Culann, Celtic Warrior Monk

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Culann, Celtic Warrior Monk Page 16

by Duncan MacDonald


  Finally, they stood on the narrow beach, very small waves washing next to them. It became obvious the small craft would not take them both and their kit bags as well.

  Bye-bye food.

  While still on the sand, they tried different seating arrangements. The only one that worked was if they sat with Fergus in front, knees up and Culann behind with his legs straddling the youth.

  "We've only got one paddle." said Culann.

  "Of course we only have one paddle. It was just me to begin with, remember. Stop moaning."

  "Watch your tongue lad. Respect your elders."

  "If it wasn't for me we wouldn't have the curach."

  "If it wasn't for you we wouldn't be in this mess." A strained silence ensued for several moments.

  "Yes you are right." said Fergus. "I haven't thanked you for rescuing me either. You take the curach. I'll walk to Lindisfarne."

  Culann, suddenly embarrassed for his mean spirited approach, reached over and cuffed the youth's shoulder. [strike playfully with an open hand]

  "Oh don't mind me lad. I've been itching for a fight for weeks and you gave me the excuse. We are in this together. Let's make the best of it. We should get back to Lindisfarne before the others, and break the news about the Roman takeover."

  He held out his hand, and after a heartbeat hesitation, Fergus, with a shy smile responded and they both shook hands.

  Culann put his arm around the lad's shoulders. "Let's get this craft launched before Alhfrith's heavies come calling. All we can bring are our weapons and leather water skins . Fold them in our spare clothes."

  "We need one cup to bail the water."

  "Good thinking lad."

  After some experimenting they found the easiest way to launch into the small white crested waves was for Culann to sit in the back of curach holding the paddle, facing the shore. Fergus pushed the boat into the surf beyond the first line of breakers, then being lighter, pulled himself on board between Culann's outstretched legs. Culann then dug the paddle in to turn the boat around and began paddling furiously off shore.

  They were lucky the swell was quite small and this enabled them to improved Culann's paddling skills. After a short-time the paddle was switched to Fergus in front and Culann scooped out the water which continually filled the bottom of the craft, with the cup. Their small boat passed beyond the northern headland as the sun rose in the east.

  They paddled north along the coast all day, pausing only to swap the paddle and drink from the water skins. The clouds increased and the wind picked up from the north east so by late afternoon they decided to pull into a small sheltered cove, and make camp. They spent the night huddled around a small fire, wet, cold and hungry.

  Culann and Fergus paddled all the second day and into the night, no doubt preferring to paddle than freezing onshore. Dawn on the third day found them drifting half asleep, woken with a start by the water now sloshing about in more than a third of their boat. Culann began bailing furiously while Fergus scooped out handfuls of water, until their almost swamped little vessel bounced once again lightly on the top of the waves.

  Fergus was their navigator as Culann had absolutely no knowledge of the coastline. By the time for Terce prayers (three hours after sunrise) the familiar shape of Beblowe Craig came into view. Fergus took over the paddling and carefully guided them into the seaward beach sandwiched between the otherwise rocky foreshore.

  No one saw them stagger like drunken sailors through the surf, carrying their small bundles of clothes and water bags, and collapse on the beach. They were back on Lindisfarne.

  As the tide came in and the two still forms lay exhausted half way up the beach. Waves lapped around their abandoned curach, slowly, silently lifting it from its resting place and bit by bit carried it back out to sea.

  A group of monks herding sheep later in the afternoon saw the inert forms and while they hurried down to help, one ran back to the monastery spreading the word that two men had arrived on the island from the ocean side without any sign of boat.

  It must be a miracle.

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  8.2 Abbot Colman’s Decision

  Abbot Colmán was quiet and withdrawn. His beloved Celtic church was to be no more. The Roman devils had won. Brother Bryan, seeing Abbot Colmán was sitting in an almost trance-like state, took it upon himself to organize their departure from Whitby

  Abbot Colmán was quiet and withdrawn. He still couldn't believe the way the Synod had ended. His beloved Celtic church was to be no more. His whole life's work was now in tatters. The Roman devils had won. They, with their laws, rules and regulations, their stupid slave like tonsure, or as they pathetically called it the 'crown of thorns tonsure', their absurd calculation of Easter, and worst of all calling our beloved St Columba (may his soul rest in peace) ignorant.

  Brother Bryan, seeing Abbot Colmán was sitting in an almost trance-like state, took it upon himself to organize their departure. After the all-night long celebrations during which the lady Abbess Hilda had made sure there was a plentiful supply of mead, no one was in a hurry to do anything - except sleep.

  However, change was in the offing. Abbot Wilfred - whom one assumed didn't drink one drop of that very palatable mead - insisted on calling the faithful to prayer not only at Martins (first light) and Vespers (evening, lighting of lamps) but Prime (1st hour of daylight), Terce (3rd hour of daylight, Sext (6th hour of daylight), and None (9th hour of daylight). The Celtic monks were much more flexible regarding praying, and excused those working in the field or away from the church buildings.

  King Oswy also proclaimed that a new spiritual centre of would be established at the more easily accessible York, to begin the Romanization of all of northern Britain. It was obvious to all, that Lindisfarne's pre-eminent position as the centre of Christianity in northern Britain had become outmoded overnight, with the rejection of Abbot Colmán.

  It must be said however, that Abbot Colmán, as he bid farewell to King Oswy and Abbot Wilfred, graciously stated "In the past, when there had been contact between Celtic Christians the representatives of the Bishop of Rome, there had been conflict. Where Christians previously had not been civil to one another, and in some cases, would not even eat together, he Colmán, would ensure that there be peace."

  Abbess Hilda held tearful farewells with those monks, stating that although she had spent most of her spiritual life in the Celtic church, she would change what-ever was necessary, to now conform with the Roman way.

  It took the Lindisfarne monks a further three days before they finally bid everyone farewell and took to their two large curachs to wend their somber way home.

  During that solemn boat trip Abbot Colmán made a momentous decision. While he acknowledged Oswy had the means to impose his will on all things temporal, he could not accept that the King had the authority to rule on spiritual matters.

  Therefore, he would leave Lindisfarne forever and return to Iona, where he could practice his religion in the Celtic manner.

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  8.3 Two Selfish Men

  Culann, Fergus with Brother Bryan and Brother Bec entered the small candle lit room, Abbot Colman and three of his advisors looked up from the documents they were studying and waved them to sit on the wooden trestles in front of his desk.

  Four days after the two intrepid travelers had incredibly appeared (the miracle was discounted, after Culann and Fergus told the monks they had arrived by boat - although they were at a loss to explain how the boat disappeared), Abbot Colmán arrived. But by then, the inhabitants of Lindisfarne all knew of the momentous news regarding the outcome of the Whitby Synod.

  Disquieting word also arrived from the mainland that a number of armed soldiers had arrived on horseback. They were looking for a Celtic monk and a Pict youth, probably making their way to Lindisfarne.

  Abbot Colmán told his monks that he was aware a group of Papal [from the Pope]
representatives would be arriving shortly to exorcise [from Greek ex ‘out’ + horkus ‘oath’. To expel (evil spirits) by prayer & religious rites] all documents and relics, considered by the Church of Rome, to be heretical. Murmuring broke out on receipt of that news.

  Everyone knew the Celtic monks transcribed every manuscript they could lay their hands on; psalms, gospels, manuals, in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic - anything and everything.

  The Roman church however only allowed the copying of the Old and New Testament documents.

  It would be inconceivable that all those wonderful scrolls and codex, so lovingly compiled over the years, could be destroyed. It must not be allowed to happen.

  Yet here was the conundrum. Abbot Colmán had already given his word he would comply with Rome's doctrine. He did not believe Kings had the right to make spiritual decisions, but he had given his word. He would not be able to defy the Church of Rome while he was Abbot of Lindisfarne. But if he was not Abbot of Lindisfarne, if he was just plain Brother Colmán, and the documents were not here. Hmmm . . . but where could he take the documents?

  Where else of course, but Iona.

  As if Abbot Colmán didn't have enough problems, Brother Bryan, very agitated, repeated the rumor that soldiers were looking for Culann. When Culann was told, he said he was not going to run away. 'If the soldiers wanted him, they could come here and try and take him'.

  "And Abbot Colmán, he was polishing his sword as he told me that." related Bryan.

  Abbot Colmán threw his hands in the air. Why does everything always happen at once. Now visiting Brother Bec had arrived, and after learning of the danger to his charge Fergus, was demanding safe conduct for the lad back to his clan, as he was placed here under the protection of the Monastery.

  Culann and Fergus met two evenings later accompanied by Brother Bryan and Brother Bec. They had been summoned by Abbot Colmán to his office. Fergus stated glumly "This doesn't look good does it? The Abbot is upset because we caused that problem in Whitby. I hear we will be asked to leave."

  Culann remained silent as they all strode to the appointed meeting place. They entered the small candle lit room. Abbot Colmán and three of his advisors looked up from documents they were studying, and waved them to sit on the wooden trestles immediately in front of his desk. They sat in silence while the Abbot continued reading.

  Eventually the Abbot looked up. "Brothers in God, we are entering very difficult times for our church. The most serious threat to our very existence has been caused by the events in Whitby." Culann and Fergus looked at each other. This was not a good beginning.

  Two men have caused this situation. The good work that has been carried out at Lindisfarne for over twenty years is now threatened - all because of the selfish interests of two men." he paused. The sound of a candle spitting could suddenly be heard.

  "I have decided that I can no longer remain as Abbot of this monastery." shocked silence. "I will notify everyone tomorrow that I will resign and remove myself to Iona."

  Then everybody started talking at once. "No Holy Father, please don't." shouted Brother Bryan over all the tumult. "I'm sure we can ask those two men to recant and do penance." looking at Culann and Fergus.

  "Abbot Colmán suddenly snapped out of his semi trance-like state. "Recant! Penance! Don't talk nonsense Brother. These men answer to no one for their actions." He looked around the assembled group, as if suddenly realizing there was perhaps some grave misunderstanding.

  "I am speaking of King Oswy, who cares more about St Peter not allowing him entry to heaven when he dies, and Abbot Wilfred who cares more about expanding his position in the Church of Rome, than his British parishioners!" thundered Abbot Colmán.

  The collective exhaling of breath from most of those present could be clearly heard.

  "I ask you all to keep this confidential until I announce my decision to all monks’ tomorrow." A confused murmuring spread around the room. "Ahhh, . . . you are all wondering why I asked you here this evening." Abbot Colmán eased himself back in his chair. "We have some wonderful codex and relics here at Lindisfarne. I will not allow them to fall into the hands of the Church of Rome. I will take them to Iona.

  "That will take some time to arrange and I am mindful that not all the monks at Lindisfarne view the Celtic Church as we do. They may try to disrupt or delay our labors.

  "Therefore I have decided to remove the most valuable codex this very evening, before anyone is aware of my plan to go to Iona. I have thought hard and long as to who I shall entrust this sacred duty. There are twelve codex I consider irreplaceable. Twelve, the same number as our Lord's disciples. Twelve, the same number of monks who accompanied our beloved Saint Columba when he first set out from Hibernia (Ireland) to Iona over one hundred years ago.

  "I need two exceptional men who can travel quickly through the countryside to Iona carrying these codex. We will use our special leather robes with pockets sown inside and concealed under our normal habits. Each has room for six codex.

  "To ensure speed and security, our special couriers will travel together, but without any entourage. [people accompanying or attending an important person. (from French entourer meaning 'to surround')] They need to have proven that they can complete difficult journeys in the past. We have no margin for error here. The men we need Brothers are right here in the room. I speak of course of Brother Culann and Master Fergus. Your journey back from Whitby, evading all pursuers and in record time, has not gone unnoticed.

  "Will you both accept this challenge to carry our most precious copies of the world of knowledge, to our far flung sanctuary, Iona? It cannot be one, it must be both" asked Abbot Colmán.

  Culann sat dumbfounded at the dramatic change of events. He came to this meeting fully prepared to be asked to resign from the order in disgrace. Instead it was the Abbot Colmán who was resigning, and he was being charged to perform a mission of great honor. To deliver the most precious books in Lindisfarne to Iona.

  "I will go Holy Father, and protect the codex with my life" said Culann.

  "Me too" beamed Fergus. What an adventure.

  And so it came to be, that Culann and Fergus were the first bearers of the most priceless books from Lindisfarne. Both charged with making that perilous journey through now hostile territory to Iona. Little were they aware of the tribulations and danger that lay ahead.

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  Chapter 9 - St Abbs

  Pamp the Irish Bard at St. Abbs

  It was still dark as the small group of monks from the scriptorium quietly brought out the long leather book bags complete with the valuable codex securely sewn in each pocket. These leather containers were placed over the shoulders of Culann and Fergus, then laced together under the arms and at the waist. Culann slung his sword and scabbard over his back and shoulder.

  Fergus pulled on his checked trousers tied at the waist with strong cord. Both then donned undyed cream-colored woolen habits, hoods thrown back and tied at the waist with a leather belt. From the belt hung a few pouches containing their wooden eating bowl, mug, spoon and knife. Fergus also strapped on his shorter sword outside his habit while Culann's of course was hidden from view. Culann also collected his thick wooden staff, which was just slightly taller than a man. Each had an additional soft food sack draped over their shoulder, which also containing a fresh set of clothes. They were ready to go.

  While this activity was going on in the scriptorium, Brother Bec of St Ninian's sought out Brother Bryan. "Brother Bryan I am concerned that my charge, young Fergus, is journeying such a long way from his homeland with just one monk for protection. He was originally sent to Lindisfarne to study, not to engage on what I consider a frivolous trek to transport documents which can more easily sent by cart or curach to Iona."

  "I agree Brother Bec. However, I think you are missing the point Abbot Colmán has subtly grasped. Both Culann and Fergus are now wanted by Prince Alhfrith and his Angle soldiers
. They have men even as we speak stationed at the other end of the causeway, waiting to assassinate both Culann and Fergus. We are also hearing that an Anglo-British army is raiding north beyond the Firth of Forth, creating much destruction as they go.

  "The adherents of the Church of Rome will come shortly to Lindisfarne accompanied by the Angles. Neither Culann or Fergus will be safe here then. I know Culann has too much pride to be seen running from his enemies. He will stay, and in doing so will be killed. The same fate awaits young Fergus as this is not Pictish territory.

  "Abbot Colmán has sought to solve this dilemma by giving both men a heroic task. They have undertaken this task. It is highly probable they will not succeed, given the odds against them, but if they do not go, they most certainly will die."

  Brother Bryan finished and both men remained silent for a while.

  "Then I will go north to Fortriu and enlist the help of the Picts there." said Bec, extending his hand in farewell to Bryan.

  Culann and Fergus gathered with Bryan on the northern seaward beach, Brother Bec had already left the previous day. They had agreed the best plan was to go by boat north to the river Forth, proceed upstream, then go overland, retracing their original steps to Dumbarton.

  If they left before dawn, there was little chance they would be seen from the mainland as it was overcast and raining. The Abby had arranged for a curach with two sailors to take them to the Firth of Forth.

  Farewells were said and the four figures in the small boat disappeared through the low surf into a rain-squall.

  * * * *

  The rain stopped just after dawn and although the swell increased they made good time. The mouth of the Tweed River came into view just after midday. The rain in patches came back again making all members of the boat cold and miserable. Culann and Fergus swapped rowing duties with the sailors from time to time, so everyone could rest a while. It was in fact warmer rowing than just sitting and bailing water from the bottom of the curach.

 

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