years, I have felt more and more sympathy to those demanding reform in the church. Perhaps this 'Hood' is committing acts of crime, but maybe they are doing what they feel is right? This still doesn't answer why they want us dead, however..." His voice trails off as he weighs the situation.
"You're thinking too much on it." Aoife said with a small smirk as they walked together. "What do you believe should happen with the church?" She asked.
Starting at his name being called out, Ruadhán peers quizzically at the bear of a man, before recognition dawns with a beaming smile and he grabs Thorun's hand in a warrior's grip.
"Thorun? Is that you, hell man, you've grown! Are you still throwing yourself on the pointy ends of spears, or do you go round them now? Come, come introduce me to your friend and then let us go and find a cup of something. Hell, Thorun Madsen as I live and breathe. What in the beloved saint's name brings you here?"
"You were taller back then!" Thorun exclaims before introducing his companion: "Kassidy O'Kennedy, this is Ruadhán O'Neill. Ruadhan saved my life at the Battle of Móin Mhór, when I was a boy. He is a great man."
"We have no coin," he continues, "but if you're paying, I would love to share some mead and some stories!"
"Well I have only grown around the middle, so you must have been shorter. And as for great, ha, no I just got lucky that day." at this Ruadhán's eyes drift away momentarily, lost in thought And I paid for it later too "Still I'm sure I can stretch to a cup for an old friend, I got a good deal recently. You need to stop spending all your money on all that armour it just gets in the way and then will have a coin or two yourself. Mister O'Kennedy, forgive my manners, nice to meet you, come I found this great little place for a drink. "
Kassidy greets Ruadhan with a friendly smile, and the trio is off to a nearby tavern to enjoy a cup and a few tales.
The place is full of drunks. Most of them are from Aighialla, but there are many from Ulster, as well as from all across Ireland, who have come to mourn MacLochlain.
Kassidy, Thorun, and Ruadhan sit at a round table, and drink the monk's sweet mead.
"I think many members of church leadership have lost their true purpose. The winds of change are blowing, whether or not we're ready."
"Huh... didn't expect you to say that." Aoife said with a small smirk. "Why don't we head back to the others hmm?"
Kassidy, Thorun, and Ruadhan:
Knowledge Local
Knowledge Nobility
Kass nods to Ruadhán, "Well met. A friend of Thorun, especially one who saved his life so he could in turn save mine, is a friend I'd like to share more than one drink with!"
After they settle in to the Tavern Kass addresses Ruadhán, "We've only just arrived ourselves, tell me, what brings you here?"
"Oh, in the business of saving lives yourself are we now Thorun. About bloody time." Ruadhán jests at the man mountain, slapping on the shoulder to emphasise the joke.
"What brings me here, well these two feet of course!" and with a loud guffaw he continues "No, seriously, just delegation duty. My Re Tuaithe is here as part of our service to the O'Neill's and they in turn are here to stop those bloody Fermanagh warriors from causing trouble and sort an alliance or two. There is a lot of standing around looking pretty and a lot of sitting drinking and most definitely not brawling." he says this last with a wink. "What about you boys?"
"We're here to speak with the King of Fermanagh about some trouble in his lands," Thorun reveals without even considering the need for discretion.
Thorun tells the story of how the warriors of Boho attacked Largay in the cruelest manner, and how only he and Kassidy survived by the grace of God against all odds. He recounts how the two of them, along with only three proud heroes of Largay, then defeated a dozen warriors of Boho at the bloody Battle of Ross Lough. Of course, he spends most of his time describing how many men he himself killed...
The night continues thus, until the trio is quite drunk, and Ruadhan is quite broke. Late in the night, Ruadhan accompanies his new friends to their camp outside Armagh, to meet with their companions, Aoife and Brother O'Maille.
They find Brother O'Maille sleeping, and Aoife on watch...
On the ground lays a man dressed in simple brown robes. The only indication of his occupation is the small wooden cross hung around his neck. Even in his sleep, he maintains a firm grasp on the symbol of his faith. His age is difficult to determine. Though he possesses a full head of hair and stubbly beard with no trace of gray, his face appears worn and somewhat wrinkled.
"Hey turns out you can get a lot more done with a few people at yer back, you're the one who taught me that." He says with a grin.
Swaying in, his arms around the other two men, Ruadhán is none too quiet. A tall man, Ruadhán has a frame of lean muscle although a middle aged spread gives evidence of good living. A well worn saffron robe and a glib haircut mark Ruadhán as a kern warrior, but the red hair is now silvering round the temples and thinning on top. All these suggest a man slightly older than most in your party, at the age where most people have settled down. Currently too inebriated to be sad, Ruadhán can be noticed having moments of wistful daydreaming, a melancholy look crossing his face.
"This isn't my pit, my sleep roll is over the other side, ah balls, my robe will keep me warm enough tonight. See you in the morning you reprobates."
With which he finds a corner in which to wedge himself, pulls his robe up around him and drops quickly to sleep.
Aoife raised an eyebrow as the group that had split off from them returned with another, and drunk! "What in hell did you all do?" She asked as she stood from her spot she had been keeping watch at.
Her question goes mostly in answered as she notices the new comer drop down into a corner and falls asleep. Giving a long sigh Aoife snatches up her blanket and draped it over him. She made her way back to Thorun, points to his spot, and states. "Go sleep it off."
"Sleep it off? I haven't even gotten halfway to tha' point yet!" He roars with a laugh.
Aoife reached up, grabbed Thorun by the ear and quietly shushed him. "Others are sleeping." She reminded him as she let him go. "Please Thorun, go on to bed. I'll keep watch." She said as she offered the Northern man a kind smile.
Thorun finally goes to sleep, and Aoife is left alone to keep watch until morning. Thorun, Kassidy, and their friend Ruadhan sleep soundly, but Brother O’Maille’s rest is marred by nightmares. These last few weeks have been difficult for everyone, but perhaps most for him as war is often hardest on the best of men…
”You would be dead by now,” a man wearing a wooden mask states as a matter of fact, stepping out of the shadows. Aoife jumps, instinctively drawing her sword. ”But I did not come here to kill you,” he reassures her, raising his empty hands in the air as a sign of good faith. Over a dozen of his men – Abiodun is among them – are not far behind him, all with short bows and arrows drawn. Under normal circumstances, she and her companions would have had a fair chance. Now, with the others sleeping and most likely too drunk to put up a good fight, she cannot but admit to herself that the man is probably right. If he had wanted to kill them, he could have done so easily.
”Please,” he politely invites her to lower her blade.
Aoife lowered her blade, sitting back down and laying the weapon across her lap. "You're under contact to kill us and you wish to speak?" Aoife pointed out with a small smirk. She motioned for him to come and sit as well before letting out a sigh. "I take it Abiobun spoke with you about us?" She asked quietly so to not wake others.
The Green Man nods.
"He claims that you are good people," he explains. "I came here to decide for myself."
"You may awaken Brother O'Maille," he continues. As she does, surprisingly, he crosses himself and incants a prayer in Latin.
Aoife got up and sheathed her blade before she moved over to the brother and gently shook him away. "Sorry to wake you, but we've someone is here to speak with you." She whispered.
The young priest stirs quickly, as his sleep thus far has been mediocre at best. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he rises to a sitting position. He lets out a confused grunt and notices the crowd before him. Recognizing Abiobun, he smiles softly. "You must be the Green Man I've heard precious little about. It would seem God has delivered us into your hands this night, yet we are unharmed. What can I do for you?"
"Ad majorem Dei gloriam," the Green Man prays.
He allows Brother O'Maille a moment to compose himself before continuing.
"What are your views on the reforms that have been proposed by the Vatican?" the Green Man asks bluntly.
Then, he asks both O'Maille and Aoife: "and what would you sacrifice to end slavery in Ireland?"
"Not lives of those enslaved already." Aoife answered as glared at the Green man. It was obvious she hadn't forgotten his attempted assassination of her friends. "Besides, why would you care? Aren't you suppose to he killing us?"
Ó Máille places a hand on Aoife's shoulder once he stands. As he begins to answer the Green Man's question, his eyes grow sorrowful and he sighs heavily. "I fear for my brethren. I think we have strayed from God's intent for His people. Change is coming, I feel it. I know it. My worry is for the lives that will be lost in the name of tradition and pride."
"The Church of Ireland has become corrupt," the Green Man agrees, "and has lost its way. Simony is a plague in the priesthood. As you say, change is coming. It cannot be avoided. It can only be embraced."
"But what about marriage?" he asks Brother O'Maille, seeming to guess at his heart's desires. "Would you commit yourself to a life of celibacy?"
While Brother O'Maille considers his answer, the Green Man turns to Aoife, and responds to her accusation: "I care because I trust Abiodun, and he has told me that you treated him fairly, when by right you could have killed him."
"You would accuse me," he continues, "but have you never strayed into darkness, to serve the light? Have you never killed a man, to save your own people? We accept to do terrible things because people look to us for guidance and protection. The Hood has freed countless slaves. Now, The Hood must feed them."
"You have not answered my question: would you fight to end slavery in Ireland?
"I do not take contracts upon people I know nothing about." Aoife stated as she leaned foreword. "Not too long ago I cared for nothing save ensure meals where prepared properly and those I cared for where safe. Since then I've killed a total of one man. One. I was trying to pull him from his horse to surrender and he fell and broke his neck. I am no saint Green Man, but nor am I a murderer." She stated fiercely. "I won't lie. There are many times I wanted to kill someone because I knew it would make things easier. Or because they had slaughtered those from my home. But if gave into those feeling... no. I'd be no better than them because I would quickly lose the value of life." Aoife said before she sat back. "I would fight, but not the way you're fighting. The way you're fighting leaves a trail of blood so long I could cover Ireland. Tell me Green Man, what happens to the slaves your free who do not agree to kill for you or are too young or too old?"
The Green Man takes a moment to consider his answer.
"You are right," he admits with a sigh. "I have blood on my hands. More than I care to admit. But I have not forced this war upon any of these men. They were slaves. Now they are free. They can come and go as they wish, and so can their families. The problem is that there is nowhere for them to go. Perhaps they fight because they have no choice. But they do not fight for me. These men believe in the cause. They dream of a better life for their children."
"We should awaken your companions," he decides, approaching each of the sleeping drunks, and blessing each with a prayer: "Concede nos famulos tuos, quaesumus, Domine Deus, perpetua mentis et corporis sanitate."
"That's my point. They have no where to go, no way to earn a living to buy bread." Aoife stated with a simple shrug. "Do not get me wrong Green Man, slavery is a horribly thing and being a slave is terrible depending upon who owns you. But you do have a roof over your head and food in your stomach. Till you can give them both then all you're doing is taking them from one terrible situation and putting them in another." Aoife stood, weapon still in the sheath. "Let's say you freed all the slaves this way, now you have a mass of starving and untrained people. You can't get to them all, so as they're waiting their turn to learn a trade or get food three things will happen. One, they die of either starvation or for stealing food. Two, they get caught by raiders or others who are desperate and since they can't defend themselves they get taken and sold all over again. Or three, they will see someone else with what they need or want and turn to murder to take it." Aoife explained. "Your goals are admirable and if it hadn't been for the past few days... I would have joined you in a heartbeat. But I've seen people both at their best and at their worst... shall I tell you what I often see more of?" She asked. "If... you want advise on how to end slavery in Ireland, do it from within. Have slavery outlawed with a time of a few years so that you can train them as they are freed. It's going to he a long and slow process and you may never see the end of it... But it would be better than walking through rivers of blood." Aoife suggested.
"I-" Ó Máille stutters, avoiding the Green Man's gaze. "I have considered the proposed reforms regarding marriage. I think I would like to be a father one day, perhaps." He shrugs nervously quickly adding, "Not that this is the time to think of such things, what with Ireland's bounty of problems as of late."
"Also, that was a fool's question." Aoife said as she looked from the Green Man to Ó Máille. "God is love is he not? Then he exists in all forms of love. That between a mother and child, a father and child, and between husband and wife." She looked back to the Green Man. "To take that away would be to take away a part of God from their lives. If God brought another into their path for them to fall in love with and that gets put into place, then you have just ensured they never feel that part of God." After that Aoife sighed and crossed her arms. "Also no before you ask I don't have the answers to eveeything... I've just had to think about my place in this world recently." Aoife explained. She looked back to Ó Máille and, in hearing his nervousness, states "I believe you'd make a great father."
Ruadhán awakens quickly, coming straight to an alert state, his natural reflexes reasserting themselves as his inebriation fades.
"Wha', what just happened? I felt something, something good touch my soul and wake me. I remember next to nothing after coming through the door. And congratulations Father, did I just hear you are to be a father?"
Noting the tension in the room, Ruadhán scans, not committing to any action, he waits to see how Thorun and Kassidy react, but his hand strays to the dagger in his belt.
The Green man stands some distance away. "I mean you no harm," he reassures them all.
"The slavers will not willingly free their slaves," the Green Man states with confidence. Then, he turns to the others who are waking up.
"Wouldn't you agree?" he asks Thorun. Slaves have long been the spoils of war for the Danes who have never given up their traditions, even with the coming of Christ into these lands.
"There were four of you," he continues. "Now there are five. Ruadhán Ó'Brolacháin, is that you? How is it that you have joined with these warriors of Largay? Assuredly, you share their hatred of Fermanagh, but aren't the O'Neil negotiating peace with Aighialla?"
Aoife can't help but laugh at their new comer's words. "No he didn't become a father. I told him that I think he'd be a good father." She cleared up with a shake of the head.
"Slavers can't be slavers if there is no one to sell to." Aoife pointed out. "If Ireland outlaws slavery then we can focus more upon the raids that take our people without fighting each other as well." She said as she crossed her arms. "I'm not saying it is perfect Green Man, just better than cutting throats. Or putting an arrow into someones thigh." Aoife said as she turned and look at Abiobun with a slight glare.
"I agree with you," the Green Man answers, surprisingly. "Slavery must be abolished. But we disagree on the means. I believe that we must fight. You would avoid bloodshed. It is much to your honour... Abiodun couldn't tell me your surname. Who are your parents?" he asks. It is a question that seems to haunt Aoife wherever she goes.
"I was told that four warriors would be travelling from Tuaim to Armagh," he continues, addressing them all, "but I was not told to what ends. What brings you here?"
The young priest stares, stunned by by Aoife's words.
"Y-you do?" he mumbles. He doesn't appear to have paid much attention to the past few moments of conversation.
"My mother was Hywela FitzStephen." Aoife answered. "I'm a bastard so I have my mother's name." She added with a simple shrug.
"Yes Ó Máille I do. I believe you would treat them well and that they would grow up knowing love and kindness and would pass that on to others." Aoife explained as she smiled at him.
Thorun wakes up quickly, grabbing his dagger and leaping to his feet. After he sees everybody calm he growls and sits down. "Aye. Only one way to free a slave, that's through blood."
"No It isn't." Aoife said with a shake of her head. "Tis But the easiest way. The easiest is not always the right way. In fact often it is the wrong way, causing the most damage and the littlest good. Violence for the sake of good, no matter how good, is only ever temporary. Yet the evil is does lasts forever. I could have opened Sean's throat. I had all right to. But I chose to lead him to a place for seek forgiveness. That doesn't change that with a swing of my blade I could have ended his family completely. What good would that truly do?" Aoife asked as she crossed her arms. "Kill all the slavers and more will just come. They will see rivals cut down and know the pickings are good. But make it to where they cannot profit from selling a person, well... they'll leave faster than you think." She shrugged. "You worry about invaders from over the waves but no matter how free Ireland is they will always be there. They will always come to take our people and sell them else where, but if we stand United against them then they'll find it far more difficult each time till it is no longer worth the trouble."
"The English and the Vatican want to end slavery," the Green Man argues. "It is outlawed in England, as it is in Rome. Perhaps we should let them come? Perhaps they will achieve what we cannot?