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as a shock that I knew so little of Eire’s political state. Still, I knew much of Rome and that its power was fading. “I see. Yes, but the Romans withdrew from Pictland more than one hundred years ago—”
    “True, but Rome is still a power that must not be trifled with,” he interrupted, “and their priests wield it to their advantage. Just think of it. Before his death their great priest, the one they reverently call Saint Patrick, had the audacity to banish all Druids from Eire. Though of course he had no authority to do so, consider the impertinence of even suggesting such an unheard of thing.”
    My father’s critical views of the Christians differed from those I had studied and I was eager to hear his words. “I know little of Patrick. All their priests agree with his decree to cast us out of Eire?”
    “Yes, though perhaps to a greater or lesser degree. Some revile us openly and claim our sacred symbol of the serpent represents evil spawned by a demonic spirit they call Satan who lives in the depths of the earth. As for those priests who remain silent on the matter, perhaps it is they who pose the greater threat to us, for silence can be mistaken for temperance and reason.”
    “But that makes no sense. They have their religion while we have ours. Why should they care about us?”
    “By the teachings of their faith, Christians are obliged to bring all men to their one god. They will not have succeeded as long as one person, one soul still belongs to the Lordly Ones. Ridding Eire of all Druids simply makes their mission that much easier, don’t you see?”
    My stomach knotted as my father concluded, “My concern, and one I’ve shared with Master Tóla, is not knowing the lengths the Christians are willing to go to in order to be rid of us.”
    “They are our enemies, then?”
    “They most certainly see us as theirs. So…” He stopped speaking as the Master himself stepped under the canopy to join us.
    I sat quietly, uneasily reviewing my father’s remarkable words as he and Master Tóla began to discuss the synod that was to begin the following morning.
    * * *
    O Heavenly Father,
    O King of Kings,
    O Lord of Hosts,
    O Creator of All.
    With upturned faces we look to You,
    With lips of love we speak to You,
    With eyes aglow, we worship You,
    With ears attuned, we hear You.
    We ask Your many blessings upon all assembled here,
    We pray mercy for all who suffer within this darkness,
    We pray for enlightenment for those who resist Your call,
    We pray that they might see through Your darkness and find You.
    We pray all these things in Your Name,
    O Lord of Mysteries,
    We pray that you might consider them in Your Grace.
    In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost,
    Amen
    The Christian bishop, the same man who stood beside King Máelgarb’s chair in his chambers, ended his prayer and stared at us, sixty-six unmoving and unmoved Druids from villages throughout all the territories of Eire. A nearby group of Christian priests and monks who honored his prayer raised their heads.
    He ignored his fellow Christians. With his hands clasped behind his back, he began pacing back and forth beneath the great white canopy that covered us all. From time to time he cast glances in our direction as we sat cross-legged on the ground before him.
    Off to one side the High King slouched in his chair, perhaps interested though unengaged in the proceedings. The bishop bowed toward him and then faced us. “King Túathal Máelgarb, may the Blood of Christ protect him, bade us arrive here to discuss and overcome the darkness that envelops this land. For two days I have heard the views of the learned Druids who spoke to us.”
    Eyes sad, his face long, he shook his head. “Yes, I heard their views though by God’s Eternal Truth I must tell you that I do not hold with them. Now our King demands that I express my own beliefs, those of my church, and in my own poor way, relate to all the Word of God.”
    He stood erect,