A Prayer for the Damned Read Free Page A

otherwise, to you, my dear brother in Christ, or to anyone here,’ he said unctuously. But there was no disguising the falseness of his tone. ‘I would simply ask for a momentmore in order to clarify my argument, for I fear that I must have presented it badly.’
    ‘We have heard Ard Macha’s argument and do not agree with it,’ snapped Brother Madagan.
    Again Abbot Ségdae laid a hand on his arm and said, without glancing at him: ‘My steward, too, is zealous for the rights of this abbey.
Audi alteram partem
– we will hear the other side, for there are two sides to every question. You seem to think, my dear brother in Christ’ – Ultán glanced up sharply: was he being mocked? – ‘you seem to imply that there is more to set before us for our consideration. Is that so?’
    Abbot Ultán nodded quickly. ‘My scribe, Brother Drón, will continue for me.’
    The sharp-faced scribe, seated at Abbot Ultán’s side, cleared his throat. ‘I beg leave to read from a sacred book of Ard Macha.’ He turned quickly to the fair-faced sister of the Faith at his side. ‘Sister Marga, the book, please.’
    Thus addressed, his neighbour reached into a satchel that she was carrying and drew forth a small calf-bound book, which she handed to Brother Dron. The scribe took it and turned to a pre-marked page and began to intone: ‘A celestial messenger appeared before the Blessed Patrick and spoke to him, saying, “The Lord God has given all the territories of the Irish in
modum paruchiae
to you and to your city, which the Irish call in their language Ard Macha—’ ”
    Abbot Ségdae interrupted. ‘Brother Dron, I presume that you are reading from the book that you call
Liber Angeli
? It is already known to us; indeed, we have asked Ard Macha for permission to send a scribe to make a copy for our own
scriptorium.’
    Brother Drón looked up with a frown. ‘I am, indeed, reading from the
Book of the Angel
. In virtue of this miraculous appearance to the Blessed Patrick, Ard Macha claims to hold supreme authority over the churches and monasteries of the five kingdoms of Éireann. All the houses of the Faith must defer to the authority of Ard Macha and pay tribute to it both spiritual and material.’ Brother Drón tapped the vellum page with his forefinger. ‘That is what is written here, Abbot Ségdae. This is why we have come to ask your obedience to this sacred instruction.’
    Abbot Ségdae’s smile seemed to broaden as he shook his head.
    ‘When I was a young man, I visited your great abbey at Ard Macha.’ He spoke slowly, almost dreamily. ‘I met with its scribes and scholars.’ He paused and for a few moments they waited in silence, but he did not continue. He seemed to have drifted off into his memories.
    Brother Drón glanced nervously at Abbot Ultán.
    ‘What relevance has this?’ he finally demanded.
    ‘Relevance?’ Abbot Ségdae looked up and frowned as if surprised by the question. Then he smiled again. ‘I was just thinking back to the time before this celestial message was ever known at Ard Macha. This book and its claims appear to have only recently come to light.’
    At that moment, Sister Marga, who had been taking notes, snapped her quill. Brother Drón turned to her with a frown, she muttered a hurried apology.
    Brother Madagan ignored the interruption and added cuttingly: ‘Not even Muirchú maccu Machtheri, the first great biographer of Patrick, argued that Ard Macha was the place wherein Patrick’s earthly remains repose. It is well known that he was buried at Dun Padraig, and he favoured that place above all others as the centre of his church. If you would venerate the Blessed Patrick, then it is to Dun Padraig you must go.’
    There was no mistaking the anger on Abbot Ultán’s face. For a while, he seemed to be physically fighting with himself to prevent a further outburst.
    ‘Am I to take these words back to the
archiepiscopus
Ségéne, Comarb of the Blessed Patrick?’ he finally