Nothing.
“Ieuan! Ieuan!” I shook him again. “Do you accept Christ as your Saviour and Redeemer? The Son of God?”
A squeeze, as light as the touch of a butterfly’s wings.
“I baptise you in the Name of the Father,” I put my hand over Ieuan’s mouth and immersed him briefly, desperately, “and of the Son,” immersion again, “and of the Holy Spirit,” immersion again, “Amen.”
His lips moved, then he sighed, then he was dead.
“And may God have mercy on your soul.” I smelt the aroma of apples: my friend had gone. Then there was the smell of burning ash. Then there was nothing.
There is forgiveness but there is punishment too. What had he gone to? Had he gone anywhere or had he been ejected from the Circle of Life?
I cradled Ieuan’s empty body in my arms and held it to myself and stood in the freezing water and remembered him as I wanted, a smiling, beautiful, kind youth, a healer and my good friend. He saved my life, twice – no three times. Maybe more. I held him as his blood was washed away by the stream, over the rocks, and away. Then I shook myself, hauled him out of the pool and dropped his soaking, ravaged body on the bank and nearly collapsed alongside it. I dragged myself up and rested against a rock.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I said. “I don’t think I’m made for it.”
“For what?” Godwin asked. He had arrived, unnoticed.
“Forgiveness,” I said. “I don’t think I can do forgiveness.”
“Anselm – “ I interrupted him.
“Ciaran,” I said. “My name is Ciaran. I am a prince of Donegal.”
Author’s notes:
The Legends, History and Characters
While `The Monk’ is a work of fiction, not a history book, some of the events actually happened, and some of the characters lived, in the 7th Century.
The Battle of Winwaed
In AD 654 or 655, catastrophic defeat in the Battle of Winwaed broke the power of Mercia and handed it to Northumbria, under King Oswy. It was a major turning point in Seventh Century Britain.