appear.
Nor did I see her the next morning when Pietro's man collected our few bundled belongings and we left the villa for the waiting ship. Though we had made our farewells the night before, Faysal insisted on accompanying us to the wharf. He said it was to make certain that we did not get lost and fall into misfortune. Just before I climbed aboard, I offered Faysal the Qadi as a parting gift, but he refused, saying that if I ever returned to Byzantium again, I would certainly need a good knife. Crossing his hands over his chest, he bowed, and bespoke the peace of Allah for our voyage. He then stood on the quayside watching us until we passed from sight.
That was the last I saw of any of them.
76
I will say nothing of our homeward voyage-save that it was at every point the opposite of our outgoing journey. The ship was both stout and swift, the weather warm and mild, the company of Pietro and his crew, cordial-even the food, which the Venetians prepared with skill and exuberance, was more than agreeable. Thus, we enjoyed comforts I had not imagined to exist among seafaring folk.
Though we urged the sturdy little ship's master to put first into their home port for the sake of his cargo, he would not have it any other way but that he delivered us safely to our destination as agreed. The more we tried to persuade him, the more adamant he grew. 'You,' he declared, 'are my foremost concern. I will not rest until you are once again among your brother priests.'
Again, I wondered how much Harald had paid to secure this kind of treatment-and what accompanying threats he might have added as further inducement-but, as there was nothing to be done, we simply sat back and allowed the days to drift pleasantly by…until one morning, Pietro came to us and said, 'If you would like to see your homeland once again, follow me.'
We made our way to the prow where he pointed to a low-rising blue eminence floating on the horizon. 'There is lerne,' he said. 'You must tell me now where you wish to make landfall.'
We held council, and decided that Brynach had the best reckoning of the Irish coast, so he should guide the ship to our destination. This he did, and by nightfall we had reached the bay at the mouth of the Boann River.
Rather than tempt the rocky shoreline at dusk, Pietro dropped anchor in the bay and waited until morning. We passed an excruciating night-within shouting distance of our cherished homeland, but unable to cross over until morning.
When dawnlight finally came, we proceeded slowly upriver to Inbhir Patraic and made landfall at the wooden wharf. 'See now!' cried Dugal as his feet touched the planking. 'We have crossed three seas without so much as getting our feet wet!'
Indeed, in light of our previous voyage, it was a remarkable achievement. We all agreed that our Venetian shipmates were fine sailors, and praised them extravagantly, much to their delight. Pietro liked the look of the settlement, and decided to stay a day or two to trade. He asked if we would translate for him; 'I will pay you handsomely,' he said. 'You have been good company aboard my ship. I would like to do this for you.'
Bryn thanked him and said that, tempting though his offer might be, we had been away a long time and were anxious to return to the abbey which still lay two days' walk inland. 'Yet, where trade is the subject,' he added, 'I think you will find that, with the people hereabouts, silver speaks for itself.'
We bade farewell to Pietro and all his men in turn, and then climbed up the twisting, narrow path to the clifftop where we were greeted by a small crowd of folk who had seen the ship and gathered in anticipation of news and trade.
The head man pushed his way forward to welcome us. An expression of honest astonishment appeared on his face when he realized who it was that stood before him. 'Hoo!' he cried. 'Look at you now! Look at you! Returned from foreign lands as hale as the day you left!' Glancing around quickly, he searched among us and then scanned the cliff trail and wharf below. 'Michael bless me, where are the others? Where are all the rest? Are they coming after?'
'Greetings, Ladra,' Brynach answered. 'Yes, we have returned-we four alone. Alas, no more will be coming after.'
This caused a ripple of comment through the crowd. Ladra looked from one to the other of us, and said, 'Well, well, however it may be, welcome home. You have much to tell, and we would hear it gladly.'
'That, I fear, must wait a little,' Brynach replied. 'Our first duty is to make our return known to our brothers at the abbey. The day is good and we are well rested; I think we must make for Kells straightaway.'
Ladra's face fell, and the people groaned. Pointing to the wharf below, I said, 'There stands a man with ready silver. Would you keep him standing on the wharf until he grows weary and sails away to find more willing traders elsewhere?'
This caused a mild tumult as the people hastened down to meet Pietro and make him properly welcome. The resulting commotion allowed us to slip through the crowd and proceed on our way unhindered by hospitality, however well-meaning. Shouldering our various bundles, we started off.
Oh, it was fine to feel the soft turf beneath my feet and smell the cool, damp mistful air. Blissful green of every shade met the gaze at every turn, a soothing balm for eyes grown accustomed to the dry, colourless rock- bound wastes of the east. All that day I walked in a wonder of recollection: each hill and every tree seemed a miracle created anew to refresh the soul and delight the senses.
To be in Eire again, and know the place as for the first time-there is no finer thing.
We walked until midday and rested by the river, then walked again until nightfall took the path from us. Though we had no food with us, we did not count it a hardship, for to sleep once more under the summer stars and breath the still, soft fragrant air of that peaceful land was sustenance enough.
Rising before dawn, we proceeded on our way eagerly, and with such vigour and pace that by eventide we came in sight of Cenannus na Rig. We paused at the last hillside to look across the valley at the stone-encircled settlement, too overcome with the upsurge of mingled feelings to speak: the happiness of safe return entwining sorrow for our dear brothers who did not now stand beside us.
Then, even as we stood looking on, there came the clear, clean sound of the abbey bell tolling vespers. At the third stroke, Dugal was striding down the hill, and by the fifth he was running. Down we flew, racing as fast as we could go; I ran behind Dugal, and Brynach and Ddewi followed hard behind. We reached the abbey gate out of breath and weary, but thankful to be so.
'Home!' Dugal cried, his face glowing with the exertion and jubilation. 'Aidan, man, we are home!'
His cry brought the porter from his hut. He took one look at us and dashed for his bell and began ringing it to announce our arrival. 'God bless you, brothers! Welcome!' he shouted, trying to make himself heard above the bell.
'Paulinus!' hollered Dugal jovially. 'Leave off your bell ringing, we cannot hear a thing!'
Brother Paulinus came and stood before us, eager in the twilight, bursting with questions and welcome. From the chapel monks were already streaming towards us, and in less than the space of three heartbeats we were surrounded on all sides by our good brothers, all shouting glad welcome and slapping our backs and praising God and all the company of heaven for our safe return.
Then, even then-in the midst of all the merriment-I felt once more the vile serpent rear its head in my soul. Alas, it had not died with Nikos, it had only slept. To see all those dear brothers, their faces so joyful, and to hear them praise for our keeping the same God who had given so many others over to death made my spirit writhe within me. Even as I stood with the cries of happiness resounding in my ears, I could feel the poison seeping from my wounded soul.
The pain was almost past enduring. It was all I could do to remain among them, smiling, laughing, accepting their good wishes-when all I wanted was escape. I saw Dugal go down on his knees to beg forgiveness of Libir for pushing him down on the rocks-I turned away as the bitter bile rose in my throat.
Then Abbot Fraoch was standing before us, his arms outspread in welcome, acclaiming our arrival. Behind him, grinning with pleasure at the sight of us, stood Ruadh, the abbey secnab and my own dear confessor. 'Behold!' Fraoch said, his broken voice raised in a happy rasp of salutation. 'The wayfarers have returned! The pilgrimage is completed. Let the Lord Christ be praised for his faithful and steadfast protection!'
