Jack Whyte - The Sorcer part 2 - Metamorphosis

"Now, " he said, settling himself. "Where were we? You were speaking of the absurdity of a so called man of God defying his beliefs and disregarding the threat of excommunication"

"Yes. It seems ridiculous."

"And so it is." He looked at me speculatively, his head cocked slightly to one side. "I hope you will forgive me if I seem to speak in ignorance, Caius Merlyn, but we do not know each other well, we two. I was your aunt Luceiia's confessor and confidant before her death, but you and I had little to do with each other. I know you met my saintly brother Germanus on the way to Verulamium, where you helped him win his impressive victory over the pagan forces who opposed him, but I suspect you know little of Pelagius or his teachings. Am I correct?"

"About Pelagius, you are. I know little of him. But I know even less about this impressive victory you describe. What are you talking about? When we first met, Germanus and his people had been trapped by raiders in an abandoned farmyard. We drove them off, fortunately without great loss to ourselves. But that was a skirmish, not a victory of any kind. After that we had no trouble anywhere, other than a minor confrontation with some would be bandits in Verulamium itself. So what is this victory you speak of?"

'The Alleluia Victory, men call it."

'The what?'

Enos held up one hand. "Allow me to explain, if I may. According to Bishop Germanus, who told me the tale in protest at what had been made of it, he and his party, perceiving themselves to be in a countryside that lacked danger, had allowed themselves to become careless. The soldiers riding with them were merely an honour guard, a relic of the Roman garrison in Gaul, who rode with Germanus and his brethren by their own choice. Germanus, as a former soldier, rode in soldier's garb, fully armed, in order to be able to protect his brethren should some dire need materialize. Nevertheless, and naturally enough, they were behaving like; clerics, not soldiers. They slept one night at an abandoned farm, and awoke to find themselves surrounded by a roving; war band of Picts and Saxons. The bishops thought they were about to die when out of the morning sky came a hail of deadly arrows, fired from a distant cliff above the farm. The missiles, which were accurate and lethal, wrought havoc among the enemy and forced them to abandon their attack and to charge uphill towards the new aggressors. That withdrawal, in turn, enabled Germanus to lead his men safely out of the entrapment of the farm's stone walls. Then, once his fellow bishops were safe, he led his few riders to attack the rear of his former assailants.

"You, I know, were one of the bowmen on that distant cliff, and with two others you distracted the enemy. In the meantime, you had also sent your cavalry around to enter the valley to the north and then charge back southward to give succour to the farm's defenders. The raiding force was demoralized completely, and they broke up into small groups, easily disposed of. " He stopped, and gazed at me, smiling. "Is that as accurate as your recollection of what happened that day?"

"Precisely, save that I saw it from the vantage point on the cliff top and missed the origins of the conflict, the initial surprise. " I stopped then, and shrugged. "I suppose it was a victory, of sorts. But it was not impressive. We chanced to be in the right place at the right time, with the right force, and the enemy was a rabble. All else was inevitable. " I hesitated. "So how did it come to be called the Alleluia Victory?"

Now Enos laughed, a slight, almost frail sound. "Bishops, men of God, are nonetheless men in every other sense. You saw nothing impressive in the affair—a mere skirmish with a raiding enemy, as you have said, effectively concluded with few losses. But the bishops, Caius Merlyn, the bishops! What they saw was altogether different. Imagine it—the identical scene—from their viewpoint.

"They had travelled far, much farther and for a much longer period of time than most of them were used to. They made camp in a pleasant valley, sheltered among some ruined walls, and after praying long into the night, they took their rest, only to awake to find a savage death threatening them, with painted savages and bull horned Saxons screaming for their lives. Their leader and their spiritual guide, Germanus, was unable to protect them. He could lead no counterattack in safety, since there was but one exit to the place and it was held by the attackers. So the men of God fell to their knees and prayed, in terror of their lives. And as they prayed, a rain of arrows fell from Heaven and began to destroy the enemy, who turned and withdrew. Mere moments later their champion and fellow bishop, Germanus, led them to safety beyond the walls that had so quickly become their prison. He left them with an escort, to protect them arid led his own contingent of warriors to attack the rear of their fleeing attackers. The last word that he cried aloud before leading his men to the charge was Alleluia—Praise be to God.

"No sooner had the badly frightened bishops fallen to their knees to give thanks than they heard the sound of yet another charge approaching. As this new contingent of rescuers miraculously appeared and swept by them, the bishops raised the self same cry of Alleluia, which was taken up by the galloping riders who then advanced into the fray with the praises of God upon their lips... " His voice faded away and he continued to gaze at me for some time before concluding.

"So you see, my son, both parties witnessed precisely the same events, but they experienced them from widely divergent viewpoints. To the clerical brethren huddled there by that abandoned farm, their salvation was miraculous, a divine intervention in their lives. Their faith in that was, and is, implicit. You say you merely happened to be there at the right time, with the right force to aid you. They believe you were Heaven sent, to be precisely where you were at their time of greatest need. Had it not been so, Bishop Germanus would have perished there and the debate at Verulamium would never have taken place. Which version of the tale is truer? As a Christian, can you doubt theirs and believe that God was unaware of your nearness that day?"

"But... the scope of it, Enos! It was a minor squabble!"

"Ah!" His utterance was terse and dismissive. "And was the outcome minor? The debate in Verulamium? Your intervention that morning saved the bishop's life and saved the Great Debate. It served the very fabric of God's Church and brought about the undoing of a creed of heresy. Those elements transform your minor squabble into a major victory in these old eyes and in the eyes of many others, Caius Merlyn, so may we leave it at that? If modesty forbids you to acknowledge what occurred in truth, then so be it! I suppose, then, that you will be pleased to hear the tale's aftermath. " His smile broadened, provoking an answering smile upon my lips.

"And what is that, this aftermath?"

"Why, it had nothing in the least to do with you. Your name has never been mentioned, in any version of the tale. " Now he was positively grinning, ear to ear. "The Alleluia Victory belongs to the saintly Bishop Germanus alone! That is why he is so greatly vexed. He thinks that is egregiously insulting to you and outrageously flattering to him. Shall I tell him, then, that you prefer it thus?"

"Hah!" I threw back my head and laughed aloud, exulting in the old man's pleasure. "Indeed, Bishop,, do so, fen: nothing could please me more than knowing that such an impressive victory had nothing to do with me or Camulod." He joined in my laughter. Then he leaned forward and slapped his fingers lightly on my knee.

"But we have digressed. We were speaking of other bishops and how they can seem to vacillate. I was about to comment on your knowledge of the doctrines taught by Pelagius. I said you seem to know little of them, and you agreed, did you not?" I nodded, watching him closely now, and he continued. "Do you know anything of what he taught? He had six arguments that formed the basis of his theology— are you familiar with them?"