‘You seem sure that this attack was by the same men as in Genua,’ he replied stiffly. ‘There are enough bandits in this country, especially so close to the merchant routes, to give me pause before I would make such accusations.’
She knew it was useless to press him further. For some reason he did not want to acknowledge the obvious logic. Instead she tried a more oblique approach.
‘How is it that people here are so adamant in their adherence to the teachings of Arius?’ she asked.
Magister Ado glanced at her suspiciously. Then he shrugged.
‘When the philosophies of Arius were flourishing inConstantinople, a Goth named Ulfilias, who had converted to Christianity but through the teachings of Arius, went as missionary to the Germanic peoples. His teachings spread among the Goths, Vandals, Visigoths, Burgundians and Longobards. Most accepted this form of the Faith and fought those who, like us, declared for the Nicene beliefs.’
‘And they have clung to the argument of Arius in spite of attempts to dissuade them?’
Magister Ado sighed — a deep, sad sigh. ‘My people, the Longobards, have been followers of Arius for centuries.’ He paused. ‘Let me explain. Over three centuries ago, Arius was denounced in Alexandria for his teachings. Emperor Constantine called an assembly in Nicaea to argue the matter. Arius, as I have said, argued that while Christ was divine, He was sent to us for the salvation of mankind, but He and the Holy Spirit were not equal to God the Father, Who must have created them, for God created all things. The debate at Nicaea was long and fierce, and finally Arius and his teachings were condemned. A creed, a set of orthodox beliefs, was agreed by the assembly of bishops, and its central teaching was that the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit were of the same substance; that they were One, being Three in One. Christ is no less than God.’
‘So once the Council at Nicaea had agreed on this, what was the outcome?’
‘Constantine, the Emperor, exiled all those who refused to abide by the decision and all those who refused to condemn Arius and his supporters. He ordered all copies of the
‘
‘It is the book in which Arius explained his teachings. It means “Festivity”.’
‘So that should have ended the argument.’
‘It did not. Another Emperor, Constantius, the second Emperor of his name, became an adherent of Arius and used his authority to exile the Nicene bishops, even exiling Pope Liberius and installing the Arian, Felix, in his place.
‘When Constantius died, Emperor Julian went back to pagan idolatry, but declared everyone had a right to believe whatever they wanted. So every sect in the Faith returned to follow their own philosophies. Finally, after many years, the Emperor Theodosius and his wife, Flacilla, came to power supporting the Nicene Creed. They exiled all Arian bishops and published an edict that every subject of the Roman Empire should profess and swear allegiance to the Nicene Creed of the bishops of Rome and Alexandria or be handed over for punishment for not doing so.’
Fidelma was shocked. ‘It sounds more like the Faith developed as a matter of political power than an appeal to the spirituality, morals and logic of the people.’
Magister Ado sniffed in disapproval. ‘Sometimes people have to be shown the way.’
‘But not by force, surely?’
‘Oh, come.’ Magister Ado smiled broadly. ‘You are a lawyer in your own land. What is law but telling people how they should behave? And if they do not, aren’t they punished? Isn’t that forcing them to proceed on a moral path in their lives? You cannot appeal to spirituality and morals with those who are greedy and will let nothing stand in their way.’
Fidelma acknowledged that the scholar had a point — although she would argue it was a point that was not without its own moral concerns. However, she decided that it was wise not to pursue the matter further. After all, the man had been attacked twice — apparently because of his adherenceto his beliefs. He had a right to them. It was best to avoid being embroiled in theological argument. She was, after all, a stranger in a strange land. Her main desire was simply to see her former mentor, Brother Ruadán, and to bring comfort to the old man in his illness.
Privately, she felt that she could understand why Arius argued that if there was one God Who was everlasting, and Christ was His only begotten son, then Christ, being begotten, must have been created by God. And didn’t the Gospel of John quote Christ as saying that His Father was ‘greater than I’? She was confused. Her own culture had always viewed the ancient gods and goddesses as being triune deities, each having three personalities and three outward appearances. So the Nicene Creed sat more comfortably in her people’s theology than monotheism. She wondered if she could find a copy of Arius’ book, the
Their journey proceeded without further incident for a while; through the beautiful valley, following the track alongside the river. Now and then they would stop to water the horses and the mule or take a drink themselves from the pure river waters, or taste some fruit recommended by Sister Gisa from the bushes or trees. Sister Gisa would check occasionally on Brother Faro’s wound. Albeit only a flesh wound, Fidelma knew that harm inflicted by an arrow could be dangerous. Fortunately, the young girl seemed to know how to handle injuries.
It turned out that the two warriors accompanying them were not particularly talkative as they spoke only in the harsh accents of the Longobards and knew very little Latin. But the feeling of danger seemed to have evaporated in the bright warm sunshine, amid the comforting sounds of the splashingof the river and the soft bird calls emanating from the lush green surroundings. It was, Fidelma thought, idyllic as they walked their horses along the river bank.
Just after noon Magister Ado called a halt. The two warriors set about catching some fish, which they were soon lifting with dexterous ease from the river. Sister Gisa went to gather some berries and fruits. A fire was lit over which the fish were cooked and they gathered around to eat and drink on the river bank. It seemed, as Fidelma rested in the sunshine, that they were a million miles from any other human being, least of all from any danger. She felt as if she could just drift — drift off into a relaxing sleep …
The barking of a dog suddenly caused her to sit upright. A squarely built, wiry-coated animal burst through the trees, paused and looked around. It had an almost comical face, with hairy eyebrows and a moustache that almost hid its powerful jaws. It seemed to glance around and then, tail wagging, it trotted towards Sister Gisa, with a faint friendly yelp. Brother Faro started nervously.
‘It is a hunting dog,’ he warned.
The young girl reached out and patted the animal’s head. It seemed to have a docile temperament.
The two warriors had risen to their feet with their hands on their sword hilts. The little dog allowed Sister Gisa to stroke its head before it gave a final yelp, a sniff, and trotted off.
Fidelma seemed to be the only one who realised what made Brother Faro and the warriors nervous about the appearance of the dog.
‘Do you think that there is a hunting party nearby?’ she asked Brother Faro.
Even before he could answer her, the sound of horses andthe cries of men came to their ears. A moment more and the first riders emerged through the trees and halted abruptly as they caught sight of the group. One of the riders led a mule and across its back lay the carcass of a red deer which was, apparently, the fruits of the hunt.
Then one of Wulfoald’s warriors stepped forward and called out in his own language. Words were quickly exchanged and Fidelma noticed her companions were visibly relaxing. One of the riders, a young man richly attired in embroidered hunting clothes and short cloak, slid from his white stallion. He was handsome, fair-faced with carefully trimmed corn-coloured hair, but cleanshaven. His eyes were a light blue. He came forward with a smile of greeting, his hand held out to Magister Ado.
‘You are welcome back from your travels, Magister Ado. It is good to see you back again in our peaceful valley.’
His Latin was colloquial but spoken with the firmness of one educated and used to command.
‘You are kind, Lord Radoald,’ acknowledged the elderly religieux.
The blue eyes swept over Brother Faro and Sister Gisa.
‘Ah, little Sister Gisa … and Brother Faro. You are both more than welcome. And …’ The young man frowned, as he noticed Brother Faro’s bandaged arm and shoulder for the first time. ‘But something is amiss. What has befallen you, my friend?’
