by Jack Whyte
Tressa's right elbow dug into my ribs as she laid her left hand over mine. "You are staring at another woman, Caius Merlyn. Should I be jealous?"
I started and turned towards her, reaching up to touch her cheek. "Forgive me, love, I didn't think you'd notice." Then I smiled and shook my head briefly. "I was wondering about Arthur, how he'll behave when Morag leaves again."
She glanced towards Arthur. "It will be different this time," she said quietly. "That first time, they had barely met, only to lose each other immediately. This time, they have had weeks together. Although they've been inseparable, they have known from the first that they had but little time, and that your return would see them parted again. They will have made their plans to meet again. You'll see, my love. There will be no anger at this parting. Sorrow, perhaps, but no anger."
She was very close to me, and I could smell the fragrant scents of her clean hair and the aromatic herbs she carried in a tiny, sweet smelling bag upon her breast. Filled with warmth and love for her, I dropped my hand to her thigh, beneath the table, but withdrew it hastily after a single squeeze of the soft, pliant fullness. This evening was not yet over, and if I were to come through it successfully, I needs must keep my mind distracted from the pleasures so tantalizingly close at hand. She noticed the withdrawal and smiled at me.
"Be patient, love. How much more talk must you indulge in after dinner?"
I exhaled noisily. "Little, I hope. I may speak with Bishop Enos for a while, but the Northumbrian envoys I will meet tomorrow. So, Bishop Enos first, for a short time—and then I have affairs to bring to your attention. Grave matters of a compelling urgency, with which I hope you will help me to deal smoothly and quickly."
Her smile grew wider. "Quickly? Well, perhaps at first. Smoothly? That I can promise you. But you had best reserve some large amount of time for all, Commander Merlyn. I promise you, I intend to detain you at my pleasure... and at yours."
She picked up my nerveless hand and gently kissed the back of it, pressing it against her pouted lips to let me feel and know their fullness. I cleared my throat loudly and pushed back my chair, stooping to bring my mouth against her ear as I did so, my whole awareness filled with the warm, sweet smell of her.
"This is intolerable," I whispered. "More than flesh can bear. If you will give me leave, I'll speak to Bishop Enos now, in the hope that what he has to say to me might be brief enough to let me turn immediately to... this."
She inclined her head, smiling gently, and I made my way immediately to where the venerable bishop sat among his peers.
Enos saw me approaching and began to rise, but I waved him back to his seat. I came up behind him mid laid my hand on his shoulder, conscious of the curiosity in the eyes of all the other bishops, who took stock of me before turning away to make pretence, at least, of leaving us alone to speak in private.
The old man bent his body to the side and sat gazing up at me, his face at repose in a gentle, welcoming smile as he waited for me to speak.
"Forgive me, Bishop Enos, if it seemed I was neglecting you. I know you have information for me—"
He cut me short, raising one hand to stem my words as his smile widened. "It is I, it would appear, who should be asking your forgiveness, Caius Merlyn. My tidings are for you alone, that is true, but there is no looming urgency that you should leave your table and come seeking me like this. I regret that you should have been given any impression otherwise. You are fresh home, to fresh responsibilities, and your time is precious. Believe me when I say there is no need for haste between you and me. You have kings and men of high position here, waiting upon your pleasure, and you must fit your timing to their needs. You are but one solitary man, and their requirements must be more than mine. I merely bring you greetings, but I promised him from whom they come that I would deliver them into your ears and your hands." I made to speak again, but he denied me with a single, gracious motion of his head. "I tell you nothing more than simple truth, Caius. I bring you greetings, and no more—no urgencies, catastrophes or pains."
"You have word from Germanus?"
"I do, from Gaul. We have just returned from there, charged with a new duty he has laid upon us. He looks upon you as one of the few fast friends he has in Britain. You will be happy to know that he is well, although careworn and overworked. I have a letter for you from him."
"I am delighted, but also curious. What duty could the Bishop of Auxerre have allocated to bishops in Britain? Surely what happens here is beyond his jurisdiction?"
Enos nodded. "That would be true, were we but dealing with the world of men, but when the matter at hand deals with men's immortal souls and their relationship to God, then earthly jurisdictions lose significance. Our friend is yet charged with responsibility for combating the teachings of the heresiarch Pelagius."
That startled me, and in my desire to learn more I asked the bishop on Enos's left to move along the bench a bit, so that I might sit. There was a whispered colloquy around the table and everyone squeezed closer to his neighbour to make room. I muttered thanks to all of them before turning back to focus my attention upon the old man.
"Pelagius? Again? I thought all that was settled?"
"So did we, when last we dealt with it. The debate was lengthy, as you might recall. Not all of the findings were resolved to everyone's satisfaction, but the conclusions reached were clear and the final dispositions were absolute; Pelagius was declared heretical and his teachings anathema. No spiritual cost or punishment would be applied to those who accepted the error of their ways and sought to correct their lives thereafter. Schools were established where the word was to be taught in clarity, according to the rules established by the Fathers of the Church. Bishops who defied the rule aid continued in the way of Pelagius were, ipso facto, excommunicate, banished from the communion of the Church and from receiving or dispensing its Sacraments. "
I made no attempt to conceal my perplexity. "I remember all of that; it was all clearly established and agreed to by the bishops in convocation. They might not have been happy with the outcome, but they all agreed, and so they bound themselves to act in accordance with the tenets of the Fathers. I was there. I may not have understood all that was going on, but I clearly recall the outcome of it all, since Germanus himself explained it to me. It was final. Whence, then, and what, this new difficulty?"
Enos looked down to the wooden platter that lay before him on the table and I followed his glance. The platter was clean and bare, save for a few small bones from the wing of some fowl and a scattering of breadcrumbs. He had eaten lightly. Now he reached out and pressed one finger on a few crumbs, transferring them into his mouth. It was a slow, contemplative gesture. Finally he sighed and looked at me again.
"Do you remember Agricola—the bishop, not the soldier?"
I frowned, searching my memory and thrusting aside all thoughts of Julius Agricola of antiquity. "Bishop Agricola? Aye, I met him, I believe, in Verulamium, in Vortigern's encampment, if my memory is not playing tricks. The two were friends, although not close. Is that the man you mean?'
"It is. He was—and remains—foremost among the teachers of the Pelagian belief. Vortigern, who sympathized with the teachings although he never openly espoused the creed or became a Pelagian himself, permitted Agricola to live and teach within his lands He had a close confidant and colleague, Fastidius. Did you meet him?"
"No, I don't believe so. Why?"
"Both Agricola and Fastidius were students of Pelagius in their youth. Aged men now, both of them, they still cling to those beliefs they absorbed from him as youths and teach his tenets in defiance of all else. "
"But that is infamous. They are men of God and they swore, publicly, to accept the decree of the convocation in Verulamium. Revoking that acceptance would open diem to charges of perfidiousness and hypocrisy. They would certainly suffer excommunication. "
I was aware now that the other bishops about me were listening openly to what we were saying, and Enos looked across the
table to one of them and sighed, shaking his head. As he did so, a fresh noise broke out towards the front of the hall, where a group of Connor's musicians had entered and were tuning their instruments, preparing to present an entertainment. Enos stretched out his hand and took my wrist, an expression upon his face that I could read only as resignation. He nodded once again and indicated the musicians.
"You have brought me thus far, Caius Merlyn, so now I must accompany you for the remainder of the way. Will you walk outside with me? In a few more moments it will be impossible to talk in here. "
I rose and followed him out into the yard, winking and smiling to Tress as I passed by and indicating with a wave of my hand that I was leaving but that she should wait for me.
Once we had left the noisy hall and entered the cool silence of the empty courtyard, Enos led me over to a long, low bench against the northern wall, where he seated himself and spread his robes, wrapping his outer cloak across his shoulders to ward off the slight chill of the autumn evening.
"Now, " he said, settling himself. "Where were we? You were speaking of the absurdity of a so called man of God defying his beliefs and disregarding the threat of excommunication"
"Yes. It seems ridiculous."
"And so it is." He looked at me speculatively, his head cocked slightly to one side. "I hope you will forgive me if I seem to speak in ignorance, Caius Merlyn, but we do not know each other well, we two. I was your aunt Luceiia's confessor and confidant before her death, but you and I had little to do with each other. I know you met my saintly brother Germanus on the way to Verulamium, where you helped him win his impressive victory over the pagan forces who opposed him, but I suspect you know little of Pelagius or his teachings. Am I correct?"
"About Pelagius, you are. I know little of him. But I know even less about this impressive victory you describe. What are you talking about? When we first met, Germanus and his people had been trapped by raiders in an abandoned farmyard. We drove them off, fortunately without great loss to ourselves. But that was a skirmish, not a victory of any kind. After that we had no trouble anywhere, other than a minor confrontation with some would be bandits in Verulamium itself. So what is this victory you speak of?"
'The Alleluia Victory, men call it."
'The what?'
Enos held up one hand. "Allow me to explain, if I may. According to Bishop Germanus, who told me the tale in protest at what had been made of it, he and his party, perceiving themselves to be in a countryside that lacked danger, had allowed themselves to become careless. The soldiers riding with them were merely an honour guard, a relic of the Roman garrison in Gaul, who rode with Germanus and his brethren by their own choice. Germanus, as a former soldier, rode in soldier's garb, fully armed, in order to be able to protect his brethren should some dire need materialize. Nevertheless, and naturally enough, they were behaving like; clerics, not soldiers. They slept one night at an abandoned farm, and awoke to find themselves surrounded by a roving; war band of Picts and Saxons. The bishops thought they were about to die when out of the morning sky came a hail of deadly arrows, fired from a distant cliff above the farm. The missiles, which were accurate and lethal, wrought havoc among the enemy and forced them to abandon their attack and to charge uphill towards the new aggressors. That withdrawal, in turn, enabled Germanus to lead his men safely out of the entrapment of the farm's stone walls. Then, once his fellow bishops were safe, he led his few riders to attack the rear of his former assailants.
"You, I know, were one of the bowmen on that distant cliff, and with two others you distracted the enemy. In the meantime, you had also sent your cavalry around to enter the valley to the north and then charge back southward to give succour to the farm's defenders. The raiding force was demoralized completely, and they broke up into small groups, easily disposed of. " He stopped, and gazed at me, smiling. "Is that as accurate as your recollection of what happened that day?"
"Precisely, save that I saw it from the vantage point on the cliff top and missed the origins of the conflict, the initial surprise. " I stopped then, and shrugged. "I suppose it was a victory, of sorts. But it was not impressive. We chanced to be in the right place at the right time, with the right force, and the enemy was a rabble. All else was inevitable. " I hesitated. "So how did it come to be called the Alleluia Victory?"
Now Enos laughed, a slight, almost frail sound. "Bishops, men of God, are nonetheless men in every other sense. You saw nothing impressive in the affair—a mere skirmish with a raiding enemy, as you have said, effectively concluded with few losses. But the bishops, Caius Merlyn, the bishops! What they saw was altogether different. Imagine it—the identical scene—from their viewpoint.
"They had travelled far, much farther and for a much longer period of time than most of them were used to. They made camp in a pleasant valley, sheltered among some ruined walls, and after praying long into the night, they took their rest, only to awake to find a savage death threatening them, with painted savages and bull horned Saxons screaming for their lives. Their leader and their spiritual guide, Germanus, was unable to protect them. He could lead no counterattack in safety, since there was but one exit to the place and it was held by the attackers. So the men of God fell to their knees and prayed, in terror of their lives. And as they prayed, a rain of arrows fell from Heaven and began to destroy the enemy, who turned and withdrew. Mere moments later their champion and fellow bishop, Germanus, led them to safety beyond the walls that had so quickly become their prison. He left them with an escort, to protect them arid led his own contingent of warriors to attack the rear of their fleeing attackers. The last word that he cried aloud before leading his men to the charge was Alleluia—Praise be to God.
"No sooner had the badly frightened bishops fallen to their knees to give thanks than they heard the sound of yet another charge approaching. As this new contingent of rescuers miraculously appeared and swept by them, the bishops raised the self same cry of Alleluia, which was taken up by the galloping riders who then advanced into the fray with the praises of God upon their lips... " His voice faded away and he continued to gaze at me for some time before concluding.
"So you see, my son, both parties witnessed precisely the same events, but they experienced them from widely divergent viewpoints. To the clerical brethren huddled there by that abandoned farm, their salvation was miraculous, a divine intervention in their lives. Their faith in that was, and is, implicit. You say you merely happened to be there at the right time, with the right force to aid you. They believe you were Heaven sent, to be precisely where you were at their time of greatest need. Had it not been so, Bishop Germanus would have perished there and the debate at Verulamium would never have taken place. Which version of the tale is truer? As a Christian, can you doubt theirs and believe that God was unaware of your nearness that day?"
"But... the scope of it, Enos! It was a minor squabble!"
"Ah!" His utterance was terse and dismissive. "And was the outcome minor? The debate in Verulamium? Your intervention that morning saved the bishop's life and saved the Great Debate. It served the very fabric of God's Church and brought about the undoing of a creed of heresy. Those elements transform your minor squabble into a major victory in these old eyes and in the eyes of many others, Caius Merlyn, so may we leave it at that? If modesty forbids you to acknowledge what occurred in truth, then so be it! I suppose, then, that you will be pleased to hear the tale's aftermath. " His smile broadened, provoking an answering smile upon my lips.
"And what is that, this aftermath?"
"Why, it had nothing in the least to do with you. Your name has never been mentioned, in any version of the tale. " Now he was positively grinning, ear to ear. "The Alleluia Victory belongs to the saintly Bishop Germanus alone! That is why he is so greatly vexed. He thinks that is egregiously insulting to you and outrageously flattering to him. Shall I tell him, then, that you prefer it thus?"
"Hah!" I threw back my head and laughed aloud, exulting in the old man's pleasure. "Indeed,
Bishop,, do so, fen: nothing could please me more than knowing that such an impressive victory had nothing to do with me or Camulod." He joined in my laughter. Then he leaned forward and slapped his fingers lightly on my knee.
"But we have digressed. We were speaking of other bishops and how they can seem to vacillate. I was about to comment on your knowledge of the doctrines taught by Pelagius. I said you seem to know little of them, and you agreed, did you not?" I nodded, watching him closely now, and he continued. "Do you know anything of what he taught? He had six arguments that formed the basis of his theology— are you familiar with them?"
"No, not at all. I heard them spoken of at the Debate, but understood little of it. I have been sympathetic to his teachings although unfamiliar with the meat of them, simply because an old friend of my father's, Bishop Alaric, subscribed to them, and Alaric was all that is best and finest in true men of God."
"I knew him, when I was very young, and I agree. Very well. Six points Pelagius made, and I shall keep them brief. Each of diem bore on one, or both, of two central tenets of the Christian Church: the original sin of Adam, and the divine gift of grace. Bear in mind, though, we speak of heresy here, so do not be seduced." As he began to speak, he enumerated the points he made with his fingers, starting with the little finger of his right hand.
"One, and first above all: Pelagius averred that life is inseparable from death/He taught that even if Adam had not sinned, he would have died. Two, and even more seditious: he maintained that Adam's sin was personal. It harmed only Adam himself, and not the entire human race. In case number three, which is based upon number two, he claimed that newborn children are in a state of innocence, as was Adam before his fall. Four, perhaps the most unacceptable of all his claims, he asserts that the whole human race neither dies through Adam's sin or death, nor rises again through the resurrection of our Blessed Christus. Five." He paused before stating this point, and I waited, holding my breath. "Pelagius would have us all believe that the ancient Hebrew writings, the Old Testament containing the Laws of Moses, are as sure a guide to heaven as are the Gospels..."