Jack Whyte - The Eagles' Brood

"I assume, Picus Britannicus, from the numbers you have assembled here, that you have decided to make public your renouncement of the heretic Pelagius and his misguided teachings and to seek the forgiveness of Holy Mother Church!" Someone seated in the circle of the hall drew in his breath with an audible hiss, but the priest continued, "It is only fair to advise you, however, that in the light of your treatment of myself and these of my brethren who have shared your prison with me, the clemency you seek might be slower in being granted than it might otherwise have been. To lay hands on, or to offer insult to, the envoys of the Holy Father in Rome is not the best way to seek the favour of the Church."

The speaker, a tall and emaciated man who could have been any age from twenty-five to thirty-five, had a voice that grated on the ears. His face was so thin as to appear cadaverous and I knew his breath would be rancid and foul. My father swept him with his eyes from the hem of his garment to the top of his head and then spoke as though the priest had never opened his mouth.

"I have assembled these people here to witness the delivery of the decision I promised you when we last spoke." He paused, seeming to weigh his words. "I am Commander here—Commander-in-Chief of this Colony. In terms of years, I am an old man, although by the grace of God, I am still young enough and healthy—"

"I warn you, Britannicus! You stand excommunicate! Speak not of the grace of God in terms of yourself. You blaspheme!"

This outburst produced a shocked reaction from the assembly. My father gestured for silence, then drew a deep, deep breath and held it until his face began to grow red, at which point he released the pent-up air steadily and audibly. I, who knew all the signs, had never seen him so angry. The tall priest, however, stood his ground boldly, his face a mask of arrogant intransigence.

Finally, my father spoke, his words slow and sibilant, his voice pitched ominously low. "Priest, hear me clearly and without distortion. I dislike threats, either given or received. And I dislike hasty judgments. Most of all, however, I dislike bad manners. You are here to hear my decision on a matter of great Import, and by the crucified Christ, Son of the Living God, you will hear it in courteous silence if I have to have you stifled and bound hand and foot!"

Again he quelled an outburst, this time of approval, with a glance of implacable anger, so that the spontaneous support subsided immediately. He returned his eyes to the priests. "Hear me, now! I suffered your abuse and your scandalous tongue in silence for hours yesterday... That was yesterday. Today, it is my turn to speak, and not only will any interruption be unwelcome, it will not be tolerated! I will, as I have said, stifle you and bind you if you force me to. The choice is yours." He paused, awaiting a reaction, and receiving none, continued.

"I am a soldier. As a young soldier, I had no time for religious pursuits. As I have grown older, however, I have made some study of the Christian doctrine, particularly the spread of it in Britain. It has been, by and large, a Roman religion, spread, over the years, through Roman settlement and Roman civilization. The people of Britain are not, or have not been until recently, predominantly Christian. In the past few years, since the withdrawal of Rome, they have had other things to occupy them. Survival, for example... The people of this land are beset on every side by invaders. North, south, east and west, they have to contend with Picts, Saxons, Angles, Jutes, Franks and Scots. All of these come to kill, to conquer and despoil, to pillage and destroy. None of them have the slightest regard for the people of Britain other than as sacrificial sheep.

"If you travel elsewhere in Britain you will find temples to the old gods, still in use. The foothold of the Christian Church in this land is tenuous, at best. That it exists at all is due to the efforts of the bishops here in Britain, men like our own Bishop Alaric, whose saintly piety and caring gave hope to the people who knew him. When a man, or a woman, can have no hope of being able to keep anything he or she owns for any length of time, then that person's sense of personal dignity and worth, his own integrity, becomes special to him. Bishop Alaric and his fellows worked hard to keep the people of this land free from despair. They taught them love, charity and the belief in the merciful omnipotence of God and His Son, Jesus... They offered people the hope of happiness beyond this squalid and vexatious life on earth, and they adopted the tenets of Pelagius, because they believed his teachings and beliefs to be righteous and wholesome in the eyes of God." He paused again and such was the power of iris delivery that none attempted to interrupt him. Eventually he continued.

"Let me repeat that. Alaric and his fellow bishops believed that the ways and the teachings of Pelagius were righteous and wholesome in the eyes of God. By direct association, Alaric and his like saw no dichotomy between the tenets of Pelagius and the word of the Christ Himself." The tall priest made as if to speak but he was cut off by the savage, chopping motion of my father's hand. "And now," my father went on, his voice level and temperate, his delivery slow and considered, "now, in the space of three short days, we are ordered—not requested—to accept the allegation—not the fact—that Pelagius is apostate, that his teachings are sinful, and that our beloved friend and mentor, Bishop Alaric of Verulamium, was a sinful man, misguided and inept, irresponsible and incompetent...

"We are commanded to recant our allegedly profane beliefs; to accept your unsubstantiated assurance that our entire way of life is in error; to admit, under pain of eternal damnation, that your way of worshipping our God is the right way and the only way; and to sue for your clemency. We are required to review our entire social structure and to relegate our own womenfolk to an inferior status that is entirely alien to us as Celts and Romans in the first place, and to the entire social mores of the people of Britain thereafter."

Picus's voice was the only sound audible in the room. He paused once more to let all he had said sink home to his listeners, then continued. "All of this you made abundantly clear to me yesterday. You made it painfully clear. And I told you then that I would consider your words and your message and arrive at a decision on how life in this Colony is to proceed from this day forth. In the meantime, you have been kept apart from my people. Imprisoned, as you choose to describe it. Let me point out to you that the laws of hospitality in this Colony and in this land are sacrosanct, and mutually binding upon host and visitor... It was you who forced my hand in the matter of your detention, by causing unnecessary, unwarranted and unprecedented strife beneath my roof. I chose to extend that detention after my interview with you yesterday, because your intolerant zeal alarmed me when I considered the effect it might have among these people of ours, who are simple people, unused to sophistry, oratory and semantics.

"It is with my mind attentive to the needs and the general welfare of the people of our Colony that I have deliberated upon your words and made my decision. I have said I am a soldier. I am no philosopher, nor am I a theologist, but for better or worse, I have a responsibility for the welfare of this Colony, and I believe in fulfilling one's responsibilities. It is therefore my responsibility, I believe, to learn more of these sweeping changes of which you bring word, and to seek assurance from the highest level of authority to which I can gain access that such changes come as the result of careful consideration and debate, and are not foisted upon us simply at the whim of a mere man or even a group of men seeking to further their own aims. It would be irresponsible of me to accept your assertions at face value: they are too sweeping, too extreme and too important to be taken lightly. That is my administrative decision, as Commander- in-Chief of this Colony. Take it with you back to Rome... We are not obdurate, but neither are we prepared to risk endangering our immortal souls without prudent investigation of the circumstances governing this signal change of posture within the Church." He paused again, and again the silence held until he resumed.