The Monk (Prince Ciaran th Damned Book 3)

by Ruari McCallion

  The big kitchen was used for storage, preparation and cooking. Foods that had to be kept cool were racked in coldstores off it; fresh vegetables and bread were kept within the kitchen. Drying racks and smoking hooks crowded the space in and around the fireplace. We found a loaf of bread to share, an apple each from the dwindling store and a pitcher of fresh, icy water.

  We sat down at the big table and I reminded Ieuan of our brief words of the night before. The only light came from the fire, but it was enough for me to read his face. It was important to me that I could, as it assisted in divining the truth of what was being said to me. It was force of habit.

  He warned me to take care in my relations with Owain and Gawain, that they were intelligent but proud, and were used to taking their own decisions. Too much pressure would be counter-productive; Owain would not tolerate manipulation, he said, and smiled when I asked whether he had remained above manipulation in the case of the Fife settlement.

  “Ah. That,” he said. “Yes, I used a spell to manipulate the situation. It is quite easy with Owain; he always looks you straight in the eye and listens very carefully to what you are saying.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I might as well tell you all, I suppose, otherwise you’ll just badger me until I confess.” He grinned and explained that he cast a vision-spell on the king and his nephews so that they would find everyone in Fife visually repulsive and overpoweringly smelly. It came into effect as soon as he uttered a Phrase of Power, unnoticeable to all but the knowledgeable - and not to many of them! Their escort were at a loss to understand why Owain was so uncomfortable at the Fife courts. They all thought the women were perfectly acceptable, he reported. Even I couldn’t resist a chuckle at the thought of the scene. It was quite funny but I queried if it was something he was accustomed to doing.

  He swore he used this power very rarely and promised that the king was his own man in most things - including his installation as High Druid. Fife was a situation where action had to be taken, not discussed. He had heard of Fife’s machinations from contacts in Lothian and came to the conclusion that they were devious and untrustworthy.

  “I did it in the best interests of Strathclyde and Alba - and even Dalriada, though they’re no friends of ours,” he said. “We share a two hundred-mile border with Northumbria and it’s tested daily. Oswy wants us weak and divided: the English want our lands for themselves. They’d enslave us. Anyway,” he continued before I could interject, “I have no qualms about using my knowledge and powers for the good of my people. You may be a bit more particular. Maybe you can afford to be.” Privately, I had to concede that I might, in the extremity, manipulate as Ieuan had done. I was still uncomfortable about it, though. Each person has to work out their own destiny, I believed; interfering to the extent that Ieuan had was to eliminate the freedom to choose. I used to make my living imposing the will of whoever my employer was on others, at swordpoint, that old life was behind me; those days as Prince Ciaran the Damned were long gone.

  “So now there is a strong alliance in the north,” I said. More a statement than a question.

  “I would have thought that you would have welcomed that. Don’t the Christians want peace? Don’t begrudge us that, my friend, just because it isn’t the peace of Christ,” he said.

  “How long will it last?”

  “As long as it lasts,” he shrugged.

  “And the love that Owain and Gruach have for one another? Is that the result of some Druid love-potion?” He assured me that he had nothing to do with it. I queried whether that was always the case.

  “Their love is genuine. It wouldn’t survive if it was otherwise. Love-potions aren’t known for their long-term efficiency. A night of passion can be guaranteed but a lifetime of devotion - no.”

  “So such a thing wouldn’t work for Gawain and a Powys Princess - or any princess, come to that?” Ieuan looked up sharply.

  “When did you guess?”

  “The first time I saw him, and I didn’t guess. It’s part of my Gift, remember; the ability to divine true nature.”

  “I hadn’t forgotten. But you’ve grown sharp over the years. We’ll all have to be careful around you, Ciar-sorry, Anselm.” He smiled and went on. “I don’t believe anyone else realises – no-one who matters, anyway. How can that be? A potion can sustain a night of passion even between incompatibles, as I said. He can perform well enough to satisfy the curiosity of his lustful warriors, when necessary. He has a reputation for restraint, that’s all.”

  “And his real needs? How do you help him to satisfy them and yet keep his secret?”

  “A forgetting-spell. Simple, but effective.” This response was as sharp as my own enquiries. Maybe I had become more judgmental but I was wondering if Ieuan was forcing others to serve his ends. I hesitated a moment. The discussion was getting awkward but I was resolved to get an answer.

  “So, you connive at rape?” I asked, and not gently.

  “No. No I do not,” he replied, with a flash of anger. “The young men are willing. All I do is make them forget what has occurred so that they can’t blackmail Gawain. You really should know me better than that.”

  I offered a kind of apology but I was still uneasy. Why, I couldn’t work out. My mind had been set at rest about the manipulation of Owain, his marriage and even Gawain’s position. Ieuan still seemed to be genuinely friendly towards me but he looked so old. He was being worn down by something. What it was would emerge in good time, I decided.

  “I take it that Owain doesn’t know about Gawain? I don’t suppose he would have mentioned anything about a state marriage if he did.” Ieuan shook his head in agreement.

  “No, he has no idea. Gawain is tortured by his nature. He’s never accepted it or learned to live with it, as I have. And no, he and I have not lain together. I’m too old for him. Always have been and besides,” he sighed before continuing, “I achieved celibacy a long time ago and wouldn’t easily surrender it. I would not go through that fight again.”

  We moved on and soon took to talking about old times, when we were together at the Druid training school at Innisgarbh, the Isle of Rock. Coivin, my foster-brother and Dark Twin, and I had arrived at Innisgarbh at just eight years of age. We quickly learned that it was a harsh place, where punishment was the norm. We were beaten for failing our classes, for doing our lessons too well, for cheeking our teachers if we answered them, and for our silence if we did not. And there was a cohort, led by an ollamh[8] named Lucius, that abused and exploited the youngsters in their care. There was even more to them than that, as I would find out, years later. A deep corruption that led them into monstrous evil. You could say they were seduced by the ‘dark side’ but the truth was: they embraced it. They rushed eagerly into its maw. They may have been as enthusiastic even if they had not been granted the power and influence they believed was their due. They revelled in it.

  But that was not to be revealed for years.

  It was Ieuan who had witnessed my first episode of the Sight. I had no idea what was happening; he knew exactly what was going on and took me to the right people for help and support. He had been my friend for the rest of my time through Innisgarbh. So far as he could, he had protected me from the attentions of Lucius, his ally Cormac and the rest of their gang, who would have used me and my Gift for ends that can only be described as the very depths of evil, as was made unarguably clear by what was uncovered at the Ballaugh, on Manannan’s Isle[9].

  He had also hidden me, provided me with shelter and got me out of Ireland after I had murdered Coivin, my cousin, Dark Twin and prince of Donegal, who I had killed to protect a young woman he was about to rape. The act could be regarded as justifiable but I carried the burden of guilt. I would still ask myself now if there was anything else I could have done, short of killing him. I could not see a way but I still looked for it.

  All that was a long time ago. Thirty years since I last saw Ieuan, as I set sail from a small harbour in Antrim for the kingdom o
f Strathclyde, on the mainland of Britain. A lot of water had flowed under many bridges since then. My destiny had taken me to Rome, Spain, the kingdoms of the Franks, to triumph and disaster, as a mercenary, Seer, bodyguard and assassin, to madness after defeat at the Winwaed[10], and now to my life as a monk with a new name and very different objectives and desires.

  I had thought about Ieuan from time to time down the years and wondered what had happened to him. I knew the old man in front of me was him but it was still hard to fully accept it. Time had treated us very differently.

  We talked about the people we’d known and what had become of them, who had died, who had survived, who was a druid and in what kingdom, the converts to Christianity and so on.

  I raised the bad times first, that poison tree that was rooted in Innisgarbh.

  “You remember Lucius?” I asked.

  “Lucius?” Ieuan was contemptuous. “He was exiled after you left. He was sent to Manannan’s Isle, in the Inner Sea[11]. They thought he could be controlled, there.”

  “They were wrong. You knew that?”

  “I heard something of it,” he shrugged, and looked away. This was strange and I was just about to ask him about it when he looked me straight in the eye again. “I heard that he and his coven were completely destroyed and that it cost a lot of lives to do so – both Druid and Christian, I heard. I also heard that the forces that defeated him were led by a young man who had powers the others could not conceive of. That was you, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes it was,” I said. Lucius had established a coven devoted to Cromm Cruaich, the devil-god, the eater of children. He had begun his work at Innisgarbh and had sowed confusion in the place. He and his followers had cast a distraction spell that turned attention away from the cause of the errors, irritations and mistakes that plagued it; him and his followers – they were the cause of all the disruption and upset. He was on the verge of taking it over completely and would have succeeded, had it not been for a remarkable stroke of luck. Our uncle, Conor, arrived to take Coivin and myself back to Donegal, after ten years away. He saved us from being beaten to death by Lucius, along with two of his followers. Even then, what had been going on was not understood until we returned to Donegal. Ieuan had accompanied us and he mentioned to Rogh, the kingdom’s High Druid, that his mind felt clearer, now he was away from Innisgarbh. Rogh grasped the significance immediately and gathered a troop of Ireland’s most powerful druids. They arrived at Innisgarbh as a small army, broke the spell and overthrew the coven. Exile followed for some, imprisonment for others. Lucius should not have been able to do anything on Innis Vannin[12] but he clearly managed to seduce his gaolers to his cause. I told Ieuan everything about the confrontation at the Ballaugh.

  “I was called by Diarmuid – you remember him?” I asked.

  “He was your protector for a while. He left to join the Christians,” he said. There might have been an edge to his reply but I thought nothing of it.

  “Yes. Well, I received a summons from him. I was reluctant to respond. It had been a long time – ten years – since I fled Donegal, after I had killed Coivin. I was inclined to think that the affairs of the Druids back there were nothing to do with me.

  “Where were you when you got the summons?”

  “A long way away, near the Middle Sea, which the Romans called the Mare Nostrum[13]. I had been engaged as a battle advisor. It paid quite well,” I paused and remembered, but only briefly. “I took some persuading. I was still very much a wanted man; my cousins in Donegal were after my blood. Diarmuid arranged and guaranteed safe passage, there and back to Rome, if I wanted. Several others, both Druid and Christians added their voices.”

  “Why you?”

  “They said I was the one who could focus their combined powers. And because I had encountered Lucius before, when he wasn’t as powerful as he became, I had some immunity to him.” Ieuan nodded.

  “So you went.”

  “Yes. It took me nearly three weeks to get there. I was worried that I might have missed everything. I needn’t have been concerned,” I smiled, “I arrived two mornings after Diarmuid and his allies had sent the summons to me.” Ieuan smiled in his turn and observed how irrelevant Time really is, or how the Otherworld ignores the rules when it feels so inclined.

  “You won the battle – but at a cost, I think.”

  “Yes. We lost a lot of good and brave people. Diarmuid and Amergin died – yes, Amergin was there.” He had been the principal of Innisgarbh when Ieuan and I were there. Several others died, too, Christians and Druids alike. “I didn’t know most of them. Hardly even got the chance to meet them. They were just forces to be harnessed and thrown into the battle. Lucius and company had grown very powerful – they had engaged in human sacrifice. Did you know?” he nodded, briefly. “It gives great power but the cost – the cost is abominable. Those people were willing to risk everything to defeat it. I didn’t know them but they were very brave. Very brave. They knew what they were risking and they did it anyway. And the madness – madness claimed more. I could help some but others… they were lost. I don’t know if they ever recovered. I don’t think so.”

  “And you? What cost to you?” I looked up, sharply. If I didn’t know better I would have thought he knew. But how could he?

  “What about you?” I responded. “You weren’t there. Where were you?” Another shadow flickered across his face.

  “I was in Benoic[14],” he replied. Suddenly, I realised the price he had paid for helping me, all those years ago. He had been exiled. Somehow, they had found out that he had helped me.

  “Amergin intervened to spare me death or expulsion from the order but I was exiled.” I hadn’t known but I was still deeply apologetic. “It was going to be for life but the Ballaugh changed that. My accusers were all dead. Or insane. The core of our craft had been shattered. There were so few left,” he said, and looked down. Some shadows in a corner of the room caught my attention for a moment. I was drawn back when he continued speaking. “I was needed. So the exile was lifted. But you – what did it cost you?”

  I had been hurt, as badly as if I had taken a physical beating. I needed time to recover but my safe passage only applied for a short time. Without Diarmuid and Amergin to speak up for me I couldn’t stay and recover on Innis Vannin. I was taken to Ynys Witrin[15]; the women there restored me to health.” I almost mentioned Morwenna and Siân, the daughter we conceived together, but something else occurred to me. “Were you not called?” I asked Ieuan. He shook his head, and so then did I. “Strange. We needed every ounce of help we could get.”

  “I might not have been here if I had,” he said.

  “Of course you would. You are a Healer; you wouldn’t have been in the front line of the battle.”

  “Yes,” he replied, sharply. “Just a Healer. I would have been kept out of harm’s way.”

  “Ieuan, being a Healer is a great thing – greater than my own Gift, I think. I was needed for a day; long after I had gone and been forgotten, people would have been praising you. I might have gained some respect – probably fearful; you would have gained their love.” A thought seemed to occur to me but it danced, tantalisingly, just out of my reach; I couldn’t quite bring it into focus. Ieuan spoke again and I stopped bothering about it.

  “It took you some time to recover – longer than you thought? What did it do to your character?” I squirmed a little at this, in embarrassment.

  “Not much good. Once I recovered I began to think of myself as invincible. I wasn’t the best swordsman but no-one could beat me. I wasn’t a king but no opposing army could overcome the forces I helped. If I wanted a woman I could have one. I killed for the slightest offence. I lost empathy. I became very arrogant, and my arrogance led to my defeat. It nearly killed me.”

  “I thought it had killed you. I thought you were dead, long since. It was only yesterday that I learned you were still alive. The troop came to the castle to tell us you were on your way and I realised that it was you.�
�� He paused and then went on. “I heard that you’d died years ago. At that battle when Northumbria beat Mercia and got itself domination over the English – the Winwaed.” He looked away momentarily, and rubbed his neck again. I wondered for the briefest of moments and then told him how I was nearly killed but instead went mad and ran off into the hills.

  “When I came out of my madness I had no idea where I had been.” He asked where I had emerged and what had brought me round. “In the mountains of Rheged[16], more than a hundred miles from Winwaed. It was Padhraig who brought me out – my friend who died last night. I mentioned it, I think? No matter if I didn’t. It was he who managed it. He tempted me out with food, like the savage beast I had become.”

  “But you survived the madness. Most people don’t. Most people are paralysed with fear.” Something bothered me. Something about what he’d just said. Before I could think about it he asked me what had happened at the Winwaed, how I had been beaten.

  “The Northumbrians – Oswy’s army – had three Seers with it. I think they were Seers, because they were able to attack me in the Otherworld. And they were able to keep themselves hidden.” I explained that I had been shot at by an archer I couldn’t even see, while I was inhabiting a pigeon and spying on Oswy’s camp. “I confronted two of them and beat them. They weren’t very skilled. What I do know is…” I took a breath. “They were using human sacrifice. I could feel the impact, every time a life was snuffed out, and they grew in power whenever it happened. It was shocking. Truly shocking. I think that gave them a Seer’s power. But it was, in the end, no match for mine.”