Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

Eadulf flushed with mortification and sank down into his chair. Fidelma was glaring at him in disapproval.

Murgal smiled triumphantly and continued.

‘We have seen what this alien religion brings. Strangers from over the water who do not know our ways or customs and who would dictate to us. Strangers who insult our procedures so that they have to be rebuked.’

Eadulf ground his teeth at the way Murgal had seized on his lack of knowledge about protocol to strengthen his argument.

‘Our brethren outside of the protection of these mountains may well have succumbed to the foreign teachings. It does not make it right nor is it an argument that we must also accept this religion. I say it must be rejected and our mountain barriers used to exclude its pernicious teachings. That is my position as Druid, Brehon and advisor to the chieftain of Gleann Geis.’

Murgal sat down amidst the many mutterings of approval from the people in the chamber.

Laisre nodded to the horn player who let out another blast to silence the chamber.

‘Murgal has a right to speak before all others. It is my right to speak next. I am, like Murgal, an adherent of the true deities of our people, the gods and goddesses whom our forefathers worshipped and who have protected us since time began. But my duty as chieftain is to extend the hand of protection to all the people of this clan. Before I sent to the bishop of Imleach to suggest that we could negotiate a settlement for those of this clan who have adopted the ways of the new Faith, I pondered the matter carefully. I decided that he could send someone to discuss how best we could reach such an agreement. Imleach has long wanted to build a Christian church and a school in our valley.

‘But I am a pragmatist. Because many of our people have married outside of this valley, we have to accept some of us now believe in this new Faith. Some have tried to hide that fact because they think it will displease me. In truth, it does make me unhappy. I will not deny it. Suppress the new Faith was one argument that I was counselled. But the people of Gleann Geis are my children.’

Murgal looked defiantly at him but he kept silent. Laisre paused a moment to reflect and then continued.

‘That would have been a short-sighted policy, for what one prohibits becomes something that is eagerly sought after. So rather than give sustenance to those who would worship the new Faith, I now say give it freedom and let it wither naturally.’

Another outburst of low muttering followed Laisre’s speech.

Fidelma, looking slightly puzzled, stood up.

‘I am here not to argue for the new Faith or against the old Faith. I am here as an envoy of Cashel to negotiate with you on matters which I had been informed your mind was already agreed upon.’

To Eadulf’s surprise, she sat down. The brevity of her statement even surprised Laisre who looked disconcerted.

‘Surely you would want to make some argument for your Faith?’ he faltered.

Even Murgal was looking nonplussed.

‘Perhaps she has no arguments?’ he sneered.

Eadulf leaned forward.

‘You can’t let these pagans denigrate the Faith,’ he whispered. He used the Irish term pagánach.

Murgal had good hearing.

‘Did I hear the Christian Saxon call us pagans?’ he cried out in a loud voice.

Eadulf was about to reply when he remembered the proscription against speaking. He said nothing.

‘Let him confirm that he called us pagan, lord,’ urged Murgal.

‘Your hearing is as good as anyone’s,’ Laisre replied. ‘It is the term that those of the new Faith often call us.’

‘I know it,’ affirmed Murgal. ‘And the very word pagánach is not even a word in the language of the children of Eireann. What better proof of their alien philosophy is this use of that word?’

‘We do not seek to argue that pagánach is a word now adopted into our language,’ intervened Brother Solin wheezily. ‘It is from the Latin paganus.’

Murgal was smiling broadly.

‘Exactly! Even in Latin it describes correctly what I am — a person of the country, pagus — as opposed to the milites or the soldiers who march through the country devastating it. You Christians are proud to call yourselves milites, enrolled soldiers of Christ, and look down on the civilians or paganus who you would trample on. I am proud to be called pagan ! It is an honourable estate.’

Fidelma had known that Murgal was a clever man but she wassurprised that he had such a knowledge of Latin. She rose to her feet once more.

‘I repeat, I am not here to discuss theology. I am here only to discuss how best we might agree a practical matter.’

Orla rose abruptly from behind Colla’s empty chair. She was clearly enjoying the argument.

‘If my husband were here, he would challenge this representative of Cashel. But I have a right to speak at this council not only in my husband’s stead but as the sister of the chieftain.’

‘Let Orla speak!’ came a cry which gathered momentum from the seated dignitaries and those standing behind them.

Laisre motioned his sister, Orla, forward.

‘There is no secret that I and Colla, my husband, have disagreed with Laisre, my brother. He has refused Imleach’s attempt to bring Christianity to this valley for years and now he has invited members of the Faith to bring their alien teachings here. My brother, Laisre, is foolish if he thinks that allowing this new Faith to be practised here would see a swift destruction of it. Look at the position of this Faith throughout the five kingdoms. Two centuries ago Laoghaire of Tara took such a view that there was always room for another religion in the land and that suppressing it would merely make it breed faster. He allowed the followers of the Briton, Patrick, to have freedom to worship their God. Two centuries later there are only a few tiny outposts in the five kingdoms where we still follow the gods of our ancestors. The new religion dominates everywhere. Give it breathing space and it will choke the rest of us.’

There was a banging of feet and applause as Orla resumed her seat.

To Fidelma’s irritation, Brother Solin had risen to his feet.

‘Since Fidelma of Cashel will not debate with you, I, as representative of the Comarb of Patrick, who sits in Armagh, feel that I should take up the challenge she discards so lightly. I ask your indulgence to address this council.’

Fidelma’s face had taken on a stony look and she was staring straight ahead. Her mind was working rapidly. This was not the negotiation that she had been expecting. No one had given her any indication that this was to be a debate on theology in which her task was to seek proselytes. She felt that she was being manoeuvred into a debate as a distraction. But why?

Laisre asked Brother Solin to stand forward and invited him to speak.

Brother Solin shot a glance of triumph at Fidelma.

‘What is it that you fear about the religion of Christ?’ he demanded looking at Murgal.

‘Simply, that it destroys the old.’

‘And is that a bad thing?’

Murgal smiled threateningly.

‘We worship the ancient gods and goddesses who are the Ever Lasting Ones. Your Christ was executed and died. Was he therefore a powerful warrior? Did he have thousands defending him? No, he was a lowly carpenter who, irony of ironies, died on a tree!’

Murgal looked around him with a self-satisfied grin and added: ‘You see, I have studied some of this religion of Christ.’

Brother Solin had reddened at the gibe.

‘It was so ordained that the Christ, who was the Son of God, should die to bring peace to the world. God so loves this world, we are told, that he gave his only son to die for it.’