Saints & Sinners

'That cross is of a curious design.' Eogan observed openly, nodding towards the pendent worn by his new friend. 

'This? I designed it myself.'

'I could have sworn it was crafted by a Gael.'

'It was, there is a small population of Christian Gales on Britannia now. I'm sure you're aware the crucifix bears great spiritual significance to Christians. I decided to combine the symbol with one that has a great deal of spiritual significance to the Gaelic pagans, that symbol being the sun.' Padraig spoke with a prideful inflection. 'By preserving the old traditions and combining them with the new, the people will be less resistant to the Word of God.' 

'I can promise you one thing, my father is very fond of tradition. I doubt he would be accept a watering down of his ways... here we are.' Eogan added as the two men topped the crest of a hill. With the view now clear, Padraig was treated to his first glimpse of Na Emain. He feigned his admiration, being well enough traveled to have seen more remarkable specimens, but his pretense was enough to dupe Eogan. 

---

Eogan led Padraig in the the dark and sombre roundhouse. Niall was hunched over the fire, Malgarb lurked in the corner tending to Fragarach. His brother Fiachre was speculating loudly on the next location for a raid, whilst Ailill insisted they should return to Alt Clut and take further advantage of their cowardly nature. Niall was no longer paying attention, his eyes became fixed on Padraig as his mind turned to the prophesy espoused by various divining druids. This man fit the profile, with his religious robes and his shepherd's crook. Though Niall was suspicious, he quickly ascertained that the man was not carrying a weapon and presented no immediate threat. 

'My King, it truly is an honour to be presented with this opportunity to meet you face-to-face!' Padraig exclaimed as he took to his knees. Niall's companions laughed heartily at the sight before them, even Eogan found some humour in all the theatrics. 

'Stand. Do not embarrass yourself further.' Niall's tone was stern. 

'We have met before, my King. When we were barely men.' 

'We have?' Niall stood himself now, Fiachre and Ailill circled in, hands on hilts. It was not uncommon for somebody to remind the King of some past transgression before making an attempt on his life. 

'Err... Yes.' Padraig took a step back, slightly shaken. 'Fear not, my King. I intend no ills. For if it were not for you I would never have been entreated to a vision of Our Heavenly Father.'

'He's a Christian.' Niall said to his lieutenants, chuckling. The atmosphere became instantly less tense, the Gaels felt no threat from meek Christians. 

'I stand before you today, to appeal to your well-regarded generosity of spirit. I humbly request permission to establish local monasteries and convents. I feel that should we be so enabled as to promote our presence on your fair isle, we could benefit your people greatly. We can bring new medicines, the newest cutting-edge technologies (quite literally), we can teach people to read and write. No longer should you have to draw your battle-plans on the sands of a beach. I recognise, you would be unwilling to neglect the Gods of your ancestors, but I...'

'The Gods are my ancestors.' Niall brazenly interrupted. 

'There is only one God...' Padraig began, but decided upon a more diplomatic response, 'but I am not asking you to accept the word of God so suddenly, nor at all, but instead ask that you allow me to help the people of this land and, ultimately, aid your own noble causes.'

'Hmm...' Niall leaned backwards as he pondered his response.

'He should be working the fields, not disturbing the King.' Ailill hissed from the back of the room.

'Fine. I will allow you to establish your settlements on my lands. In return you must pay a small tithe, a token of servitude to your mortal King. I may be lenient for the first few years, but should you fail to pay consistently I will have no option but to sack your buildings and enslave your people. Am I understood?'

A blustery wind threatened to shake Eogan from his feet as he stood upon the hill in his recently conquered lands. Innis Eogan, as it was thus known, was not an island as its name suggests, but a peninsula. This particular pennisula was the largest Eogan had ever encountered. The hill on which he stood stretched beyond the sky, almost a mile higher than the sea below. The days were long this time of the year, the solstice was well upon them but darkness was approaching, with the wind carrying a penetrating chill. He was not alone on this hill. Padraig had managed the construction of a well at the hill top, an impressive venture. Next to this was a large container of fresh water, beside which knelt Conall mac Niell, Eogan's younger brother.

They were accompanied by around thirty men, all minor Kings in their own right yet still subject to the sons of Niall. Several of them began to raise a few standing stones to celebrate the life-giving nature of the sun, a necessity during the solstice. These stones were, however, very different to those elsewhere. The great craftsmen of hibernia had worked day and night for weeks to raise a crucifix, carved entirely from stone and featuring Padraig's addition of the sun to the symbology. Immaculately patterned, the details portrayed scenes from recognisable mythology, as well as the tales, proverbs and prophesies espoused by the Briton priest. Padraig recited a verse from his 'Holy Book,' shepherd's crook in one hand and a flaming torch in the other. He personally ignited the scattered pyres, indicating the start of the ceremony. The various Kings assembled by Conall and knelt, while Eogan himself kept his distance, preferring to observe

'Conall of Gulban, son of Niall Noigiallach and Under-King of Tir Conall, do you recognise your multitudinous sins?' Padraig said, placing his hand of the young man's head.

'I do'

'As a sworn agent of Our Lord, I can vouch for this man's truth. He has confessed his sins before God and has demonstrated his desire to repent.' Padraig had told Eogan that it was commonplace in Briton and the Roman Empire to publicly announce one's sins and in one move confess and repent. Though Padraig considered his divine inspiration to have been a private matter between only himself and God with no witnesses other than the sheep he slaved to tend. In that light he firmly believed public confessions to be unnecessarily theatrical, if a man is willing to accept God, only The Almighty can judge his honesty.  

'Conall of Gulban,' Padraig continued, 'I thus immerse you in the fair waters of this land, as you arise, so shall you as a son returned to his father, a lamb returned to its flock, a true Christian subject of The Lord Our God.' As Padraig finished speaking he pulled Conall from the water. As the young man gasped for air, he announced he could physically feel the light of The Lord shine over him. This intrigued Eogan, he had assumed the process be merely symbolic of the washing away of sins. One after one, the tribal chiefs of Innis Eogan were baptised, and each of them were overcome with divine merriment. Eogan, not an unintelligent individual, began to ponder more deeply on Padraig's riveting tales about this character Jesus Christ. 

Eogan was seated upon a large wooden chair. He had commissioned it upon hearing it was custom in Britain and on the continent for Kings to be seated upon thrones. Padraig was sat nearby, scanning over his Bible. Eogan noticed Padraig had been fixated on a particular passage and inquired as to the content. 

'It is not the content that is troubling my mind.' Padraig replied. 'I am trying to derive the meaning of one particular word.' 

'Ah.' Eogan chuckled. 'My father grew up with a poet, he often remarked that men of words instilled certain meanings into their language that others could not imagine. I suppose it must be the same with the written language as well.'

'It is not that my King... I... sometimes struggle to read the Latin.' 

'Oh.' Eogan had considered Padraig to be a highly intelligent individual. 

'You see, my time as a slave may have delivered me to God, but I lost much time where I could have experienced a formal education. I had to teach myself, for the most part. And teaching oneself from a position of ignorance is not always easy.' Noting the awkward silence following this revelation Padraig attempted to jest his way out of it. 'You should see my written Latin! It's even worse. Though one day I'll show them, I'll write my own book. Possibly follow Augustine and pen my own Confessio.' Following a brief moment of silence, both men began to laugh raucously, though neither really understood why.

'My King?' A man, whose name Eogan had struggled in vain to commit to memory, entered the Hall. 'There is a priest from the continent here, he claims to know Padraig.' 

'What name did he give?' Eogan asked.

'Palladius, my King.' And with that, Padraig's smile vanished once again. 

---

Palladius arrived in the hall. He was not as tall as Padraig, nor as lean, and radiated a grandeur which contrasted with Padraig's simple serenity. 'King Eogan,' he began, 'I have been sent here by Pope Innocent himself, to provide vital church leadership to those few Christians residing in this... err... fair isle, and also to relieve Patricius of his self-appointed task.' Eogan had heard Padraig speak of the organised Church in Europa, though his friend had always shied away from the subject. 

'Relieve me?' Padraig responded aghast, before Eogan had a chance to reply.

'Ah, Patricius. Has he told you his sob story? Or has he told you the truth about his past?' Palladius directed his questions at Eogan. 'I presume the former. Patricius is an upstart, a dangerous man who has ascended above the station intended for him by God. Patrick the Unworthy, we called him. Most of the clergy opposed his appointment as Bishop. I imagine he told you the story of his slavery and subsequent conversion, how he escaped from his captors and boarded a vessel back to Britannia?' 

Eogan responded simply with a nod as he leaned forward, curious as to what the Priest had to say.

'Well, I suppose he failed to mention that it took him three years to get back to his family and find a path to the priesthood?'

'My King, this man has nothing of interest to say.' Padraig interjected. 

'He spent this time with Pagan Raiders, pillaging the shores of Christendom and forsaking his own professed belief in The Lord.' 

'I had no choice.' Padraig said sternly. 

'Ah, but you did. Any true Christian would have thrown himself overboard, rather than tacitly consent to the slaughter and enslavement of God's own people.'

'I tried to help them!'

'You admit helping them?'

'I tried to convert them, to stop them. It was then I realised my reason for being was to head to Hibernia, convert the peoples and bring an end to the horror!'

'ENOUGH!' Eogan roared. 'I also grew up with Pagan Raiders, my own family were Pagan Raiders. I myself, was a Pagan Raider. Padraig is a true friend of mine and I see no reason for an end to the conversion of the Eireann. However, I will allow Palladius to stay, if he must, to tend the flock of Tir Eogan and Tir Connail, just as Padraig will remain and continue his missionary work. With Eogan's decision made, the drama was ended.