“We’ll see. Try to keep out of trouble, and don’t try any of your Druid spells on me or any of us when the Synod starts. I shall be watching. Good day.” He walked swiftly off to his meeting with his fellow priest, his rich cloak billowing out behind him. I sighed and trod off to the hills again, trying to regain the peace of the morning. It was a fruitless pursuit. The sun was going down and I returned to the yard with time to spare before the final Sabbath service.
The chapel was full, the normal complement of monks and nuns swelled by their Irish guests and by the curious. Most of the Romans present for the Synod had never seen an Irish service before and, unable to keep away but unwilling to risk participation in heresy, they formed a tight crowd just outside the door. Late arrivals had difficulty gaining access for their meeting. Before it was over, most of the Romans drifted off in boredom or puzzlement. To those used to the pomp and ceremony of Rome, this was very watery stuff - and conducted in English, not Latin! The Word of God was spoken in the everyday tongue! There was even some outrage, but also some reflection as the wholehearted involvement of even the meanest member of the community gave food for thought.
*
Wilfrid breezed into his chamber and found the priest waiting for him, as ordered.
“Well, Aeldred,” he started as he threw off his cloak and sat in a chair, “not a very auspicious start.” Aeldred was ready to launch into the long justification he’d worked out while he was on his own but one look at Wilfrid’s set jaw made him think better of it. “You underestimated these people. They’re neither ignorant nor savages, despite what you may have been told. When the flame of learning in Europe was reduced to a single, guttering candle in the darkness of the barbarian shadow, that candle burned and was kept alive in Ireland and in the unconquered places in the north. Nor are they apostates from the One True Church, not as we would understand it at least. They never left because they were never members. When our revered Saint Augustine arrived on these shores he found that the people in the west and north were already Christians, and had been for centuries.” The priest looked startled. “Aye, centuries. I’ve read Augustine’s letters to the Pope in Rome. He was astonished to find that these shabby monks and wandering preachers had evangelised and converted many of the English invaders, particularly in the south. The only pagans Augustine found were in the east - your grandfathers and mine, Aeldred. Our people were the pagan savages, not the British.
“That is not to say that we should give up and accept their teachings: they are in error, very serious error, and they must come under the authority of Rome. But they are not ignorant barbarians. The one you challenged is a highly educated man: he was a Druid.”
“But the Druids - they are evil beyond redemption!” Aeldred interrupted. Wilfrid waved his hand impatiently.
“Oh, grow up, Aeldred. We wish to keep the simple folk from reverting to pagan ways, but the Druids don’t eat babies. There was blood sacrifice and demon worship in the past but the Legions eradicated that nonsense hundreds of years ago. They’re still pagans, and have some powers I don’t understand - your lads were subjected to something of it today, I suspect - but they’re shrinking in number by the day. They’re neither powerful nor completely harmless but they flounder around in the dark, on the edges of civilisation, and their influence gets less every day. The Church advances; they’re lost in the twilight, reduced to spiteful sniping from the fringes. Most converted to Christianity years ago. The one you confronted today - Anselm - has been a monk on Iona for nearly ten years - longer than I’ve been in Orders,” he smiled coldly.
“So you’re saying we should tolerate them?”
“No I am not. We shall eradicate these erroneous and heretical practices of Columba’s Church. They shall fail, we shall triumph - not least because they are too humble and too soft-hearted. The authority of Rome will soon stretch from the north of this island to the tip of Italy and beyond, all across the world. It will be so.
“And talking of unacceptable, those braying donkeys of yours are just that, and insufferable. I would’ve given them a good thrashing, rather than just a fright, as Anselm did.” Aeldred tried to interject in their defence but Wilfrid would have none of it. “They were throwing their weight around and they got much less than they deserved. You may be impressed with their so-called nobility and lineage, I am not and neither was Anselm, nor will the other Irish monks be. The grandfathers of those ‘noble boys’ of yours were not above a fight - they had to be, they were invaders, as were yours and mine. As far as lineage goes, the lowest British slave in a freeman’s farmstead claims ancestry from their ancient gods and kings, an ancestry that goes back into the darkness before Christ. You would do well to treat Anselm and all of them with caution and show some respect. You never know what you will find yourself up against. Confine those troublemakers to their quarters until Mass tomorrow, and then again until Monday morning. Make sure all of the novices know about the punishment they’ve received - a couple of blood-curdling tales of Druidic powers may help discipline as well. A few hours on their knees praying for forgiveness for their lying arrogance wouldn’t go amiss, either. You can go now.”
The chastened Aeldred trooped off to do as he was told. Wilfrid leaned back in thought. It will be so: the One True Church would triumph. The Irish Church had - albeit imperfectly - prepared the way for Rome. They did not, could not know what force faced them. He had seen Rome and knew that no power could stand against it. To compare the magnificence of the Frankish and Italian churches and abbeys with the huts of these outlanders was a joke. The majesty of high masses, with choirs of boys and eunuchs, and congregations as awed as they were obedient. No wandering about or spontaneous dancing there! The respect that was God’s due was paid in the soaring chants and the bowed heads.
The structure, the order, the discipline! The army of God, marching inexorably and irresistibly to establish His kingdom on Earth! The martial organisation was necessary to achieve His great plan, to save the world from darkness. In hardly more than two centuries Rome had conquered much of the continent of Europe, and would continue throughout the whole world.