Chapter Seven: Aidan Arrives
Ten years after the attack
Where is Brendan? It seems hours since I sent him to fetch me more plans for the wall.
I sigh. We've had several talks about this—he knows how vital our work is, he knows that I am counting on him. But again and again, he doesn't come through.
I go to my window to see if I can spot him. And there is my nephew, gallivanting about Kells in mad pursuit of… a goose? He's not alone. I spot four of the brothers with him—Assoua, Tang, Square, Leonardo. Every single one is supposed to be working on the wall today. But why work to protect Kells when you can go on a wild goose chase?
I should go down and remind Brendan what I asked him to do. But he's running about like a mad man. If I want to talk to him, I'll have to run him down, and as much as the people of Kells would enjoy watching their Abbot dash about like a school boy… I'll wait until Brendan has finished.
At the rate things are going… this is going to take a while. I heave a sigh and lean against the window frame. If he ran like that when he fetched plans, we'd have the wall done in half the time.
Then Leonardo catches up to Brendan, waving him back. I straighten back up. It would be an unspeakable miracle, but could it be Leonardo is encouraging the boy to return to his duties? Leonardo surges on ahead, but Brendan only stands there watching him. Things do not go well for Leonardo. It's difficult to tell from this angle, but from here it seems he dives head first into a pig pen.
And then Brendan takes off, continuing the chase. I sigh again, smacking one fist on the tower wall. It's just one goose… Should it be this difficult? I should get back to my work and accomplish what I can without the plans I asked for, but I find myself watching Brendan instead. Come on Brendan! That way, that way! It's only a goose… Just go a little faster!
What am I doing, gawking like this? This isn't a game of hurling. I'm becoming like the boy, too easily distracted. Well… but once Brendan catches the goose, I'll be able to talk to him. That's all—I want this to be over with quickly.
Then the goose flies up into some of the scaffolding surrounding the wall. That scaffolding is not steady… It's not designed to be the scene of a chase. I tense as Brendan begins to climb. Why aren't the brothers stopping him? The goose continues its mad dash. A villager tries to avoid it and falls off the scaffolding. I wince. Fortunately he's near the bottom, but still, a fall like that could—
I haven't finished the thought before the scaffolding snaps beneath Brendan and he falls out of sight.
Everything freezes. A fall like that could be fatal, if he landed wrong. I realize I'm clenching the window sill with both hands, leaning forward to see whatever I can. The brothers run closer to the scaffolding. I think I can make out their cries. But they don't make any move to go in to get Brendan. Is he somewhere they can't reach? I watch them closely, trying to gauge their body language. They aren't running for help or trying to get to him. Could it be that the boy is all right? But then they could just be in shock… I need to get down there.
Then Brendan emerges, whole and well. In a moment he's running after the goose again, the brothers behind him. He seems to be all right. I let out a deep breath. I'll have to talk to him about not running on the scaffolding… and to the brothers about pulling him into this when he had more important duties. What if he had died, all for a few goose feathers? Are the books so precious that they're worth risking an innocent child? I do all I can to protect the boy, but he always seems to find new ways to endanger himself.
Finally Brendan makes a flying leap and pins the goose to the ground. I head for the stairs.
I try to stay calm. Brendan should not have been distracted, but the brothers are more at fault than the child. Perhaps a reminder will be enough to get him back on task. I've lost my temper with him more than I should lately. After all, he is only a boy, even if he is on the brink of adulthood.
I leave my tower and find Brendan surrounded by the brothers, stroking a feather he's just plucked from the goose. When the men catch sight of me, they gasp and back away. Their eyes are full of guilt. They know what they should be doing right now.
"Abbot," Brother Leonardo says, "I explain for you." He babbles some story about chasing the goose. His robes are dripping with mud—clearly he did jump into the pig pen—and as he gestures during his storytelling, mud splashes across my shoulder. Brother Leonardo sees that I am not pleased. "Forgive us, Abbot," he says, and all four brothers clasp their hands together and bow in contrition.
"Brendan," I say, "where are those plans I asked for?"
"The plans?" His eyes get big as he remembers what I asked him to do. "Oh! …I left them in the scriptorium."
At least he didn't carry them about with him, or they might have ended up in the same state as Brother Leonardo. "Bring them to the tower." I hold out my hand, and Brendan hands over the goose quill.
"Yes, Uncle."
I survey the brothers before me. "Tomorrow, you will go back to work on the wall. Dawn till evening bell." How many times must I explain to them? Time is short. The Northmen could be upon us any day, and we must be ready! "And, Brother Leonardo."
"Hmm?" he says.
"Clean yourself up, for pity's sake." It is not dignified for a monk to be coated in mud like a beast of the field. I head back to my tower, brushing the filth off my shoulder.
It shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't have to watch these men's every move, Brendan's every move, to keep them on task. Why can't they understand—our lives depend on this wall! The lives of all of Kells depend on this wall. Every sacrifice must be made so it can be completed. Otherwise… Ceather's pale face flashes before me and I shudder. In my mind's eye, her face shifts… and becomes Brendan, still and lifeless.
No. I will never let that happen to Brendan. Or to anyone in Kells.
But there is so much to be done. I scan the walls around me. They have come a long way, but gazing at them, all I can see are the weaknesses—the gaps where the walls must be raised, the places where additional supports are needed. I spot some villagers struggling to lift more stone to the top. Brendan will likely be a while. I suppose I can help for a few minutes.
Of course I manage to lose myself in the work and soon much more time has passed than I intended. I rush back to the tower where I'm sure Brendan is waiting. I can't give him a lecture on being late with his responsibilities when I'm late to meet him.
But my workroom is empty. Did Brendan drop off the plans and go back to the scriptorium? I search the blue prints on my desk but I can't find what I need. I sigh. Likely, Brendan never made it here. For the second time today, he's forgotten his task. What distracted him this time? Why can't I impress upon him how important it is that we move quickly? I go to my window to look for him.
There he is—racing from the scriptorium in a dead run. At least I won't have to wait much longer. I trail my gaze over the wall again, trying to determine the most crucial place to work on next.
I hear Brendan's footsteps pounding up the stairway. I don't turn as he arrives, breathless.
"Here they are, Uncle," he pants.
This time I speak to him more firmly. "Brendan, how am I to trust you with responsibility when you continue to disappoint me? One day, you will take control of this abbey. Yet it takes you hours to fulfill a simple task."
Someday, it will be up to him to protect the people from the Northmen. When that day comes, he cannot afford to be distracted.
"I'm sorry." Brendan's voice is subdued, a bit hurt. I give him a sharp look—the boy seems sincerely apologetic. "The monks were talking of Iona. I dreamt it was destroyed. It was so real, Uncle!" His face twists with fear.
I wonder sometimes if he still remembers the terrible massacre he witnessed as an infant. Could those images still be inside his mind, buried under the rest of his childhood? When he dreams of the Northmen, is he glimpsing his past?
"It is real, Brendan." I try to make my voice gentler as I gesture for him to join me at the window. Brendan comes forward to look out over Kells. "One day that horror will come to us. That is exactly why we must prepare ourselves."
Brendan doesn't speak, but stands there, his eyes locked on something I cannot see. Maybe he does remember more than I realize. I carefully pull the plans from his grip, and spread them across my desk. All right, I see what needs to be done next. I pick up a piece of chalk and begin sketching on the wall. Brendan still stares off, lost in thought. Maybe my message is sinking in. But it's time for him to come back to work.
I explain my drawings as I work, but Brendan doesn't seem to be reacting at all. "This section of the wall is supported by three pillars. Here, here, and here."
"Uncle!" Brendan says. "Someone has arrived!"
I keep drawing. New arrivals to Kells are a very common occurrence.
"He has a white cat!"
"Another victim of the Northmen, no doubt," I say. More and more refugees have found their way here. More reason to finish the wall as soon as we can. The attacks are moving closer. "Now, let's see…" I glance back at my nephew… but he is gone. Off to meet the mysterious stranger with the cat.
I heave a long sigh. I should have known when I heard "cat." Why can't he stay focused? Today has been nothing but a losing battle.
I go to the window. The stranger has been surrounded by all of the brothers. I squint, straining to catch a glimpse of him. Finally the brothers move aside, and I see… wait. Could it really be?
Brother Aidan of Iona? One of the best illuminators of our time, if not the best. His skill as an illuminator is such that he has become a sort of legend. I knew him long ago when we were brothers together in Clonmacnoise. I haven't seen him since… oh, long before I lost Ceather. But… why would he come to Kells? For years, he's lived in Iona, an abbey known for exceptional illumination work, and he has been working on the Book of Iona—a book said to be begun by Colmcille himself. If Aidan is anything like he used to be, working on that Book is his life's dream and purpose—I can't imagine him choosing to leave that behind. And I can't imagine the Book leaving Iona, not unless something truly dire had happened.
Brendan's words echo through my head. "The monks were talking of Iona. I dreamt it was destroyed. It was so real, Uncle!" Perhaps it was far more real than either of us imagined.
I find my way down to the others. The monks are laughing with Brother Aidan, enjoying some joke he's told. I see Brendan towards the front of the crowd, and I push through to stand behind him.
"Welcome to Kells, Brother," I say, spreading my hands in welcome.
"Hmm?" Brother Aidan turns to face me. His hair is white now, almost as white as the cat in his arms, and his face is crossed with wrinkles. But it's him.
My appearance has certainly changed since our last meeting as well, but he recognizes me. "Abbot Cellach." He reaches for my hand.
"Peace be with you," I say. "Brothers! Welcome to Kells one of the great illuminators of our times. Brother Aidan of Iona."
Gasps echo through the crowd. They all move in closer, eager to ask questions, talking over one another. I can't remember ever seeing them so excited.
"Brothers, brothers, brothers," Aidan says, a smile on his face. "One question at a time. As Colmcille used to say, 'Questions do not burn your tongue if you wait to ask them.'" Everyone laughs with him, as if he is exceptionally witty. Aidan is greatly enjoying the attention, I see.
"Welcome to Kells, Brother Aidan!" Brendan says enthusiastically. He's beaming as though he's just met a hero from an ancient tale. I find myself frowning a bit.
The brothers swarm around Brother Aidan, babbling their joy at his arrival. They escort him to the scriptorium to see our work, fawning over his every word and pressing in, each hoping for a chance to speak to him. I follow, a few steps back behind the others. I want to speak with him in private as soon as the brothers have calmed down. I need to know why he has come. For now, though, I'll let him have his moment.
It's a bit surreal watching the others battle for his attention. I remember meeting Aidan when I was a boy. I knew then that he was gifted, but I had no idea what he would grow to become. I feel as though I'm witnessing Aidan's dreams come true—he has become a famed illuminator, more so than he ever sought. My life, on the other hand, has gone much differently than my childhood dreams.
I am secretly gratified to notice that Brendan does not stay in the crowd. He is more interested in hanging back to speak to Aidan's white cat.
Inside the scriptorium, the brothers are eager to give a grand tour. Aidan nods his approval. "Oh! Fine size of a place, isn't it? Mmm. Good clean air, fine light coming from those windows." I try not to think of the time that is wasted as we gather here. So little has been done today on the wall. But Aidan must have traveled a long way, and he deserves a proper welcome.
Brendan comes in, pushing through the brothers to get closer to Brother Aidan. "Brother," he says.
Aidan does not hear. He is consumed with examining his surroundings. "Very good, indeed, yes."
"Is that where you keep the Book?" Brendan asks, much more loudly.
Aidan turns, startled. "Hmm?"
The other brothers take a step away from Brendan. It's the question we've all been wanting to ask, but no one wanted to be impertinent.
Wait. Who told Brendan about the Book? How much did the brothers say to him about Iona?
"Uh…" Brendan is flustered by everyone's reaction. "Is… that… where you keep the…?" He trails off, embarrassed.
Aidan leans down, closer to Brendan's eye level. He smiles, trying to put the child at ease. I remember him doing the same for me, long ago. "And who might you be?" He holds his hand out over Brendan's head. "A very short brother, I see."
The monks chuckle at the joke. I scowl. I can see Brendan's humiliation at being laughed at.
"The person who is short of stature is never as short of questions," Aidan says. "And of what interest is the book to you?"
"Well, the brothers were talking…" Brendan gestures around him, and some of his confidence comes back. "…and they said that Saint Colmcille himself began it."
Enough. It sounds as though the brothers have already filled Brendan's head with talk of the Book. No need for Aidan to distract him further—he's already had far too many distractions today. And I need to understand why Brother Aidan is here. "Brothers, now that you've greeted Brother Aidan, I must take him to see the important work we're doing to fortify Kells." If he thinks Kells is an illumination workshop like Iona, he needs to be quickly corrected before he leads the others astray. "You all have work to do."
The monks trickle out of the scriptorium, grumbling. I put an arm around Brother Aidan, guiding him towards the tower. "The plans are in my work room."
"Ah," Aidan says, "but I was thinking, I could stay here…"
"Right this way, Brother." I move him forward, away from Brendan. If I'm right, and Brother Aidan bears bad news of Iona, I don't want Brendan to hear. Just a few minutes ago, he was terrified at the thought of Vikings attacking Iona. He doesn't need to hear the details.
I'll wait until my workroom to discuss what I truly want to discuss. For now, I begin to explain my work to Brother Aidan. "You see, I am determined to complete the fortifications within two years. Attacks from the Northmen have been increasing. It's only a matter of time before they find their way to Kells, and when they do, I want us to be unpierceable. All of the monks here assist with building the wall, and most of the villagers as well. Since that is our main focus, we have less time for other pursuits… such as illumination. I'm sure you can understand."
We climb the tower steps.
Aidan's smile finally slips from his face. "I'm afraid I do understand a fear of the Northmen." He takes a deep breath. "Br—Abbot Cellach… The boy was right. I do carry the book with me." He pats the bag.
"But…" I say, "why did you take it from Iona?"
Brother Aidan is silent until we enter my workroom.
"Iona is gone," Aidan says. He wraps his arms around himself, his eyes gazing into space. "I was the only one to escape. Myself, my cat… and the Book."
I close my eyes. I knew it. "I mourn for all those who were lost."
"As do I," Aidan says softly. "Thank you."
We pray together for the souls of all those killed. Then I ask, "How did you escape?"
Aidan shakes his head. "Only by the skin of my teeth. They pursued us to the beach. I just managed to flee by boat…"
And clearly the Northmen had a ship in order to reach Iona. I picture it in my mind—Aidan fleeing in his boat, the Northmen crossing the water close behind. It's my worst fear come true. He's lead the Northmen right to us. "You should not have come here. The Northmen will have followed you."
"Was I to stay and be killed?" Aidan asks. "I escaped the Vikings and left them far behind, Brother Cellach."
I glare at him. I am no longer the boy he knew in Clonmacnoise. I am Abbot here.
"Sorry, I mean… Abbot Cellach." He shuts his eyes, shrugging. "The book is saved and I mean to complete it."
"Yes." I turn my back to him, striding to the window. "Well, we have more pressing things to complete here." Iona's fate highlights the urgency of finishing the wall.
"You mean your wall?" His tone is skeptical.
I shoot him a dark look over my shoulder. "Not my wall, Aidan. A wall to save civilization!" I slam both hands again the window frame. "A wall to save your book!" I sigh. He has just escaped a Northmen attack. He lost all of his brothers in Iona, all of the books stored there. How can he not understand the importance of the wall? I gaze out through the window at all the huts nestled inside the safety of Kells. "Pagans, Crom worshippers… It is with the strength of our walls that they will come to trust the strength of our faith."
I glance back. Aidan runs a hand across the floor, tracing the plans I've laid for the wall. "You were always good at the old drawing, Cellach."
"Yes." But there are far more important things in life than drawing. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot to attend to."
I go to my desk, digging through the plans scattered across it. I can hear Aidan move towards the door, but he stops.
"No wall can stop the Northmen, Abbot. When they come, all we can do is run and hope that we are fast enough."
I scoff, sorting through my blueprints. Run? Hope we are fast enough? Does he not see how many are sheltered here in Kells? Does he not realize how many are old or feeble? Does he not see the tiny children and the babes in arms? Fleeing is not an option. We would be hunted down and destroyed. Fighting is not an option. We have no warriors among us.
The wall is our best, only choice.
Aidan sighs as he leaves.
