The morning sun crept up just beyond the top of the cliffs; hues of golden light began to fill the misty valley below.
Aidan finally awoke.
He glanced down at his sleeping apprentice who was curled up against his chest.
Brendan looked so at peace he didn't have the heart to wake him.
Aidan smiled and gently left a kiss on Brendan's forehead.
The older monk then carefully freed himself from his apprentice's tight embrace, making sure not to disturb him while he slept, and tucked the blanket over Brendan's shoulders.
The young apprentice began to stir in protest, but soon relaxed and curled up under the covers to continue on peacefully slumbering.
Aidan then flung on his robe and quietly crept out the door to the river for a quick bath. His cat, Pangur Ban, stirred from her morning nap and observed him as he stepped out and scanned across the valley.
All was very quite, only a few birds in the trees broke the silence with their songs. The mist still clung to the morning air, but Aidan could tell there was no one else around.
He stripped himself of his robe and sandals before dipping his foot to test the water. The sudden coolness sent shivers up his spine, but he soon eased his way into the pond and submerged himself into its crystal clear waters.
Aidan then touched back to the surface and threw his long silvery white hair over his shoulders. He swam under the small waterfall and let its fresh water run down his locks. The coolness of the water helped him ease the tension in his joints.
Once he felt clean, he sat back against the edge of the pond and let himself soak a little longer as he silently began his morning prayers. Aidan had to admit it did feel very relaxing this way.
All was quaint…until something rustling through the grass broke his concentration.
Before he could even peak around his shoulder to look, a figure suddenly leaped over him and splashed into the water!
"Yeee Haaah!" Brendan cried out with excitement as he plunged into the river, narrowly missing his master by a few feet!
Aidan flinched as water drenched his face again.
Brendan giggled hesitantly as he came back to the surface to face him.
But Aidan only grinned as he began laughing and splashing him right back, causing Brendan to burst out laughing with him.
The two of them wrestled in the water, both playfully dunking the other in the pond and ruffling each other's hair until they were worn out.
All the while, Brendan couldn't stop giggling.
"Alright, alright, enough joking around, lad, I'll get breakfast going," Aidan chuckled, as he pulled himself out of the pond to dry off, twisting and squeezing water out his hair as he did so.
"Aww, I was just getting started! That was too much fun," Brendan replied, shaking water off as he followed him.
"I know it was, lad, now come along, there's plenty work to be done." Aidan smiled, as he slipped himself back into his white robe and helped Brendan get dressed.
The two of them made their way back to the hut. Pangur stretched and greeted them as she flopped onto her back. Brendan then knelt down and gingerly rubbed at her soft belly.
Aidan observed from the side as he gave his hair a quick brushing, before putting himself to work at the fireplace.
"I had one of the most pleasant dreams last night," Brendan said, before pitching in to help prepare the ingredients.
"Oh really, lad, what about?" Aidan replied curiously.
"Well… I dreamt of this woman." Brendan murmured.
"A woman? Was it Aisling?" Aidan asked.
"No… She uh… She was different." The young monk responded.
Aidan rose in eyebrow and listened closely as he kept stirring the oats in the cauldron.
"This woman had bright blue eyes and fiery red hair… She looked so beautiful. We sat and talked for what felt like hours in a meadow. Her voice was so comforting when she spoke to me… I never felt so at home before," Brendan explained.
Aidan paused for a moment, his brow bent in thought, as he let the oats come to a boil.
"Did you recognize her, lad?" Aidan asked.
"No…But I feel I should have though…" Brendan replied, sensing his master already knew the answer.
Aidan smiled warmly.
"Well lad, I've got reasons to believe that was your mother you've dreamt of," Aidan said.
Brendan was astonished; at the moment Aidan mentioned her, long lost memories came flooding back.
"Of course…"
He felt slightly disheartened with himself that he had nearly forgotten what his own mother looked like. But then again, he was only a baby when he last saw her alive, yet it didn't make the pain any easier to bear.
Brendan recalled his uncle never spoke of her very often, but when he did he had nothing but good things to say about her.
"Brother Aidan, you knew my mother, didn't you?" Brendan spoke.
"Ceather? Yes… Oh yes, I knew her. Your mother was there for me when very few were at the time… Not only was she incredibly gifted, but she was also an uncommonly kind woman. Such gifts I believe she's passed on to you, lad," Aidan answered.
"I wonder how she would react to our relationship…" Brendan muttered.
Aidan suddenly grew very quiet, before slowly returning to his work at the cauldron.
"…It's better off not to speak on behalf of the dead, my boy. Hardly any good comes out of it. One of these days you'll understand why… Now eat your breakfast, lad, you'll feel much better afterwards," Aidan softly replied, handing Brendan a bowl of porridge.
Brendan nodded and sat at the table with him and ate his fill.
Once Aidan was done, he took a quick glance at the book of Iona and leafed through a few pages. Brendan curiously looked up as he gulped down the last of his meal. Aidan then got up and examined the shelves of ink they had stashed away. The older monk frowned when he came to an empty flask.
"Hmm, just as I thought…" Aidan said, as he scanned around for other ingredients.
"What's wrong?" Brendan asked.
"We're just about out of gold-leaf ink, and we'll be needing quite a bit of it for this next page," Aidan replied, as he scratched at his bristly chin.
Brendan looked a tad worried, he wasn't familiar with the ingredients for this particular ink.
"Where do you suppose we get it? The forest? Or a wasp nest perhaps?" Brendan inquired.
Aidan shook his head.
"No, I'll have to look for gold-leaf powder in town, some foreign traders from Asia are bound to have it. But you can stay here and work on the foundations for this page while I'm gone, boy. We've done this countless times before, I'm sure you've gotten the hang of it by now."
"Alright. Just be careful," Brendan responded.
"Oh, I will. But don't you worry, lad. It won't take long," his master gently replied, grabbing his satchel and coin pouch.
Pangur exchanged a few stern looks with her owner. But Aidan smiled reassuringly in return before heading out the door.
The Ionian monk treaded the winding pathway up the valley's cliffs. He knew by the time he would reach the top the path to the nearest town was a straightforward journey. A few miles in he could spot the clusters of huts and thatched roofs in the distance.
Things looked quite busy, people passed him by with wagons and oxen grumbling as they went. Aidan did his best to remain vigilant amongst the constant hustle and bustle around him, making sure his feet or cloak didn't get stepped on by any passing villagers or oxen.
At last he spotted a middle-aged Asian man from China tending to his inventory. However as Aidan gave a glance at what was leftover, things didn't look quite as promising as he had hoped. Only a few pouches of foreign spices were present in the baskets. But Aidan knew it wouldn't hurt just to simply ask.
"Beg your pardon sir, but you wouldn't happen to carrying any gold-leaf powder with you?" He asked.
The man gave him a rather toothy grin and said, "Oh, afraid we're all out of that kind of powder, sir. Our next load of cargo will get here next month."
The man's accent was very thick, but Aidan was able to understand most of what he said to him. He politely bowed his head to him and moved on.
As Aidan looked though the other foreign trader's inventory, it became very clear to him that most of the fine powders for ink had already been taken. Disappointed, he tried to ease his way through the crowded road and find his way back. However, along his way back a familiar old voice called out to him.
"Bee in your bonnet, my dear Brother Aidan?"
Aidan turned around to find an old woman with a long silky white braid and earthy colored robes quickening her pace to meet him.
"Ophelia, what brings you here?"
"Oh, only a few spools of thread for my latest work. But the real question is what brings you here? You were looking very frustrated with something," The old seamstress asked.
"Ah, my apprentice and I have run out of gold-leaf powder for ink, and it appears I'm far too late in getting more," Aidan explained.
Ophelia perked up.
"Gold-leaf you say? Well, as a matter of fact I happen to have a fair portion of it back at my hut, I personally have no use for it at the moment, so you may gladly take it off my hands," she responded.
"Really? My goodness, thank you so much!" Aidan smiled ecstatically.
"Oh, no trouble at all. Besides, I've got a little extra treat waiting for you and your apprentice, Brendan," Ophelia added.
Aidan looked a tad baffled at first, but he gladly followed her lead.
Inside her hut, Ophelia rooted through her leather pouches for her stash. As she was looking around, Aidan took the time to admire her tapestries she was working on.
There he saw a half woven scarlet dragon entangled in its own body in a Celtic knot design with a black and gold threaded boarder encircling it.
"I must say, your work is quite exquisite," Aidan complimented.
"Why thank you, my friend, hopefully my client will think so too. -Ah! Here you have it, gold-leaf powder as promised," Ophelia happily replied, as she traded him the pouch for five pieces of silver.
"Many thanks, my lady, you've been very helpful," Aidan replied.
"You are most welcome- Oh! And one more thing…"
"Hm?"
The old seamstress soon returned with a leather pouch filled with plump and juicy strawberries.
"My garden's berries have been quite abundant of late. So give my regards to your boy, Brendan, for me. You both have been working so hard on that book of yours," she said, handing it over to him.
Aidan was flattered.
"Ophelia, you are much too kind," he smiled, graciously accepting her gift.
"It's the least I can do after you both helped me settle down here in this town. Now, you'd better be on your way and take care of that boy of yours," the old seamstress replied.
"Take care, Ophelia," Aidan nodded.
"He's very fond of you, you know…"
Aidan paused to glance behind.
But Ophelia merely winked at him and returned to her work on the tapestry.
Aidan wasn't entirely sure what context she meant by that, but he brushed it off as a gentle compliment and nothing more before moving on.
Along road back home, Aidan spotted a slow moving wagon being driven by two elderly women while their two black hulking oxen pulled them forward at a steady pace. The wagon practically took up the width of the road, and the path hugged along side the cliff. So any thoughts about passing them without falling down the 60-foot drop to the sea below were completely out of the question.
But the Ionian monk was patient; he knew the main entrance to the valley was close by now; all he had to do was just hang in there and bide his time. However, as he slowly treaded behind them, Aidan caught wind of the old women's conversation.
"So, did you hear about what happened down at the abbey?" One said to the other.
"What?"
"They caught a priest raping the boys who were staying there!"
Aidan tensed up.
"He did what?!" The old woman shrieked.
"That's what I told ya! They say he had been preying upon them for quite sometime now. Tying them down, covering their screams, and cutting them with a knife if they didn't obey. He was relishing in their pain as he did all sorts of god-forsaken things to them. Like a wolf amongst lambs, the retrenched beast!"
"How'd he get found out?"
"I'll tell ya, one of the boys broke loose and ran screaming battered and naked to the Abbot begging for his help. Like out of some dreadful nightmare they say. They've caught that man now, and he's locked away behind bars. Lord knows what they're doing to him now!"
Aidan didn't want to hear anymore, the news was too terrible for words. His heart went out to the boys who had gone through hell, but he felt his stomach cramp up whenever the priest was brought up. He tried to slow down his pace and ignore their ramblings. But the old crones kept getting louder as they carried on their conversation.
"Those poor boys, they'll never be the same after that… That man will hang for sure!"
"Not hang dear sister, BURN! I've heard they've already made arrangements to have him burned at the stake in a few days time now."
"Heh, and good riddance too. At times like these, it's men like him who deserve to burn."
Aidan stopped dead in his tracks, shaken by the old crone's story. He had heard countless tales of lustful monks and priests who used and abused their child apprentices out of sexual spite before, but this one in particular made his stomach twist inside him.
All sorts of questions came flooding through his mind.
What on earth did that make him then? Was he no better than they were?
-No! No! It's can't be true, he loves the boy and Brendan loves him, he knows that. He's nothing like them…
Right…?
…But others won't know… and others won't care, until there's blood from either of them was on the executioner's block.
-ENOUGH!
He thought harshly, and brought himself slowly back to reality.
Aidan stared blankly as the wagon continued far away down the path until it vanished into the mist.
Mist…?
Strange, he could have sworn the air was clear not too long ago. The older monk looked around to find thick storm clouds moving in and the mist growing thicker on the path.
Wasting no time, Aidan bolted down the road and found the entrance leading him back home. All the while feeling like every step he took some unseen presence was judging him.
Brendan was growing worried.
Aidan told him it would be was quick task, yet taken several hours for him to do so. He realized he was beginning to sound like his uncle.
Aidan was old, but he was never slow, on the contrary he was very fast for a man his age. Perhaps the road to town was busy or the on coming storm has slowed him down? Or worst yet something happened to him on the journey. A Wolf…? Or a Viking perhaps?
Brendan felt Pangur Ban leap onto his shoulders and brush up against him. The boy smiled in relief.
"I know Pangur, I'm worrying too much... But why would he be so late all of the sudden?" Brendan spoke, as he peaked out of the window.
He saw bright streaks of lightening rip through the sky with a loud thunder crack.
Brendan flinched at the sound and drew back.
"Maybe I'd better go looking for him, Pangur, he couldn't have gone too far," Brendan said to his cat, as he fastened his cloak.
Pangur Ban mewed worriedly and leapt after him.
As Brendan pulled away the fabric door a cloud of thick mist greeted him.
The young apprentice bit at his lip and took a lit candle with him.
"Keep close to me, Pangur, the mist looks pretty bad," Brendan warned, as he scanned his surroundings as he cautiously stepped out the door.
The young apprentice shielded his candlelight from the oncoming dampness. He ignored the moisture that was clinging to his robe and kept stepping forward into the blinding mist.
Brendan knew deep down he had nothing to fear. There are no wolves—or Vikings in this area. But the scary thought of having an intruder stare at him within the mist did cross his mind every once and while.
Pangur was only a few steps behind him as they reached the rocked slope, when suddenly she stopped in her tracks as she heard something in the distance.
"What is it, Pangur?" Brendan asked, holding his candlelight to the mist.
He couldn't hear it at first, but as the young apprentice softened his breath he could hear the faint patter of stones soon turned into loud scuttles of footsteps charging in his direction at full speed.
Brendan let out of shriek as he narrowly darted out of the way of his master as he stormed through the mist. Pangur hissed and jumped just in time. Aidan let out of gasp as he slid to a complete stop.
"Collum Cille's beard, boy! What on earth are you doing all the way out here?!" Aidan cried out, putting a hand on his chest to catch his breath.
"Sorry, Brother. You were gone for so long I thought I'd start searching for you," Brendan explained.
"Good heavens boy, you didn't need to do that," Aidan smiled and ruffled at his red hair.
Suddenly a loud roar or thunder bellowed across the sky, sending sheets of rain across the land.
"Well come along boy, before we're all soaked to the bone," Aidan said, cloaking Brendan out of the rain as he guided their way back to the cell.
Once inside, Aidan took off his wet cloak and added a few more logs to the fire. Pangur furiously shook off the rainwater off her coat and settled herself near the hearth to groom her white fur. Brendan stood by his master and reached his hands out towards the fireplace to warm them up.
"Did you get what you were looking for?" Brendan asked.
"Hm? Oh yes, Ophelia was very generous and gave me her stash of gold-leaf powder. But on top of that she also gave us this," Aidan replied, bringing out the leather pouch.
Brendan's eyes widened as he pulled open the bag to find the plump, ruby red, fruit.
"Strawberries! Ophelia has outdone herself this time!" he beamed.
Aidan nodded, "Perhaps once we're done working on this page, we can share them as a treat."
"Sounds like a good idea to me," the young monk replied and jumped into work.
Brendan felt ecstatic as he attentively watched Aidan show him how to development of the gold ink. Before long the hut had essence of golden glitter wafting its way through the air.
"Cover your mouth and nose lad, you don't want to be inhaling this," Aidan warned, guarding his own with the collar of his robe.
The two monks fanned the shimmering particles out the door with their cloaks.
Brendan then looked that the finished result; the gleaming ink looked like a king's melted down treasure trove.
"Beautiful…" He whispered.
Aidan smiled, offering his apprentice a quill to try it out.
Brendan gladly took it and settled down at the desk to start coloring the vellum page.
Aidan watched over his shoulder as he witnessed the images being brought to life with a few wisps of the feather quill.
Before long, Brendan was diving into intense detail. However Aidan's expression changed once he saw the figures being drawn onto the paper.
Pairs of men sat facing each other with their legs intertwined with the others legs as they both were reaching out holding hands and braiding their beards together in a Celtic knot pattern. The first row had them both clothed, the second had one of the men naked, and the third had both men naked. As beautifully intricate as it was to look at, Aidan couldn't shake the feeling that there was a more suggestive meaning behind Brendan's drawing.
The older monk wanted to beg the question to Brendan, but floods of grim thoughts from the old hag's story stifled his urge to ask. Silently Aidan sat at his seat across from his apprentice debating about his final decision.
Brendan grabbed a handful of strawberries and began biting into them one by one as he took the time to look over his work's progress. He felt very pleased with his drawing so far.
The young apprentice glanced up from the page to find Aidan deep in his thoughts staring into the dead of space. He looked so serious… far too serious to Brendan's liking.
Brendan then picked out a large strawberry from the leather pouch and brought it closer to his master's face in hopes to brighten up his mood.
Aidan paid no attention to the berry until it suddenly brushed up against his lips, which caused him to flinch. He then stopped to notice Brendan holding it out to him. Aidan then gave a small chuckle before accepting it and biting down on the bright, juicy, fruit.
But as delicious as the berry was, it wasn't enough to bring Aidan out of his glum state afterwards as he soon sank deeper into his thoughts once more.
Brendan was puzzled.
"What's the matter, Brother Aidan? You're not usually this quite," Brendan asked.
Aidan blinked.
"Hm? Oh… It's nothing, lad," He reassured, forcing a smile across his lips.
Brendan didn't feel convinced in the slightest.
"Aidan… If something is bothering you just tell me," he responded.
Aidan's gaze shifted.
"Brendan… Why did you draw those men like that?" He asked.
"Oh, them… You said to draw things that gave us inspiration. So I drew us together."
"Us…?" Aidan replied questionably.
"Well, more in an indirect way really. I drew our bond, it's what's been inspiring me the most with these last couple of pages," Brendan explained.
A part of Aidan's heart softened when he heard that, but as soon as he glanced down at the drawing again his stomach tensed up once more at the sexually driven configuration.
"I don't understand. What is the problem, Aidan? You've been acting strange since you got back," Brendan asked, growing more concerned for his master.
Aidan sighed and finally confessed.
"Lad… On my way back from the village… I had gotten word of a priest who had been taking his sexual aggression out on the young boys at the monastery not too far from here."
Brendan was stunned.
"That's awful… Has he been caught?" Brendan responded.
The older monk nodded.
"Brendan… I think it's best that we stop this relationship." Aidan muttered.
Brendan's eyes widened with utter confusion.
"Aidan! What are saying? You're nothing like that; you'd never hurt me! Why do we have to stop because of them?! We can go on with our secrets as usual, no one else knows about this," Brendan replied.
"Brendan! Look at us! A 62 year old monk caught with and 13 year old boy…they'll kill us, lad… they'll find it unnatural." Aidan scolded.
Brendan couldn't believe the words coming from Aidan's mouth. He sounded so cold as he spoke. It didn't sound like him at all, and it scared him.
"But why'd you do it then?! Back at Kells in the scriptorium? If you knew the rules back then too, why did you do it with me?" He questioned, trying his hardest to hide the trembling in his voice.
"I was a fool, Brendan! We both were…! I should have known better than to fall into temptation so easily like that...! I shouldn't have let you touch me like that… And I shouldn't have touched you…" Aidan hissed with his voice riddled in fear, pain, regret, and frustration.
Brendan couldn't hold back his tears anymore.
"Don't you love me anymore…?"
Aidan trembled.
It pained him to see Brendan cry.
He desperately wanted to say yes, but a knot inside seized him by his throat and silenced him. What came out instead made Aidan feel betrayed by his own words.
"It's not natural…"
Brendan's sad expression had soon faded into a frown.
"…Coward…" he hissed.
Aidan's eyes widened.
"You always were… You're no different from the rest of them!"
Aidan was broken.
Brendan's words felt like Vikings swords coming down upon his aching heart.
Aidan sadly reached toward his apprentice, desperately wishing he could take everything back.
"Brendan…"
"STAY AWAY FROM ME!" Brendan screamed at him and bolted outside.
"Brendan! Wait!" Aidan cried out, as he quickly followed his way to the door.
He watched from afar as Brendan ran under the oak, fall to his knees, and began crying.
The old monk wanted to go and comfort him so badly, but he knew all too well that he wasn't welcome around Brendan anymore.
He backed away and sat heavily at the table. Aidan then slammed his fist on the wooden surface out of frustration and started crying too. His mind felt like it was being split in two, as if two wolves were fighting over a piece of meat.
On one hand he felt he was doing the right thing in order to protect them both, but on the other he felt as if he was opening wounds that weren't even there to begin with.
Aidan's blurry, tear glazed, vision caught a glimpse of the book and the wretched drawing on its page. He then seized Brendan's quill and was ready to scratch it off the face of the earth.
The point was mere centimeters away from touching the vellum… but suddenly Aidan found himself not being able to ruin Brendan's work. He stopped and lay the quill down.
"Oh there's nothing in this life but mist…" Aidan grumbled to himself, holding his head in his hands.
There he rubbed the tears from his eyes, took the crystal, and gave the drawing a proper look.
The men's faces were warm and inviting as they held the hands of their partners. Their intertwined legs hugged their lovers into a tight and loving embrace. Each pair of men was expressing different levels of intimacy.
The more Aidan looked at the drawing the more entranced he became. Was this the bond that Brendan claimed they shared?
It was beautiful…
Aidan took the quill and carefully finished the last few details on the image before setting it aside to dry.
"Oh Brendan… Why can I only see dark when you can still see light?" Aidan whispered, feeling tears stream down his eyes once more.