The sun is setting beyond Drongawn Lough when they arrive in Fahan after a long day's march. They find St-Mura's monastery in the outskirts of the small village, at the top of the hill. The dirt path that runs down to the shore is clear. Fahan is remarkably quiet... Only the prayers of the monks, which echo from inside the church, and the dim sound of cattle in the distance evidence that the village is, in fact, inhabited.
"Deus, in adiutorium meum intende. Domine, ad adiuvandum me festina. Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio, et nunc et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. Amen. Alleluia.
Manifestly, the monks are performing vespers.
Daire cocks his ear briefly, then waves a hand to halt the others.
Quietly, he adds:
"They have only just begun Vespers. Barging in now would be rude and there's no need for it. We can wait out here for a spell if we must."
"Sounds fine enough." Aoife said with a simple roll of her shoulders. In the meantime however she made her way to Thorun's side. "Do you have a moment?" She asked more quietly.
Sister Cobhlaith's lips move in synchrony with the words floating over the evening air.
She dismounts, and kneels in the grass at the edge of the road as she follows the familiar service, her heart at peace after the days without the fellowship of other religieux.
"Hmm?" Thorun looks down at Aoife, then glances at the others and lowers his voice. "Sure." Thorun walks off a bit with Aoife out of earshot of the others.
"What's on yer mind?"
Ruadhán throws himself on the ground when the group stop and enjoys the rest. He has never been that religious but there is something magical about the familiar sound of prayers rising from the holy place at the setting of the sun. He sits and enjoys this rare moment of peace.
Daire leans against a nearby wall, soaking in the sunlight and the pleasant sounds.
Now out of range of the rest of looks to Thorun. "Are you alright?" She asked bluntly. She knew Thorun wasn't one to fancy words to anything that would waist his time. "You've been more distance the normal, ever since we had that old woman read the needles." She pointed out as she crossed her arms. "Yes, I noticed. I may not be as wise as many here but I do tend to notice changes in those I call friend."
A novice opens the doors and, seeing the strangers, rushes back inside to fetch the abbot. A middle-aged man with a pleasant smile soon greets them.
”Welcome to St-Mura's monastery. I am Brother Cianan,” he introduces himself, bowing his head. He takes a moment to offer a welcoming smile to Sister Cobhlaith.”These are Brother Patrick, our Almoner, and Brother Francis, our Hosteller.” The first is a small, mousy fellow. The second is tall and dour-looking. They prostrate themselves to show humility.
"God bless you all, my children. Come," Brother Cianan leads them all inside without even waiting for them to introduce themselves. His tone is both pleasant and authoritative. This is a good man who is accustomed to leading. They reach the calefactory and he invites them to kneel near the fire and pray. The brothers pray as well, and afterwards Brother Cianan reads the Holy Scripture for all to hear. His voice is beautiful, full of both passion and gravitas.
Then, they are brought a hardy barley soup and black bread. The brothers fast as their guests sit and eat.
"Please share with us your stories. Where do you come from and what brings you to Fahan?" Brother Cianan finally inquires.
Sister Cobhlaith smiles, a contented look on her face.
"We are traveling to Inshowen. This is my escort, and we have had some rough weather. I am so grateful to reach a sanctuary such as this, with a roof over our heads, and a warm fire.
"May we contribute to your alms box so that you can continue to help those less fortunate and give them the same hospitality you have offered us?"
She reaches for the pouch at her belt, and finds a silver piece.
"I am Sister Cobhlaith of Kildare. I have been tasked to help set up a scriptorium at St. Fethlimidh's Church in Kilmore.
"When I arrived, the locals had just discovered that a young man had left on his own to try to reach Inishowen, as impetuous as that might sound.
"The son of the local lord tasked us with traveling north to try to find him and coax him to return. I was asked to travel with the group to ensure their health. Of course, I personally wanted to ask wiser folks than I about the problems of setting up a scriptorium. Is there someone here I could talk to?"
Daire tucks into the soup and bread with gusto.
After devouring the food, he gratefully turns to Cianan:
"Brother, the skill in the kitchens of Fahan is not lacking!"
Wiping his mouth, he continues:
"I am Daire, escorting the good Sister. As she says, there is a young man off north by himself. We would find him before any harm comes to him."
"Your generosity is a blessing." Brother Cianan accepts the coin, which is a most generous gift.
"If you wish to learn about scriptoriums, you should visit St-Baudan's. The precentor there is a good man and a true artist."
"I am afraid that our simple abbey is not what it once was," the abbot admits despite himself. "Our numbers are dwindling and our days are spent tending to the fields, reading, and praying. We have little time to dedicate to writing. And little means to acquire the necessary materials."
He sighs and then brightens. He rushes out of the calefactory and returns only a moment later with an ancient book. Carefully, he hands it to Sister Cobhlaith. "This is the Cathach of St. Columba – the very psalter, which caused the Battle of Cúl Dreimhne." The book is ancient and delicate. It is simply decorated, but beautiful nevertheless.
Daire looks over the book with genuine interest.
"That is truly beautiful work, good Brother!"
When they have finished eating, Brother Cianan himself proceeds to wash their hands.
"Would you care to read to us?" the abbot asks Sister Cobhlaith while Brother Patrick and a few novices wash their guests' feet.
Sister Cobhlaith's eyes widen as she reaches for the book. She then pulls back her hands and makes the sign of the cross.
"I am not worthy!"
Her scholarly instincts win out, however, and she reaches out again.
"Are there passages that you would especially like to hear? I love to read aloud, and would be most grateful for a chance to read from this most precious manuscript."
She turns to Aoife.
"I think your help is needed in the kitchen," she says trying to convey to Aoife that scullery talk might give them far more information than her listening to Cobhlaith read.
Aoife gave a small nod to Cobhlaith as she stood and silently thanked her luck. She felt totally out of place here and welcomed the familiar sight of a kitchen. Though she kept her ears open.
Daire enjoys the reading, but makes a point of keeping an eye on the reactions of the audience.
While Sister Cobhlaith and the others enjoy the fire in the calefactory, Aoife finds her way through the cold halls of the monastery to the warmth of the kitchen...
Listening in on the monks' conversation, she hears only common gossip. Either the monks are censoring themselves on account of her presence, or they have nothing to say of particular importance.
Brother Cianan suggests psalm 31, his favourite.
"In you, Lord, I have taken refuge; let me never be put to shame; deliver me in your righteousness," Sister Cobhlaith begins. The monks enjoy her clear voice and solemn tone, and seem more than happy to simply listen...
"Brother Cianan, may I be allowed to place this precious relic of St Columba in its cumbach? "
So she simply goes about the task she had been given and helped out any time they needed a bit more strength to move things.
He seems surprised when Sister Cobhlaith speaks of the cumbach. "Of course," he responds, standing and inviting her to follow him out of the calefactory. "It is in the library," he explains.
Thorun, Ruadhan, and Daire are left in the care of the dour-looking Brother Francis, the Hosteller. Quietly, the monk leads each of the men to a small, simple room with a bed and a cross on the door. "I will be in the kitchen if you need anything," he informs them before leaving.
Daire looks at Thorun and Ruadhan.
"So, what do you think? Did either of ye see anything amiss?"
It's a welcome change from the hardship of days past, and likely no more than a momentary respite given that they will soon be travelling into a nest of intrigue.
Daire shakes his head.
"I say they're honest and simple. Any trouble here is that we bring ourselves."
"How frequently do you host visitors? I would expect that Abbot McRoarty sees Bishop Ua Cobthaig fairly often.
"And The O'Donnell must consult him as well.
She tries to probe gently to see who might have been here recently
"When I was a very small child, I was taken to the Synod at Kells. I remember reading for the Bishop of Kells, much as I did for you this evening.
"It was at that time that I was commended to Kildare for further learning."
"You know our history," Father Cianan comments, pleased. Then, he sighs. "We so rarely receive visitors, let alone educated ones. His Excellency, the Bishop of Derry, has not payed much attention to our monastery for years – understandably, as he long counselled our High King, and now he offers same counsel to his brother."
There is sadness in his tone when he speaks of the fallen Murtagh MacLochalin, and more sadness still when he refers to King Nial MacLochlain.
"As for my O'Donnel kinsmen, they call upon us to join the march with the Cathach when needed, but otherwise they pay us little heed."
In the library, he invites Sister Cobhlaith to herself set the ancient book in its jewelled case, trusting that she will do so carefully, with all the appropriate reverence.
The Abbot or Abbess of an abbey or monastery would be address as "Abbot FirstName" or "Reverend Father". The woman might instead be the Mother Superior, in which case she would be address as "Mother FirstName" or "Reverend Mother". These titles are mostly dependent on which order was running the establishment, or local custom.
The Prior or Prioress would also be addressed with their honorific, "Prioress FirstName".
Informally, you might address the Prior or the Abbot as "Father FirstName", since theoretically, they were ordained priests and not just monks.
Everyone else would be "Sister" or "Brother" FirstName. Except for ordained priests, who would be, instead, "Father FirstName" .
Further up in the hierarchy, bishops and archbishops would be address as "Honorific LastName" or "Your Excellency" as well. But popes and saints are "Honorific FirstName"
I'm trying to find documentation for when a Father is "Father LastName" and when they are "Father FirstName". So far there's no rules, just whatever the priest wants. And often it's a matter of convenience: First names when two priests share a last name, and last names when two priests share a first name.
ETA:
Even the most prickly nuns don't have any scriptural or historic rules to quote. The only thing I can find is that it is more "respectful" to use last names for a priest.
If I have time, I might go through some of the translations of the Annals of the Four Masters, and see if I can discern a trend.
She turns to Abbot Cianan and eyes him speculatively.
"Reverend Father, I am in need of your guidance.
"I was going to tell you this under the seal of confession, but I believe you are trustworthy. I beg of you, do not share this information with anyone you cannot vouch for personally. The lives of three children depend on continued secrecy.
"In some manner that I do not understand, three sons of Muirchertach Mac Lochlainn were given in care to Fintan of Largay, whose father is marching the circuit with the King of Connacht.
"I was charged with taking word to Largay of the serious illness of Father O'Maille whose son is a monk there. When I arrived, I found that the eldest Mac Lochlainn son, Conchobar, had run away to Tyrone to reclaim his father's kingdom from his uncle Nial.
"Fintan had sent a tracker north to try to find young Conchobar but nothing has been heard of either of them for more than a week.
"Do you know of any whispers of what might have happened to the lad? He and his brothers seem to believe there are many among the Cenél nEógain who will stand by them."
Sister Cobhlaith gives a rueful shake of her head. "I'm sure just as many would remove him from contention swiftly and silently.
"In any event, this group has been sent by Fintan to find the boy and bring him safely back to his brothers. He is just 15 and impetuous, as many young men are at that age.
"Have you any information or advice that would make that possible in the most peaceful way?"
"I certainly would not want to bring harm to the sons of MacLochlainn," the abbot reassures Sister Cobhlaith. "My kinsmen have long been loyal to his clan."
"I heard rumours that young Conchobar very recently returned to Inishowen," he continues. "But I have heard nothing about a tracker from Largay."
"There are undoubtedly many who will stand with the boy. His uncle is not unanimously popular. Likely, Conchobar's return is why King Nial has called the warriors of the kingdom to Derry," Father Cianan conjectures, sadly. "If the Ulstermen are preparing for war, you may find it difficult to pry the boy away from his kinsmen. After all, his father was not much older than he is now when he became king."
"War is not the answer," she says.
"Our ancient laws still supply us with better answers than bloodshed. But not all see that, and they never have."
She sighs.
"I appreciate your advice. Should Paidric of Largay, or even young Conchobar himself come within your ken, let them know we are trying to keep the peace and resolve this in the best way possible for the young man."
She frowns, and then her face lights up.
"By your leave, I would respond to the bells for the hours and worship with you and the brothers here tonight. To be in community with others, even for one night, would be most helpful to my outlook and to my soul.
"I'm afraid my patience and serenity will be sorely tested while we accomplish this task."
She joins the monks for Matins and Lauds and rejoins her companions after Prime. She is tired but the night's prayers have nourished her soul and she is ready to embark anew on this trying quest.
In the morning, Ruadhan, Daire, Thorun, Aoife and Sister Cobhlaith bid their host goodbye. They are given fresh supplies – warm bread, spring fruit, and delicious hard cheese – and Father Cianan whispers sound advice: "You may want to avoid the coast. Buncrana is just north of here and the O'Doherty are loyal to King Nial."
"A thousand thank you' for your hospitality and your advice, Father."
Daire says before the group gets going.
Out of earshot, he says to the others:
"Perhaps not Buncrana then."
Sister Cobhlaith smiles sweetly at Father Cianan.
"Thank you for your blessings, your gifts, and your advice. God be with you."
She turns to Thorun.
"Thorun, let's take a look at your map and see where we can turn inland before we get to Buncrana."
She frowns. "This makes no sense."
She spends several minutes turning the map in her hands, looking up at the hills and ocean and then back to the map. Frustrated, she hands the map back to Thorun.
Daire takes a gawk at the map.
And taps on a spot.
"We are here."
And traces the fingertip along a route:
"And this way brings us away from Buncrana."
"Why are we avoiding this area?" Aoife asked as she looked over their shoulder.
"Father Cianan says that the folks there are loyal to King Nial.
"They'd have no use for our sort, and it's probably best to avoid them until we find out more about where Conchobar has gotten himself to.
"I certainly hope Paidric has found the lad and removed him from danger."
"Which King Nial?" Aoife asked as she rubbed the back of her neck. Though she was fairly sure it wasn't the Nial she knew.
"The boys' uncle. King Nial of the Cenél nEógain, whose seat is at Inishowen.
"I'm hoping we find Paidric before we need to enter Inishowen, because if we don't, we're all likely to become hostages. Recent hostages of the Mac Lochlainns have not fared very well."
Sister Cobhlaith shudders at the memory of the treachery of Muircheartach Mac Lochlainn.
Studying Thorun's map, Daire realizes that the path he is suggesting, which avoids Buncrana, could lead them into the very wetlands that they had hoped to avoid...
"Ah. We're stuck between the bogs and the coasts."
"Helps if you hold the map the right side up." Thorun points out with a cheeky grin.
"Mhmm, we should brave the dangers of the wild before the dangers of man."
"That would be the stain.", Daire retorts with a wink.
"The bog is sounding better with that view."