Peter Tremayne - The Leper's bell

The king smiled, a little sadly. ‘You have good intentions. But again, I am not commenting, merely pointing out things that you should both be aware of. And there is something else.’

‘Something else?’ Eadulf mused cynically. ‘I thought that we had enough to be meditating on.’

‘It will not have escaped your notice that, apart from the considerations of nationality, you are both members of the religious. You have decided to pursue your talents primarily in the service of the New Faith. It was not so long ago that all our learned folk, whether judges, lawyers, bards or physicians, were accepted among the orders of druids. We accept that the New Faith has replaced the druids in most corners of the five kingdoms. Now, those following the New Faith do so without diminishing their personal lives. We accept that, like the druids before them, the religious of the New Faith can marry and bear children. There are mixed houses. You, Fidelma, were trained in the conhospitae of Kildare, the double-house founded by Abbess Brigid and Bishop Conlaed.’

Fidelma frowned. ‘What are you trying to say, Colchú? Have you been converted by this new movement within the religious that argues that those who serve Christ should not be married nor consort with others of the opposite sex? Not even the Bishop of Rome has agreed that this should be a dogma of the Faith. It would be unnatural to forbid relationships between men and women. It is only small groups of ascetics here and there that argue thus. There have always been such people in all religions, who believe that they show faith and loyalty to the Deity by sublimating all human desires.’

‘You may rest assured that I have not been converted, Fidelma. But several in the five kingdoms have,’ Colgú said defensively. ‘There are many who feel that they can best serve their Faith by the path of celibacy…’

‘And they have my good wishes, even though I think it is unnatural. But it is one thing to follow one’s own personal belief and another thing to force those ideas on everyone else as a dogma and the only path to take to serve God,’ responded Fidelma.

‘What I am trying to say, Fidelma,’ went on Colgú patiently, ‘is that there are now many religious within the five kingdoms who are taking vows of celibacy. Their movement is gathering strength and power. The fact that you, a princess of the Eóghanacht, have married a Saxon monk and given birth to a child, thus setting an example to your fellow religieuses, might be perceived as provocation by such groups. This might be another area where enemies may lurk.’

‘Nonsense! It is-’ began Fidelma, but Eadulf interrupted.

‘I understand exactly, Colgú,’ he said quietly but determinedly. ‘Before we left for Rath Raithlen, I had an argument with Bishop Petrán on this very subject. And-’ He stopped suddenly and his eyes widened. ‘Where is Bishop Petrán? I have not seen him since we returned.’

Fidelma looked at Eadulf in surprise.

‘Come, Eadulf. He is an old man with strong views but you don’t suggest that he…? Why, I have known him since I was a child.’

Colgú leant forward with sudden suppressed excitement.

‘But Eadulf’s point is exactly that which I am making. Tell me more about this argument that you had with Bishop Petrán?’

‘It was on the day that you asked us to meet your cousin, Becc of Rath Raithlen. You must remember that, Fidelma? It was nothing much but it irritated me. I have heard the arguments a hundred times before. He believes that we should follow the decision made at Whitby and accept the full authority of Rome in the matters of liturgy, tonsure and the dating of Easter. I believe that, too. I have never made a secret of it. Indeed, I supported the argument at the Council of Whitby. Yet Petrán goes further and argues that we should accept the principles laid out at the second Council of Tours — that clerics found in bed with their wives should be excommunicated for a year. He hopes that the next major council of the western bishops will decree that all clerics should take a vow of celibacy.’

There was a moment of silence.

‘It would be best not to ignore Petrán,’ Colgú finally observed in a soft voice. ‘It is well known that he is a woman-hater as well as the leading advocate of the idea that the clergy of the New Faith should be celibate. When he heard that there were women in the hinterlands of the kingdom, as in Gaul and Britain, who were still being ordained as priests of the Faith, he demanded I lead a crusade to destroy the ungodly. I pointed out that who is ordained and who is not is a matter for the bishops of the New Faith and not for a secular authority such as myself.’

Eadulf raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘I thought that three centuries had passed since the Council of Laodicea decreed that women were not to be ordained as priests to conduct the Mass?’

‘What is agreed in principle and what is done in practice are often two different things,’ pointed out Fidelma. ‘Brigid herself was not only ordained priest by Mel, son of Darerca, sister of Patrick, but had episcopal authority conferred on her. Hilda, whom you met at Whitby, was also ordained bishop. And there are still many women in Gaul who are ordained to conduct the Mass.’

‘One should not ignore Bishop Petrán’s rage. He may be old but he has influence and followers,’ added Colgú.

‘It is hard to ignore someone so pugnacious as Petrán,’ Eadulf admitted ruefully. ‘I openly admit that I am a supporter of the Petrine theory — I attended the Council of Whitby on behalf of the pro-Roman school. However, I do not support this group of ascetics who follow those who first gathered at the Council of Elvira and considered that celibacy should be enforced on all the clergy.’

Colgú frowned. ‘Petrine theory?’ he queried.

‘It is the argument that the Bishops of Rome, Innocent and Celestine, first put forward two centuries ago: that it was the right of Rome to rule over all the Christian churches. That is why the Bishop of Rome is addressed as the Father of the Faithful, the Papa, as it is in Latin,’ Fidelma explained.

‘I support that idea for the very reasons accepted at Whitby,’ added Eadulf. ‘We are taught that Peter was the rock on which Christ placed the responsibility for His church on earth and it was in Rome that, we are told, Peter founded that church. Rome has the right…’

Fidelma did not suppress her exasperated sigh.

‘This is no time for such theological arguments. My brother is stating that people like Bishop Petrán may have cause to hate us and hate our child because of their religious attitudes. Is that right?’

Colgú nodded. ‘I hasten to say that I do not point the finger at Petrán but simply at people who think like him and might harbour hatred and take that hatred to extremes. There are always fanatics about.’

Eadulf grimaced morosely. ‘Petrán is fanatic enough. Our argument nearly came to physical blows.’

‘Why so?’ Fidelma frowned, leaning forward suddenly. ‘You did not mention that.’

‘It was when he was declaiming on the piety of the Bishops of Rome in connection with his celibacy argument. I could not help but point out that if the Blessed Hormidas, Bishop of Rome, had not slept with his lady, then Rome would not have had his son the Blessed Silverius sitting, as his successor, on the throne of Peter. He was almost bursting with anger in attempting to deny that any Bishops of Rome married, let alone had children. Why,’ Eadulf warmed to his theme, ‘even Innocent, the first of his name to be Bishop of Rome, and who expounded the Petrine theory, was the son of Anastasius who had also been Bishop of Rome, and-’

‘Is Bishop Petrán still at Cashel?’ interrupted Fidelma, cutting Eadulf’s enthusiastic argument short.