traditional life. But the decision is not in my hands. I am newly baptized in the Christian faith, Cullen. And my God summons me to a different existence, an existence that requires my total commitment. It will be a life where I will pledge to follow the original calling of Mary, the Mother of God, and take no husband.”
“No husband?” He seems shocked and relieved at once.
“No husband.” Brigid touches his cheek with her finger. “ Goodbye, Cullen.”
Before her parents or her emotions can overtake her, Brigid runs from the ceremonial mound, across the field. She spies her horse, hitched along with the others. Without even bothering to secure her belongings other than the small bag still strapped to the horse, she mounts her steed and rides away. To where, she does not know.
xvi
GAEL
A.D . 457
BRIGID: A LIFE
Brigid rides aimlessly for days through forests and plains. She eats what little she can forage and stops only when exhaustion demands. Prayer alone sustains her through the hunger and fatigue, and the distress over her family’s certain displeasure, but it does not provide her with a path.
She never wavers in her decision to reject Cullen’s hand, but as the days pass, she begins to despair. She longs for a clear way to her new existence as a servant of God. The dream of following in Mary’s initial footsteps—taking the veil and serving only the Lord—begins to seem rash and foolhardy. And she does not feel that she can turn to Patrick, the only Christian leader she knows, to shine a light on her path: he is too strongly allied with Broicsech. She falls to her knees beneath a bright half-moon and entreats God to show her the way to serve Him.
Hours later, Brigid awakens in a landscape somehow familiar. She recognizes the distinctive shape of an oak tree overhead and the unique roll of the hill at her feet. She does not remember coming to rest in this place.
After all these days of riding, she has unwittingly returned home.Her fatigue and anguish had blinded her to the recognizable features of her familial terrain.
It is not yet dawn. Gauging the time remaining before day’s light breaks and her father’s vassals rise, she dashes down to the riverside. She stoops and drinks of the cold water, slaking her thirst. Dipping her hands in one last time, she rubs her wet fingers over her weary eyes.
Her eyes open to see Broicsech staring into them. Brigid starts to run, but her mother is quicker than her regal manner would suggest. Broicsech catches the wide fold of Brigid’s sleeve and pulls her to the ground. Mother and daughter tumble down the knoll and land in a heap.
Panting from her exertions, Broicsech says, “Brigid, you have no need to fear me. I am not like one of your father’s raiding parties, ready to cart you off to a life of enslavement.”
“Mother, I did not intend to pass so close to the
cashel
. I beg you to let me leave before Father finds me on his lands.”
“He knows you are here.”
“And he permits me to stay? Without being taken into his custody?” Brigid is astonished. She would have guessed that if he discovered her trespass, her father would have ordered his warriors to return her to the
cashel
for punishment or another try at marriage to Cullen.
“For the moment—”
“I would have thought him furious beyond measure.”
“He is indeed. The injury done to his honor exceeds any from the battlefield, I can assure you. But he remains your father.”
“I am surprised he would still call himself such.”
“Brigid, he loves you, though he would not confess it aloud right now to anyone but me. Once you were spotted last evening, he and I discussed the situation. He knows that I have come to speak with you.”
“He does?”
“Yes. He is in full accord with the message I bear.”
“Pray do share it, Mother.”
“We understand that you have chosen a Christian path, one that contemplates singular devotion and dedication to our Lord, without familial
“No husband?” He seems shocked and relieved at once.
“No husband.” Brigid touches his cheek with her finger. “ Goodbye, Cullen.”
Before her parents or her emotions can overtake her, Brigid runs from the ceremonial mound, across the field. She spies her horse, hitched along with the others. Without even bothering to secure her belongings other than the small bag still strapped to the horse, she mounts her steed and rides away. To where, she does not know.
xvi
GAEL
A.D . 457
BRIGID: A LIFE
Brigid rides aimlessly for days through forests and plains. She eats what little she can forage and stops only when exhaustion demands. Prayer alone sustains her through the hunger and fatigue, and the distress over her family’s certain displeasure, but it does not provide her with a path.
She never wavers in her decision to reject Cullen’s hand, but as the days pass, she begins to despair. She longs for a clear way to her new existence as a servant of God. The dream of following in Mary’s initial footsteps—taking the veil and serving only the Lord—begins to seem rash and foolhardy. And she does not feel that she can turn to Patrick, the only Christian leader she knows, to shine a light on her path: he is too strongly allied with Broicsech. She falls to her knees beneath a bright half-moon and entreats God to show her the way to serve Him.
Hours later, Brigid awakens in a landscape somehow familiar. She recognizes the distinctive shape of an oak tree overhead and the unique roll of the hill at her feet. She does not remember coming to rest in this place.
After all these days of riding, she has unwittingly returned home.Her fatigue and anguish had blinded her to the recognizable features of her familial terrain.
It is not yet dawn. Gauging the time remaining before day’s light breaks and her father’s vassals rise, she dashes down to the riverside. She stoops and drinks of the cold water, slaking her thirst. Dipping her hands in one last time, she rubs her wet fingers over her weary eyes.
Her eyes open to see Broicsech staring into them. Brigid starts to run, but her mother is quicker than her regal manner would suggest. Broicsech catches the wide fold of Brigid’s sleeve and pulls her to the ground. Mother and daughter tumble down the knoll and land in a heap.
Panting from her exertions, Broicsech says, “Brigid, you have no need to fear me. I am not like one of your father’s raiding parties, ready to cart you off to a life of enslavement.”
“Mother, I did not intend to pass so close to the
cashel
. I beg you to let me leave before Father finds me on his lands.”
“He knows you are here.”
“And he permits me to stay? Without being taken into his custody?” Brigid is astonished. She would have guessed that if he discovered her trespass, her father would have ordered his warriors to return her to the
cashel
for punishment or another try at marriage to Cullen.
“For the moment—”
“I would have thought him furious beyond measure.”
“He is indeed. The injury done to his honor exceeds any from the battlefield, I can assure you. But he remains your father.”
“I am surprised he would still call himself such.”
“Brigid, he loves you, though he would not confess it aloud right now to anyone but me. Once you were spotted last evening, he and I discussed the situation. He knows that I have come to speak with you.”
“He does?”
“Yes. He is in full accord with the message I bear.”
“Pray do share it, Mother.”
“We understand that you have chosen a Christian path, one that contemplates singular devotion and dedication to our Lord, without familial
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