“I buried my family there beside the Bedouin boy and marked their graves with a wooden cross facing east toward the rising sun. Then I sat down and waited to die. I prayed that the plague would take me away to be with Maryam and Ara in heaven, but it seems that God had other plans for me. My penance has been to live every day since then knowing what I did to Maryam and remembering the eyes of my little girl.”
Tears rolled down my face as Father Ailbe finished his story. I thought of my own son and how I had prayed to die after that terrible day. I suppose God has other plans for all of us.
“Abba, I’m so sorry. I never knew. But I still don’t understand why you took the bones of Brigid. What happened to your family was terrible, but that was over fifty years ago and far away.”
He nodded his head.
“Yes, it was long ago. I tried to run away from the memories, all the way here to Ireland, but of course that isn’t possible. Even though I have never forgotten my wife and daughter, I was able to live with the pain until a few months ago when I treated young Caitlin for the first time. Her eyes, Deirdre! She has the same eyes as my Ara. I took one look at her and all the memories came flooding back. I knew I had to save her. To let her die was like losing Ara again. I tried everything, but none of my medicines or prayers worked. I knew the only hope for her were the bones of holy Brigid. I snuck into the church in the early hours of Michaelmas morning while it was empty and took them. I didn’t think about the problems it would cause, I just did it. May God forgive me, but nothing mattered to me except saving that precious little girl.”
“Did you tie the new ribbon on the latch of the chest?”
“Yes. It was a gift I received years ago as a gift from a king in Munster. I took Brigid’s ribbon because it has healing powers as well as her bones. You can add a second theft to my sins.
“I went a roundabout way to Caitlin’s hut after I left you on the road and buried the bones beneath her bed while the family was out in the fields. Her parents never knew. I had hoped the bones would work quickly, but when they didn’t, I was afraid she would die if I took them away. The bones and ribbon are still there, wrapped safely in oilcloth. I thought having Brigid’s bones so close would heal Caitlin, but I was wrong. Now she will soon die just like Ara. I couldn’t save either of them, Deirdre. I couldn’t save them.”
He began to weep. I held him in my arms, not knowing what to say.
“Deirdre,” he said at last as he pulled away, “I’m so sorry for everything I put you through, you and everyone else. I’ll go now and retrieve the bones. I’ll return them to Sister Anna, then I’ll resign my office and submit myself to the synod of bishops for punishment.”
“Abba, no, you can’t.”
“I’m afraid there is no other way, my child. I have gravely sinned.”
“Abba, wait. What you did may have been wrong, but think about the consequences if anyone finds out what happened.”
“I can’t hide what I did. A man can only live with so many lies.”
“Yes, Abba, you can hide it and you must, for the sake of the monastery and for all of us. If the abbot of Armagh hears about this he’ll destroy Kildare. He’ll deny he ever tried to steal the bones himself. He’ll have the bishops shut down the monastery. The abbot will take the bones to Armagh. Everything we’ve worked for will come to an end. The brothers and sisters will be scattered, the school will be closed, and the widows will starve to death. Abba, I know you want to do what you think is right, but you have to make one more sacrifice, maybe the hardest one of all. No one must ever know about this—not Dari, not my grandmother, and certainly not Sister Anna. You and I must keep this secret to ourselves, forever.”
Father Ailbe sat with his hands folded and his head bowed for a long time. Finally he spoke.
“Deirdre, my child, you’re much wiser than I am. I will yield to you in this matter, for the sake of the monastery. I owe you all this much. I will pray to God and blessed Brigid for forgiveness, though I don’t deserve it.”
“Thank you, Abba. I’ll go to Caitlin’s house right now and get the bones.”
“And what will you tell Sister Anna?” he asked.
“Only that whoever took them did so because of love.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I left Father Ailbe and went back down the road to Caitlin’s hut. I knocked on the door and found only her mother inside.
“Sister Deirdre,” she said with surprise. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon, but welcome.”
“Yes, Caitlin was so on my mind as I walked to the monastery that I had to see her again. I wondered if I could have a few minutes alone with her to pray?”
“Of course, Deirdre. I need to feed the chickens anyway. But I don’t think she’ll know you’re here.”
After she left, I went to the girl’s bedside and sat next to her. I held her hand and spoke gently to her, but there was no response. Her breathing was shallow and her face was as pale as snow. I prayed that God would spare her any more pain, then I knelt on the floor and reached underneath her sleeping platform. I dug away the loose dirt with my hands until I felt the top of a leather bag. I pulled it out and looked inside.
There were the bones of holy Brigid. The linen ribbon was on top of them.
I placed the bundle reverently in my satchel and covered up the hole. Outside I could heard a nightingale singing.
“Forgive me, little one,” I said as I kissed Caitlin on the cheek. “I wish the bones could have made you well. No one should have to die so young.”
Then I left the farm and headed back to the monastery and the hut of Sister Anna.
“Come in.”
I entered and stood before the desk of the abbess. I could see she was busy tallying numbers on her abacus again.
“Sister Deirdre, I’ve heard the report of Sister Darerca, but I’m afraid I’m too busy to discuss your trip to Armagh at the moment. Unless you’ve come to tell me there’s a wagonload of food outside, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have any food, Sister Anna, but I do bring good news. I’ve recovered the bones of holy Brigid.”
She looked up at me from her desk, then frowned.
“If this is some sort of joke, I’m not amused.”
I opened my satchel and took out the leather bag, laying it gently on her desk. She stared at it for a moment, then slowly untied the drawstring and opened it. She carefully removed the ribbon, then each bone, placing them on her desk. She removed the skull last of all with its unmistakable polished surface and the words SANCTA BRIGIDA carved on the top in Latin. She made the sign of the cross on her chest and prayed silently with her eyes closed. Then she put each bone back in the bag and looked at me.
“Where did you find them?”
“They weren’t far away. They were hidden safely the whole time.”
“That wasn’t what I asked. Where were they and who took them?”
“With the greatest respect, Sister Anna, I’m afraid I can’t answer your question. I can only say they were taken with the best of intentions by someone who meant no harm to the monastery.”
“That isn’t sufficient. I need to know who took them and why.”
“It was because of love, Sister Anna.”
“Love?”
“Yes. Perhaps it was misguided, but the intentions of the one who took them were pure.”
“And you refuse to tell me the identity of this thief?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s for the sake of the monastery and all that we do that I must keep silent.”
“And if I insist on pain of expelling you from our order?”
“Then I would leave the monastery.”
She looked at me closely before she spoke again.
“Sister Deirdre, you have been a thorn in my side since you put on the veil. You resist authority, you lack discipline, and you seem to think rules are something you need follow only at your convenience. When I put you in charge of findi
ng these bones, I did so only because of your unique status outside these walls. You were willful and difficult then—qualities you still possess in abundance. But as much as I am tempted to remove you from our monastery, I can’t ignore the fact that you have accomplished what I asked of you. I’m not yet sure that you were meant to be a nun, but I will tolerate your disobedience on this particular occasion. Nonetheless, let me warn you that my beneficence in this matter isn’t to be taken as license. I am grateful you have found the bones and I will allow you to keep your secret, but I expect you to obey me in all things in the future.”
“Yes, Sister Anna, of course I will.”
“Good. Now go. Tell the sisters and brothers I’ll meet with them in the church immediately. We may yet be able to save this monastery.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The celebration that year on the eve of holy Brigid’s day was more joyous than ever before. Word had spread quickly that the bones had been recovered. Everyone from miles around came to celebrate, Christian or not. We had little of our own to offer our visitors, but the pilgrims brought so much themselves it scarcely mattered. We set up tables in the yard and served up more food than any of us had seen in months. There was a bonfire in the center of the monastery yard, with singing and dancing and feasting.
Dari and I walked through the crowd that evening and saw most of the younger brothers and sisters gathered at one table. Macha had just told some story that had everyone in stitches. I was pleased to see how quickly she had fit in. They all greeted us cheerfully as we passed, except for Eithne, who was as hostile as ever.
My grandmother was sitting at another table with a few of the local druids and a couple of the older nuns she had known for years. They were all laughing about something as they drained yet another cup of mead from a barrel Brother Túan had brought. He was sitting near the school, telling a group of children yet again of his life in ages past.
My grandmother waved us over after the others had gotten up to dance.
“Well, my child, you did it.” She gave me a big hug. “The question is what will you do now? You know Cormac is here. You’re going to have to tell him something.”
“That’s right,” said Dari. “She’s got men lined up out the gate wanting to pay her bride price. Now that she’s a big hero, it’s going to be hard to keep her at our humble monastery.”
“Oh, both of you leave me be. I’m going to talk to him now.”
“But what will you tell him?” asked Dari and my grandmother at the same time.
“You’ll see,” I said. “Dari, would you mind bringing Cormac to the church?”
I left them and I walked to the empty sanctuary. The bones of Brigid were safely back in their place now, but Sister Anna had ordered a large iron lock placed on the chest and thick bolts to hold it to the stone floor. I said a quick prayer to Brigid, hoping that I had made the right choice.
Dari brought Cormac in. He looked more dashing than ever in his royal robes and high leather boots. Dari nodded and left. I had a feeling she and my grandmother were listening just outside the door.
“Thank you, Cormac, for coming here.” I took his hands as I spoke.
“Deirdre, congratulations about the bones. I heard that you’re not revealing who took them. Are you sure you can’t even tell me?”
“I’m sorry, Cormac, but I’m taking the secret to my grave.”
“Ah well, I can appreciate discretion. I also heard about your encounter with the abbot. Are you alright?”
“Yes, but I think I’ve made a very dangerous enemy.”
“Deirdre, you can’t do anything important in this world without making a few.”
I took a deep breath before I spoke again.
“Cormac, I’ve done a lot of thinking about us the last few days.”
He smiled and waited.
“But I’m afraid I can’t marry you. I’m going to remain here at the monastery of holy Brigid as a nun.”
He looked surprised.
“Your offer was so kind, Cormac, and so generous. You would make a fine husband. A woman would be a fool not to marry you.”
“But you’re not a fool, Deirdre.”
“You must understand, Cormac, this is my home now. Here at Kildare is where I can do something good for the world—but I can only do it as a nun. As your queen I would be powerful, but it’s not the kind of power that matters to me anymore. There’s so much that needs to be done here. We’re fighting a war for the soul of Ireland. I realized it when I saw how awful things were at Armagh. If the abbot has his way, the church in Ireland will be a tyranny that destroys hope and grinds down lives of women and men alike. I can’t let him win. I’ve got to do everything I can to fight for Brigid’s vision. I don’t pretend that there aren’t hard times ahead, but this is where I need to be.”
For a few moments he didn’t say anything. I could hear someone playing the pipes outside.
“Well,” Cormac said at last, “I hate to lose you, but I do understand. I don’t share your religion, but I don’t want men like the abbot running the church either. And please remember that you’re not alone. If there is ever anything I can do for the monastery or for you, let me know.”
I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, then reached up and wrapped my arms around him. We held each other for a long time before I finally let him go.
“It’s a pity, Deirdre. You would have made a wonderful queen.”
After the last of the pilgrims had finished their dinner and we had begun to clean up, the abbess called me to her hut.
“Come in.”
“You wanted to see me, Sister Anna?”
“Yes, have a seat.”
I was surprised. The abbess had always made me stand before.
“You might be interested to know I just received some unexpected news. Perhaps the recovery of the bones changed his mind, but King Bran has granted us a chance to rebuild the church at Sleaty.”
“Sister Anna, that’s wonderful.”
“You may not think so once you learn I’m putting you in charge of the project.”
“Me? After all my mistakes?”
“Call it an opportunity for redemption. I’ve come to realize that we all need to put the past behind us.”
“Thank you. I won’t let you down this time.”
“I should hope not.”
“But Sister Anna, even with the lands at Sleaty, will the monastery be able to survive?”
“It won’t be easy, but with the record offerings of food and animals we gathered today, I think we should be able to continue our ministry until next autumn. Then we’ll have to hope and pray that the harvest is good. As for Sleaty, I want to see your plans for building the new church in three days—workers needed, supplies required, estimated completion time—and there will be no excuses if you are late.”
“Of course, Sister Anna. I’ll have all the information for you on time.”
“See that you do. Now go. I have a great deal of work to do.”
And with that Sister Anna dismissed me. Perhaps it was just the dim light from the candle in her hut, but I would swear she was smiling as I closed the door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Before going to bed that night, I walked back to the church. The remains of the feast had been cleaned up and the tables put away. The guests had all gone back to the sleeping huts or to their nearby homes. The monastery was quiet at last. Tomorrow, at noon on holy Brigid’s day, Father Ailbe would offer a special mass for all who had come to Kildare, Christians and druids, nobility and commoners, rich and poor. Everyone would gather together as one to sing praises to heaven and honor the woman who had touched and healed so many lives.
I went into the church and knelt before Brigid’s bones. I offered her a prayer of thanksgiving, not just for the recovery of her bones, but for so many blessings—my friends, my family, my community of sisters and brothers—all of us imperfect, all of us still seeking answers.
As I was praying, a
young woman pulled at my sleeve. It was Caitlin’s sister asking me and Father Ailbe to come to their hut to be with them at the end, for they didn’t expect her to last through the night. I quickly went to the nun’s quarters to get my harp so that the last sounds she would hear in this life would be sweet music and her mother’s soft goodbye. Then I went to Father Ailbe’s hut and woke him. I was still angry at him for what he had put me through, for what he had put the whole monastery through, but I knew he hadn’t done anything for his own sake. It was all for the love of a child. I held his hand as we walked down the road to Caitlin’s farm.
By the time we arrived, her family was gathered around her bedside kneeling in prayer. She was no longer conscious even for short times. Her skin was cold to the touch and her breathing labored and irregular. Father Ailbe was barely able to find a pulse. We all knew her small heart was almost ready to stop. I began to play a peaceful tune, as much for her family as for Caitlin.
We waited there for hours, with her sisters and brothers eventually falling asleep around her. Her father sat on a stool next to her bed. He looked more shocked than saddened, as if he couldn’t believe God was taking his little girl away. Her mother remained on the bed beside her, kissing her gently and whispering words of love.
Sometime after midnight Father Ailbe put his ear to her chest to check her breathing. It had became so shallow that I wondered if she was still with us, but then I saw her chest rise slightly and knew she had not yet let go.
The first rays of dawn on holy Brigid’s day were piercing the eastern sky when I finally began to drift into sleep. The fire in the hearth had died away with no one tending it. The girl’s father was snoring softly by the bed. Only her mother and Father Ailbe kept the vigil.
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