“I think your judgement will encourage him to be more cautious in future, my lord.” Oswy nodded slowly as he looked around the low wooden shed.
“A lowly place for the expression of high passions.” How much had he heard, or seen? “You were right in your observation that strong emotions have been released by this Synod, Magister. Is Abbott Cedd going to recover?”
“My friend thinks so.”
“Your friend, not your brother.” I bit my lip and Oswy rubbed his beard thoughtfully. He misses nothing. The King took three steps towards the three of us, then three back to the doorway, where he turned and spoke again, quietly. “It may be that no harm will come of these events. If that is the case, then my involvement is not necessary. I promised all clerics attending the Synod safe passage to and from Whitby, wheresoever they came from. I was thinking of Christians, but I have given my word and I will keep it.” Mungo moaned: he was coming round. “That one’s welcome has been exhausted. I leave him in your care. I don’t expect to see him again, except maybe on a horse as he leaves. The sooner this meeting is over, the better. I will see you as we arranged, Magister. Abbot.” He nodded to Colman, who bowed in return, then he left.
Colman leaned heavily against a wall and sighed.
“He knows everything, everything,” Colman exclaimed. “Oh, my God, what a pass we have come to. Murder -”
“Attempted murder,” I corrected him gently.
“Only by your intervention, Anselm. And a pagan, here, at the greatest-ever gathering of Christianity north of the Alps! Murder was intended! And we have a Druid masquerading as one of us, and now the King knows! Oh God, what a mess!”
“He’ll keep it to himself.”
“I know that, I’m not stupid,” Colman replied irritably, and was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, brother, please forgive me. You are right, of course, the King will keep this...this dreadful, dreadful...thing to himself. But I’m almost in despair! To think, I allowed - or even encouraged this man in his bigotry! I’d mistaken it for fervour and thought I could direct it. God forgive me for my complacency and my arrogance!” He looked up at the ceiling and, through it, to Heaven.
“Do not give in to despair. Despair is the Enemy’s outrider. Despair drove Mungo to this.”
“Despair at what?”
“Despair at Cedd: he thought there was no other way to overcome his arguments than to kill him. He’s so young that he could see no other way.” Colman nodded vigorously.
“You’re right, you are right Anselm. Thank God you’re here. With Cedd poisoned and Cuthbert so strange, and Chad beside himself with concern for his brother, I am glad of your experience and wisdom.” The pain, which had been shoved into the background, reminded me that it hadn’t gone away and I rubbed my head automatically. This distressed Colman immediately and he reverted to mother hen mode. “Oh, Anselm, I’m so thoughtless! You hurt yourself, and you must be so tired! You came here to rest! Forgive me, please! I shall make amends, straightaway. Here, lie down.”
I sat and looked up at Colman’s face, was full of concern.
“What about our prisoner?” We considered Mungo, who was regarding us with anger and pain in his eyes. Blood was mixing with the spittle on his chin. He wasn’t much subdued.
“Those who lie down with whores shall be infected with their filth! You shall be judged as whoremongers and slaves of Satan! Your sins will drag you down to the pit and the righteous will laugh at your misery! The deceits and lies of the enemies of God will triumph for only a short time! He will give them dominion over the Earth but he shall set bounds on their power and they will be utterly overthrown!”
“Oh, shut up!” Colman ordered. “You’ve done enough damage for a hundred Synods and a period of quiet would be most appropriate.”
“I will not be silenced! I will stand and bear witness to the truth!” he was struggling against his bonds and the entangling robe, trying to stand. “I will declare before the World and expose the whoremasters, the fornicators with the beasts of Babylon and their servants...!” I stood and walked over to him and took his chin in a grip of iron. I forced his face round and up so that he looked directly into my eyes. He missed the one chance he had, to close his eyes and resist. Had he done so, the task would have been more difficult. He hadn’t, so he fell still almost instantly, gazing vacantly into my eyes, a vessel ready to be filled.
“You will be still, Mungo,” I told him, “you will stay here and be quiet. You will not say a word to anyone but me or Abbott Colman. Look at Abbott Colman.” I forced the youth’s head round, then back. “Me or Abbott Colman, no-one else. And you will say nothing to us unless we tell you to. Do you understand? You may answer.”
“Yes”
‘That is good. That is good, Mungo.” The young zealot looked almost pleased, and a simple smile played around his mouth. “You will stay here, quietly. You will not attempt to go anywhere. If you need to perform your functions, you will ask Abbott Colman or me, no-one else. You will do as you are bidden. Do you understand? You may answer.”
“Yes.”
“Good. That is good, Mungo.” The smile again. I let him go and he sat back against the wooden wall, quiet for now.
“Will he be all right?” Colman whispered.
“Yes, he’ll be quiet now. And if I release him, he’ll be back to his normal self. Do you want that?” Colman hesitated, then nodded slowly.
“He can’t come to terms with his sin unless he is in full possession of himself. Even now, I wouldn’t have him enslaved, not even for his own good.” I agreed.
“However, I can make him more prepared to listen. I won’t interfere with his beliefs; he must modify them himself, yes. But I think it will help if he’s prepared to listen to others. He hasn’t done enough of that. He thinks he has insights worth more than anyone else’s. And now I’m going to bed.”
“Just one more thing,” Colman asked meekly, “does he need a guard?”
“It would be wise, I think - to keep the curious away as well as to keep an eye on him. Tell whoever you appoint to say that I am not to be disturbed until lunchtime, and that Mungo...” I paused, “...Mungo has had an attack of madness brought on by eating under-ripe berries and he’s been restrained for his own protection.”
“Must we still tell lies?”
“Would you rather go and tell Wilfrid that one of us tried to kill Cedd and then attacked me with murderous intent?” Colman shook his head.
“Er, no. I don’t think that would help us. I’ll do as you suggest.” At that I fell onto my bed, rolled into my blanket, and dropped into a deep sleep.
25
A Lost Argument