Culann, Celtic Warrior Monk
Page 22
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10.2 Saving Lives
Just then Culann’s back arched and his whole body went rigid. “I can’t open his mouth. His teeth and jaws are locked together.” said Hesus. “Oh no,” cried Fea, “what can we do?”
“It must be the wound. I wonder if we poured the whiskey on the wound would it stop the pain or put it to sleep?” murmured Hesus.
Fea was in command once more "Bring me a candle.". Sister Tamara held the candle near Culann’s face, while Fea stroked his forehead with one hand, and carefully pulled back one of his eyelids. The blue eye stared out of focus, but, just for a brief instant, Fea thought there was a flash of recognition, then the eye rolled back into its socket.
Fea sat straight up." We have work to do ladies." In the next hour, Culann was washed in warm water, force fed some broth and his wound cleaned in the special salt water. His pulse was very slow and sometimes intermittent.
Fea conferred with Hesus. "The wound must be the trouble. Even though it is closed, the edges are yellow with pus and proud flesh."
"Yes," said Hesus, "and there is that nasty red lump in his right arm pit. That's a sign that there is poison in his blood. Do you think we should bleed him? "
"I think he has lost a lot of blood already. He looks so pale. I think the problem is in his wound. We have only cleaned the outside. There may be something inside." said Fea.
"But we don't know how deep it is. It looks like a spear wound." said Hesus.
"If we don't do something, I'm afraid he will die." said Fea. "I'm going to slice that damn lump under his arm."
So Fea and her girls carefully washed Culann's arm pit. Fea took her bronze scalpel, and sliced open the abscess. They initially all reeled back from the putrid smell that emanated from the wound. They washed it, smeared it with garlic, and finally applied a mustard poultice.
Next Fea probed the chest wound. It was not very wide and she gingerly prized open the grey-white proud flesh. It only bled a little as she washed it with special warm sea water. At the bottom of the wound, which was less than her finger in depth, she found some other material. It was not flesh. She pulled it out with her tweezers. It was a small piece of vellum - calf skin.
Not content to do things by halves, she began scrapped the grey-white flesh away. Culann suddenly shuddered and groaned agonizingly. One arm thrashed about. Fea stopped. "Hold his arms and legs. He must be in great pain." She wiped his brow. He moaned and rolled his head left and right.
"Brother Hesus, do you have any of your Whiskey handy?"
"Right here Sister Fea. "said Hesus.
"Can you give some to Culann."
Hesus took Culann's head in his hands and tipped the whiskey bladder to his mouth. The whiskey sloshed over his face. "I can't."
"What do you mean - you can't?"
"I can't open his mouth. His teeth and jaws are locked together."
Just then Culann's back arched and his whole body went rigid.
"Oh no." cried Fea. "He must be in too much pain. What can we do?"
"It must be the wound. "said Hesus. "I wonder if the whiskey will stop the pain, or put it to sleep, if we pour it on the wound instead. "
"Do you think so? "asked Fea, now desperately worried.
"We have nothing to lose lassie. Let's try it. Hold the wound open." Fea delicately held open the spear wound and Hesus poured the neat whiskey into the wound. It filled and spilt down over Culann's chest. Culann bucked violently, then lay still.
"Close the wound lassie. We can only wait and see now."
* * * *
By this time Fergus was awake and eating ravenously. He related to the nuns most of what had transpired since he had first met Culann in Lindisfarne, until they landed here on Veridis Insular.
"What do you mean 'Veridis Insular'." asked Sister Tamara. "this is Lios mòr."
"Oh, the Picts call this island Veridis Insular." said Hesus. "It means 'green island', which is appropriate, I guess."
During the rest of the day Fea sat beside Culann. His pulse was still weak, but his breathing became steadier. By night time Fea could prize open his teeth a little, enough to give him some more broth and water. During the night Culann began moaning and sometimes calling out.
"That's what he was calling out when we were on the way here - 'Fear'." said Fergus.
"That's not 'fear', " said Tamara, nodding to the nun wiping Culann's brow and occasionally weeping. "He's calling for Fea."
"Oh," said Fergus, surprised, "How does he know Sister Fea?"
Tamara smiled, "You'll have to ask him."
* * * *
By Lauds on day two, Culann had not regained consciousness, but seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Fea remained at his side, refusing to leave, fearful some crisis may develop the moment she left.
Sometime in the late afternoon she must have dozed off. She woke with a start to find Culann gazing at her with a look of wonderment. "I thought you were dead." he whispered.
"I thought you were dead." she cried and embraced him.
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10.3 A Proper Job
Just then a beam of sunlight came through the window, bathing Culann and Fea in its golden light.
An omen for a brighter future ?
Fergus sat on Culann’s pallet, updating him on the events of the past four days.
"Where are the codex?" asked Culann.
"They are outside in the sunshine." said Fergus. "The sisters have kindly spread them out to dry. Don't worry, as soon as you are well enough, we will deliver them to Iona. I'm told it is only a day's sail from here."
"What happened to Gille Dhu?"
"The last I saw of him, he and his companions were madly paddling up the loch in two curachs, away from a mob on the shore. I'm sure he got away, back to his Dun on Loch Earn." said Fergus.
"He's a good man. I hope he is all right." said Culann. Fea interrupted their conversation, insisting Culann lay back and rest.
Word spread quickly of the arrival of Culann and Fergus on Lios mòr, and their epic journey from Lindisfarne through Angle and Pictish territory. And, with each telling, the facts seemed to be slightly embellished. [to make a story more interesting by adding details which may not be true (old French embelir)]
Day four, saw the arrival of none other than Cumméne, Abbott of Iona, with a small retinue of monks. He hurried to see Culann, who was now walking short distances, in the infirmary.
"Brother Culann" called Cumméne, arms open to embrace Culann, who was sitting on one of the pallets. Culann, surprised, rose to greet his Abbot. "My son, as soon as I heard of your tribulations, I insisted we come visit. Sit, sit, - Brothers, bring us something to drink." waiving his hand in the air to no one in particular.
"What happened at Whitby? Did the Romans really win the day? Is it true Lindisfarne is closing? I have heard you brought valuable codex for Iona. Did a Pict girl and boy really slay a company of Anglo warriors?" asked Cumméne, staccato fashion.
Culann sat, drew a deep breath, looked up and down the line of monks, and replied "Yes."
Of Culann, it could be said, if he had the option of describing something using ten words or two, he would most likely end up using just two, or in this case; one.
There was a moment of stunned silence, then everyone started talking at once.
The bedlam was interrupted by Sister Fea walking into the infirmary, one hand holding a cup of medicine, the other held high as a sign of silence.
"Quiet. Quiet I said!" the conversations ceased and all looked at this young nun as she regally walked to Culann's side, took him by his good arm and led him back to his own pallet.
"This man needs his medication, and rest".
"But, but, this is the Abbott of Iona. He's come all this way to see Culann." stammered one of the monks.
"I don't care if he's the Archangel Gabriel." said
Fea irreverently. "This is my patient, and I decide when he can have visitors, and for how long." Culann stood for moment, looked around the assembly, then shrugged his shoulders sheepishly as he was led back to his pallet.
"Find the young Pict, Fergus." said one of the Lios mòr monks, "He can tell you the details." An unseemly exit by the monks resulted as they scrambled to find Fergus.
* * * *
It was day break. Fea was sitting next to Culann's pallet in the infirmary. Culann awoke and looked at her. She smiled. "Brother Culann, I've been thinking about you." Fea paused, "We can't have you continually running around the countryside, causing havoc like you have recently. We have to get you a proper job, don't you think?
"If I did get a 'proper job'," said Culann cautiously, "would you stay with me?"
"That thought had crossed my mind." smiled Fea, "but what would you do, apart from annihilating Angles, putting an end to Picts, and slaying Scotti?"
Culann, suddenly serious said "But you're a nun. Aren't you married to the Church?"
"That's the Roman Church talking. We belong to the Celtic Church; it's much more flexible. We nuns have been known to leave the order, and get married, if they meet the right man."
"If they meet the right man, and he is able to support them, and their family." added Culann.
"You do have a way with words, Master Culann." smiled Fea.
"My father was a Smith." said Culann.
"And?" said Fea.
"I've been thinking."
"Yes?"
"I think I could become a Smith."
"And make swords?" said Fea, frowning.
"No, I would like to make jeweler and ornaments. I have seen some designs in the scriptoriums that I think I could make."
Fea reached over, took his hand in hers, and squeezed.
Just then, a beam of sunlight came through the window, and bathed them both in its golden glow.
Fea said smiling "It must be an omen for our brighter future."
FINIS
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About the Author
Photo by Melbourne The Photographer
Duncan is an Australian currently living in Jakarta, Indonesia. He is married to Shinta Dewi Sanawiya, muse, mate, motivator and President Director of the business he founded in 1993, dMAC Group in Asia.
Duncan has had a passion for history since childhood. He travelled to Turkey in 1975 to visit ANZAC Cove, scene of Australia and New Zealand’s entry to World War I. He then worked for 5 years in London, enabling him to research the Roman Empire’s occupation of Britain and the Arthurian legends. He has written this historical novel with the hope that particularly younger people, if they find it interesting enough to finish, as a bonus will have acquired valuable knowledge about a fascinating era.
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End Notes
My special thanks to Frank Tait and his brother Stuart in North Berwick, for supplying me rare old books relating to early Celtic history. I am grateful to Dr Richard Tomlins for his expert oversight, particularly on the medical aspects related in this book. Also thank you to brother Warwick and sister Julianne, her hubby Peter Scott, plus the many friends who have critically reviewed earlier editions and given their suggestions, corrections and comments.
Any mistakes contained herein are mine alone.
A friend once asked me why I was writing a book about the 7th century. I replied “Because not much has been written about that period.”
His acid response “There’s probably a good reason for that Duncan.”
Hopefully this book sheds a little light on a period often referred to as ‘the dark ages’.
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Discover other books by Duncan MacDonald
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