The Monk

“To offer violence” I said, “or even the threat of violence is a serious thing at any time. To do so in God’s House is heinous.” The priest nodded vigorously and opened his mouth to speak. “To lie about one’s behaviour and seek to place blame where it is not due is a sin as well.” I made to move on but the priest put a restraining hand on my arm.

“One moment. I haven’t finished with you yet.” His tone of superiority set my teeth on edge. “You have accused these young men of lying: I will have you know that they are well-born, noble children of noble Saxon families. Your accusation is serious.” A crowd was gathering to witness the confrontation.

“If what you have said is true, then it is not an accusation. It is a statement of fact. I offered no violence to those boys. With what would I have done so? I carry no weapon. The offence is theirs. They came into a house of prayer like a rabble. I quietened them. They left. There was no violence, nor any threat of it, from either side. I will leave you to deal with them as your customs dictate.” I made to go but again the priest restrained me, with a tighter grip.

“No sir, we will get to the bottom of this. I will not have my novices threatened by - by - “

“A primitive northern savage?” I offered quietly, and let the question hang in the air for a moment. The expression on the priest’s face told me I had hit the mark and a murmur went around the spectators. The priest seemed suddenly to remember that he was in the savage, primitive north, surrounded by its inhabitants. “I repeat, there was no violence offered on either side, neither from me nor from your boys. I suggest we leave it at that but if you insist on confrontation, then it would be better away from the crowd.” I looked around at the audience and saw my accusers towards the edge of the growing audience. Some of their cockiness had returned, to judge from their smirking faces.

“I think here is as good a place as any to demonstrate the baseness of your accusation, here, in the open, where you accused these fine young men of being liars in front of witnesses.” He looked around and spotted his charges himself. “You three! Come on over here!” the boys looked startled and made no move to comply. “Come on, come on! Come over here now!” he repeated with impatience. Another Roman priest close by spoke a quiet word with the trio and they started to make their petulant way towards their superior and the monk, the crowd parting to allow passage.

“Now then, Aeldwin,” he addressed the one I’d faced down, “this - er - er -”

“Monk?” Another voice offered, helpfully. All eyes turned to see who had spoken. Wilfrid had joined the crowd and stood there, arms folded, observing the proceedings with a stern face. “Pray continue, brother. I know this man and I know his reputation. Carry on.” The priest made a courteous bow and continued, with a confident smile.

“This, er, monk says that he offered you no violence. He claims that he merely rebuked you for misbehaviour. He says you are a liar. Repeat what you told me.” I listened with polite interest and then turned with an expression of expectation to Aeldwin. The novice could not return my look. He gazed at the ground and was silent.

“Come on, Aeldwin, tell us all what happened. Tell me again, in front of these witnesses, what this so-called monk did to you!” The boy looked at the ground.

“Yes, Aeldwin. Tell us,” I said quietly. “Look me in the eye and tell me that I offered you violence in God’s house. Look at me.” My voice was quiet, but I spoke with a voice of real authority. “Look at me and accuse me. Dare you meet my eye and say that I threatened you?” The boy dragged his face up from regarding the dirt, slowly and unwillingly.

“I -” he started, in a strangled voice, but he dared not look into my face again and he turned and ran back to the monastery buildings. His two companions wavered, but stayed.

“Aeldwin? Aeldwin! Aeldwin! Come back here!” called the priest, and made to go after him. He was halted by a sharp command.

“Wait!” said Wilfrid. He came and asked me what had happened. I explained briefly and quietly.

“The three of them came into the chapel like arrogant princelings on a day out. I rebuked them and told them to have more respect, for God’s House and for our Sabbath.” Wilfrid nodded and turned to address the priest.

“I said that I know this man, and his reputation.” He spoke clearly enough for those nearest to hear. “He was one of my teachers, years ago when I studied at Lindisfarne. He is honest and dependable. He would hesitate before resorting to violence even to save his own life. You should have come to me before accusing him or any of his brothers or sisters. We want this Synod to be conducted with dignity.” Raising his voice, he continued. “Listen, all of you. I speak for Bishop Agilbert and, I am sure, for Abbott Colman in this. We are to treat each other with respect, for our persons, for our traditions and for the hospitality we are all receiving. The Synod will resolve our differences. Today is the Irish Church’s Sabbath. Bear that in mind and go quietly about only that business which is necessary, and do so quietly. Tomorrow is our Sabbath. I would ask the adherents of the Irish church to extend the same courtesy to us. Now be on your way, all of you.” The crowd melted away and I saw, for the first time, that Mungo had been part of it. The zealot looked at Wilfrid with suspicion, then drifted off with the others.

“This must not happen again,” Wilfrid said to his colleague. “Keep closer control of your charges in future. I will see you in my chamber in ten minutes, if you please. Go and wait for me there, I’ll be along directly.” The priest bowed briefly and headed off towards the buildings in Mungo’s wake. I thanked Wilfrid for his intervention.

“Anselm,” he replied seriously, “we may be opponents in this matter, but I am not your enemy, nor Colman’s, nor Cedd’s, nor Cuthbert’s, nor Hilda’s, nor any of you. However,” he smiled without humour, “I have done you a favour, and I may seek repayment one day. I supported you: perhaps you’ll support me in my turn?”

“Not on the current matter.”

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