Recovery was long and painful. Having only his tortured soul for company was the true agony. Ever since he was a young boy, Athelstan's days were filled with the quiet rhythm of work and prayer, first in the monastery, then in Ragnar's house. Idleness did not come easy to him. He found rest and peace in labour for his restless mind, as Father Cuthbert had taught him long ago.
In the small cell, where they moved him from the hospice, clearly as to protect the sick from his evil influence, he had no company other than daily brief visits from the soft spoken monk, Cylwith, who was clearly limiting his contact with Athelstan to what was needed to perform his healing duties. His thoughts wondered aimlessly, between memories and fears. His soul was Ragnar's black raven that flew into a house by mistake. His thoughts were flying around in terror looking for a way out, but crashing instead into the walls and dark corners of his shame, his fear and his doubt.
Father Cuthbert taught the young monks to recite their prayers as a way to find peace from fear, doubt or in temptation. Though he has not said them in a long time, he has not forgotten them. " De profundis clamavi ad te domine, domine exuadi vocem meam. Fiant aures tuae intendentes in vocem deprecaionis meae…." he murmured as Brother Cylwith entered the room. The healing monk looked at him in astonishment "You speak Latin. So it must be true, you were one of us". "Yes, a long time ago" Athelstan admitted. "I was a monk at Lindisferne." he said as shame engulfed him. "What is your name?" "Athelstan". "Let me pray with you Brother Athelstan" said the healer continuing the Psalm "Si iniquitates observaveris domine domine quis sustinebit. Quia apud te propitiatio est et propter legem tuam sustinui te domine. sustinuit anima mea in verbo eius speravit anima mea in domino. A custodia matutina usque ad noctem speret israel in domino. Quia apud dominum misericordia et copiosa apud eum redemptio. Et ipse redimet israel ex omnibus iniquitatibus eius." He made the sign of the cross and left the cell. The black raven in soul quieted and settled into a corner. The silent tears burning on his cheeks were like quiet rain washing down the dust from the parched earth.