‘One more question, since you come from Canterbury. Did you ever meet the Venerable Victricius of Palestrina there?’
Brother Bosa’s reaction was immediate. ‘The
Venerable
Victricius?’ he gasped.
‘So you do know him?’
Brother Bosa was staring at him with suspicion moulding his features. ‘Is he here?’ he demanded slowly, adding: ‘He was the elderly man mentioned by Bishop Arwald.’
Eadulf decided to stick to the truth. ‘We had a report that such a man was attacked and killed on the river just south of here.’
‘Who attacked him?’ demanded the scribe in a fierce tone.
‘Bandits,’ replied Eadulf.
‘Bandits?’ There was dismay in his expression. ‘He was robbed? Were his belongings taken?’
‘The bandits took what they did not destroy,’ Eadulf said, being frugal with the truth. ‘You knew him then? We understood he was a senior cleric from Canterbury.’
Eadulf was not prepared for the man’s next response. Brother Bosa began to chuckle and then quickly regained his composure. ‘I knew of a man named Victricius in Canterbury, but he was neither a senior cleric nor anyone who would be entitled to such a prefix to his name. I am not even sure he was entitled to the name Victricius either.’
Eadulf tried to suppress the uneasiness that was welling in him. ‘Who was he then, this Venerable Victricius?’ he asked quietly.
‘I suppose he could pass as a “venerable”,’ sneered Brother Bosa. ‘He was old enough. When I saw him in Canterbury, he was tied to a whipping post and being flogged.’
‘What had he done?’ Eadulf closed his eyes for a moment, remembering Gormán’s description of the healed lacerations on the back of the corpse.
‘When I saw him he also wore a tonsure – the tonsure of Rome. He was passing himself off as a religious. I doubt that he was one. He was certainly a thief. He had stolen gold and silver plate from the new Abbey of Menstre – and was lucky not to be hanged. He was saved because he managed to convince the Princess that he was a Roman.’
‘Menstre? Princess?’ Eadulf was unable to hide his ignorance.
‘Last year, the Princess Domneva, of the Royal House of Kent, became abbess of a foundation that she set up near Ypwines fleot, which is now called Menstre, the monastery. She caught this thief and sent him to Egbert at Canterbury for punishment. He was a thief, not a “venerable” of the Church. Are you sure that he and his party are dead? Are you quite certain that his belongings were stolen?’
The eagerness in the scribe’s voice put Eadulf on the alert.
‘I am told that a band of outlaws attacked the boat he had hired to bring him upriver. His boatmen were killed and his belongings were taken or destroyed.’ Eadulf made no reference to Egric.
Returning to his chambers, Eadulf had barely finished relating the conversation to Fidelma when there was a tap on their door and one of the King’s young attendants stood framed quivering in the portal.
‘The King requests your immediate attendance in his council chamber,’ the young boy intoned breathlessly to Fidelma.
‘My attendance?’ asked Fidelma.
‘Both of you, lady, if it please you,’ the boy stammered, before turning and hurrying off.
Fidelma and Eadulf exchanged a glance.
‘Now what?’ Eadulf wondered.
When they reached Colgú’s council chamber, they found not only the King but Abbot Ségdae with Brother Madagan. Gormán was on guard outside the doors and showed them in.
Colgú glanced up with relief as they entered. ‘I have need of both your talents,’ he greeted them shortly.
‘What has suddenly caused this?’ Fidelma asked, taking the seat her brother had indicated.
‘It seems our friend Eadulf has spoken to Brother Bosa and prompted a response from the Venerable Verax.’
‘I have?’ Eadulf was startled.
‘As I understand it, you were trying to find out some information from Brother Bosa.’ Colgú raised his hand as Eadulf was about to justify himself. ‘Brother Bosa must have passed this on to his masters. So I think your questions have produced a result.’
Fidelma bent close to Eadulf: ‘I suspect it was your news about Victricius,’ she whispered.
‘The Venerable Verax has sent a message to me saying he now appreciates our concerns at wanting to know the purpose of this visit,’ Colgú said. ‘He is prepared to explain things.’
‘He is
prepared
?’ Abbot Ségdae echoed disdainfully.
‘He has offered to go through it before the meal begins, for a welcome feast would not be the correct place to discuss such matters. He has said that he personally will explain it to me and my bishop, meaning Ségdae here and his steward. I have said that I cannot accept this unless my legal adviser and my adviser on the Saxon matters are also in attendance. That is you, Fidelma, and Eadulf.’
‘He agreed?’ asked Fidelma with surprise.
‘He agreed,’ confirmed her brother.
‘Then by all means, let us hear what the Venerable Verax has to say,’ Fidelma urged. ‘Then we can alleviate some of the tension for tonight.’
Gormán was sent to inform the Venerable Verax that they were ready. The warrior left and returned in hardly any time, escorting the austere figure of the Venerable Verax of Segni. The prelate’s glance encompassed the assembly before coming to rest on the face of the King.
‘You may be seated, Venerable Verax.’ Colgu motioned to a chair. ‘You have come to volunteer the reasons why your party has come here to Cashel?’
‘I have, and you will pardon our initial reticence as we are strangers in a strange land and were much perturbed by the killing of our emissary, Brother Cerdic, while under your protection in this palace.’
Colgú shifted uncomfortably. ‘I have assured you that this death is being investigated and when the culprit is found, they will be subject to our laws and punishment.’
‘I now understand this.’
‘So, what is the purpose of your coming here?’
The Venerable Verax considered for a moment. ‘Let me tell you in my own way.’
‘Then let us all be seated,’ the King invited with a gesture of his hand.
After everyone was seated, the Venerable Verax leaned back and cleared his throat for a moment. ‘There have, as you know, been many problems in Christendom. One of these problems concerns the spreading of the true word of the Faith to the far reaches of the earth. Certain people believe that they alone have the true interpretation of that word.’
Abbot Sédgae spoke up at this point to say: ‘So far as we know, Rome has held many councils at which new interpretations of the Faith and new teachings have been offered. We here, in the west, maintain the Faith as it was originally brought to us.’
The Venerable Verax was equal to this. ‘The Faith was first brought to you by whom? I can name a dozen different interpretations that were being taught – Donatism, Pelagianism, Iconoclasm, Priscillianism, Arianism . . . Oh, the list is endless. It is Rome’s ambition that all these different interpretations may one day be united.’
‘Under Rome,’ muttered Abbot Ségdae, quietly but audibly, ‘And how will Rome succeed in this? There are many who claim to be of the Faith, who believe in the teachings of Jesus. Yet some say he was just a man who adopted the title “Son of God”, meaning that we are
all
the children of God.’
‘That teaching was condemned by the Council of Antioch many years ago,’ stated the Venerable Verax.
‘Then there are many who say that they believe Jesus was a man – but that his soul was divine.’
‘And
that
was condemned by the Council at Constantinople.’
‘Arius claimed that the title “Son of God” was merely a courtesy.’
‘Arian has also been condemned,’ sighed the Venerable Verax. ‘Many coming to the Faith have not been able to understand how Jesus could be both human
and
divine.’
‘At the moment, Rome accepts that Jesus had two natures but one will.’ Abbot Ségdae spoke out clearly.
‘My brother, the Bishop of Rome, like many of us, is working towards changing that mistaken teaching as well.’
‘With respect, these arguments are subjects for the scholars of the Faith to debate,’ Colgú intervened. ‘Such arguments are surely not your purpose in coming here. Let it suffice to acknowledge that the Faith is not united and never has been. When it was first brought to this island, we were told that Jesus was fully divine; soon afterwards, we began to hear that not everyone – even in Rome – accepted that. Such debates are held regularly to consider this interpretation or another one.’
‘And now we must change,’ Venerable Verax said aloofly.
‘And you are here to preach that new change?’ Colgú asked, perplexed.
The elderly prelate hesitated and shook his head.
‘We are informed that this island contains Five Kingdoms. In these kingdoms, I am told, are many bishops. Bishops like yourself, Ségdae of Imleach. Each bishop seeks power over his territory.’
Abbot Ségdae glanced at Colgú before responding. ‘We do not see it in those terms,’ he said. ‘I have already told you that abbots are more powerful than a bishop, for the kings and princes of the territory grant lands to the abbeys, and the abbots and abbesses are often of the same royal blood as those kings and princes. The abbots and abbesses are elected to their office by their
derbhfine
– that is, the family within the abbeys. Among us, sons often succeed family members, but
only
if they are worthy. Daughters become abbesses in place of their mothers. We believe in the family.’
The Venerable Verax grimaced, not trying to hide his distaste. ‘Many of us believe that only in celibacy can we of the Faith serve God completely and without distraction.’
‘A curious notion, but we will not debate it. We find Rome often preaches many notions that are alien to our understanding of life,’ Fidelma said briskly. ‘I believe Brother Eadulf has discussed that very topic with your Brother Bosa.’
Abbot Ségdae saw an opportunity to speak on a favourite subject. ‘Here, we believe that men and woman are responsible for all their acts – whether they be good or evil. We are all capable of redemption. Yet I have heard that Rome now believes in the teaching of Augustine of Hippo, who declared that the original sin of Adam and Eve, at the beginning of time, tainted human nature, and from that time we were all condemned, each and every one of us. Only God knew who He would consign to Heaven or to Hell. Rome believes that no matter what a person does in their life, no matter how good
or
how evil, they are already condemned. We find that a curious and disturbing belief.’
The Venerable Verax’s face had become blotched with red. ‘We know that you are misled by the teachings of Pelagius. His heresy has long been declared at Rome.’
‘Pelagius, in stating that we are all capable of choosing between good and evil and saving our own souls, was merely echoing what we all believe. Augustine’s teaching imperils moral law, and, above all things, we believe in law in this land. If we follow his logic then we have permission to indulge freely in evil because, whatever crimes we commit, Augustine says that we have no chance of redemption, or choice between Heaven and Hell. It has already been decided.’
‘God has infinite knowledge. Whatever we do, our future is ordained. Pelagius has been condemned,’ burst out the Venerable Verax.
‘Zosimus, Bishop of Rome, supported Pelagius – but when Augustine and his friends applied political pressure, he was
forced
to declare Pelagius’ teachings heretical,’ Abbot Ségdae replied steadily.
‘Indeed, his teachings were declared heretical – but here in these western fastnesses you still cling to his heresy!’ The elderly prelate was getting really angry now.
Colgú himself was also clearly annoyed with the direction of the exchange. ‘I was not aware that I had called another council to discuss aspects of the Faith. I repeat: is this why you are here, Venerable Verax? If so, a proper council should have been summoned by the abbots and bishops involved. This is a matter for ecclesiastics and not for kings.’
Venerable Verax collected himself and said more calmly, ‘My apologies. The Bishop of Rome is concerned that these western reaches are without a strong guidance as to the Faith. He was inclined to support the argument that the Archbishop of Canterbury might extend his authority over all the abbots and bishops of this island in order to secure some form of religious conformity. The reason we are here is to gather information as to whether that would be acceptable, or whether there is some alternative.’
The silent response was one of astonishment at the suggestion. Then Abbot Ségdae said slowly: ‘There are too many differences in the paths chosen by our churches and among our people to take that proposition seriously.’
Even Eadulf was utterly surprised at the suggestion and felt he should contribute. ‘Canterbury does not even exert religious authority over all the kingdoms of the Angles and Saxons,’ he spoke up, ‘let alone the kingdoms of the Britons in the west and the kingdoms of the Cruthin and Dál Riadans in the north. The Bishop of Rome is either not well informed or has been misled by his advisers.’
A look of annoyance crossed the Venerable Verax’s features. He seemed about to say something in retort but then smiled thinly and said, ‘What is the purpose of seeking information, other than to see how such a proposal would be received?’
‘And this is why you are here?’ Colgú demanded, still disbelieving. ‘To see how we would react to such a proposal? Then you can be assured that we, in the Kingdom of Muman, would be united
against
any such idea. I am sure that you will have heard similar opposition when you were in the Kingdom of Laighin.’
‘Yet we have also heard that there are some prelates of these kingdoms who wish to see an Archbishop preside over all the abbots and bishops here,’ replied Venerable Verax.
Abbot Ségdae grunted, and said dismissively, ‘We are aware that for some time the abbots at Ard Macha have tried to claim themselves to be the heirs of Patricius, and further, claim that he was the first to preach the Faith among the Five Kingdoms. Therefore, they argue they should be senior in rank to all other cleries on this island.’