A Prayer for the Damned Read Online Free PDF Page A

happened since we last raised a mug of ale together, my friend.’ He turned swiftly back to the other religious, who had risen uncertainly. ‘Do you recall my young brothers, Pecanum and Naovan? And yonder sits my father, Ordwulf, who has journeyed here with us. But you would not know him.’
    Eadulf regarded Brother Berrihert in slight bewilderment. ‘I thought you were all in Northumbria. When was it that I last saw you?’
    ‘At the great Council of Witebia.’ The religieux smiled, turning and waving his brothers to come forward. Eadulf greeted them by name, shaking their hands. Only the old man continued to sit stiffly by himself, as if ignoring them.
    ‘A fateful council,’ added the youngest of the three, whose Latin name, Eadulf recalled, indicated someone without fault. It was at the Council of Witebia that King Oswy of Northumbria had decided in favour of the usages and teachings of the Roman Church as opposed to the rites and practices of the Irish who had originally converted the pagan Angles and Saxons to the new faith.
    ‘A fateful council?’ Eadulf repeated. He had been one of those who had supported the ideas from Rome, although these last few years, living in the land of Éireann, he had had second thoughts about that decision. ‘So you disagreed with the ruling of Oswy?’
    Brother Berrihert nodded.
    ‘Is that what brought you here?’
    ‘It is a long story.’
    They had been speaking in Saxon and now Miach came forward.
    ‘Do I presume that you recognise these Saxon brothers, Brother Eadulf?’ he asked in his own language.
    ‘Indeed I do.’ Eadulf frowned. ‘Is there something wrong?’
    ‘You identify them as … ?’
    ‘Why, this is Brother Berrihert of Northumbria and his two brothers – brothers by blood as well as in the faith – Pecanum and Naovan. I knew them when I was attending the great council at the abbey of Hilda.’
    ‘And the elderly one?’
    ‘I know him not. But Brother Berrihert tells me that it is his father.’
    ‘My father’s name is Ordwulf,’ intervened Berrihert, obviously able to speak the language.
    ‘Is there something wrong?’ Eadulf repeated.
    Miach waved his hand in dismissal. ‘I wanted to be sure as to their identity. They claimed that they knew you so I took the liberty of seeking confirmation. They have come seeking
comairce
in my territory.’
    ‘Asylum?’
    Miach smiled briefly. ‘They wish to dwell here in the great glen among my people, under my protection. Indeed, even to build their own church here. These have been difficult times. It seems but a short time ago that not far from here we fought the great battle of Cnoc Áine. I think you know well that outsiders must be accountable. I would have you hear their story. Let us move to the fire and refresh ourselves while Brother Berrihert tells it.’
    The young guide took care of their horses, and as they moved forward to the fire Eadulf introduced Caol to the Saxon brothers. Eadulf was then introduced to Ordwulf, although the elderly man seemed unfriendly and uncommunicative, which Eadulf ascribed to his lack of knowledge of the language of Éireann. Berrihert explained that the old man had been a warrior in his youth, a thane of Deira. His sons had brought him with them, as there was no one else in the family to look after him. Once they had seated themselves round the fire and mugs of foaming mead were brought, Berrihert began his story.
    ‘It is true, Brother Eadulf. We do seek permission to settle in this valley.’ He smiled quickly and added, ‘I now speak the language of this land, as do my brothers. Our father’s knowledge is imperfect but I will tell the tale so that Miach, our host, and his men will know it is the same as I have already told them.’
    He paused for a moment as if to gather his thoughts before continuing.
    ‘When King Oswy announced that he would follow the teachings of Rome, there was great consternation among the congregations in Northumbria. Abbot Colmán of