distractions. We will not force you into an unwanted marriage,though it would serve the Gaels’ greater goals of continued independence.” Broicsech raises her eyebrows. “We are not Romans, after all.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Brigid grasps her mother’s hands and kisses them in appreciation.
“Do not be so hasty in your gratitude. We ask something of you in return. Something that may assist us in reaching the same end your marriage might have.”
Brigid winces at the mention of her failed union to Cullen. “Anything you wish.”
“We request that, as you serve our Lord, you also serve your people. We believe that Christianity will be the foremost power and religion in the coming days—whether the land remains under Gaelic rule or is overcome by Roman or barbarian. Thus, we want you to prove that Gael—through its Christian piety and prowess—is a land entitled to preservation and self-rule.”
Before Brigid can curb her tongue, she blurts out, “Is not Bishop Patrick God’s chosen vehicle for the Christian conversion of our people?”
“Patrick is Roman Briton, not a Gael. He may convert our people, but he will never convince Rome or the coming tide that Christian Gael deserves its autonomy. And he will never convert the sheer number of people that a Christian Gael can. The people will always harbor suspicions of a Roman and a Briton; we need a Gael to prove our mettle and bring our people round.”
Brigid does not respond at first, judging Broicsech’s request to be nigh impossible. After some deliberation, she says, “Mother, you and Father deserve nothing less. You have bestowed upon me the greatest gift, the gift of choosing my own path. Yet how can I—a woman alone—achieve a goal that an army would be better suited to seek?”
“Do not trouble yourself with that; Dubtach will tend to the warriors, as he always does. In any event, an army, by itself, could never meet our objective.”
“I cannot fathom how I can succeed where an army would fail.”
As if privy to a secret, Broicsech smiles curiously and says, “You must begin by making our people believe in Jesus Christ. And then you must inspire them to manifest that belief in magnificent accomplishmentsthat will make Christian Rome and Arian Christian barbarians take heed of the Gaels.”
“How shall I begin?”
“Let us choose your cloak well, for it is a mantle you will wear for all eternity in the minds of our people. If you are to inspire our people to embrace God and render magnificent testimony to Him, your Christian persona must build on what the people already know and love.”
“What do you mean?”
Broicsech has an answer so fully formed that Brigid becomes certain that her mother has long considered this alternative to her marriage. “You are called Brigid. Our people worship the goddess Brigid, the source of all healing, the creator of all decorative arts and poetry, and the protector of women. So become the goddess Brigid, but a Christian one. Honor the rituals of the Gaels’ Brigid and deliver our Lord’s message to them through her voice and her customs. If you do so, the people will listen to you as you bear the saving Word of the new God—and then honor Him in ways our conquerors may heed.”
xvii
GAEL
A.D . 457–61
BRIGID: A LIFE
Her robes fly behind her like a flag as she gallops through the forest. Astride a white mare and garbed entirely in pure linen, Brigid seems more a spirit than a human. This otherworldliness is her intention, for it eases her way into each village she enters.
She finds that the people accept a ghostly, yet oddly familiar goddess creature into their perimeters more readily than they would a lone woman—though she quickly shows them that her earthly ministry is anything but ethereal. As soon as she enters their enclaves, Brigid rolls up the sleeves of her white robes and offers her healing services to the sick. The people typically ignore her at first. Inevitably, a maimed,
“Thank you, Mother.” Brigid grasps her mother’s hands and kisses them in appreciation.
“Do not be so hasty in your gratitude. We ask something of you in return. Something that may assist us in reaching the same end your marriage might have.”
Brigid winces at the mention of her failed union to Cullen. “Anything you wish.”
“We request that, as you serve our Lord, you also serve your people. We believe that Christianity will be the foremost power and religion in the coming days—whether the land remains under Gaelic rule or is overcome by Roman or barbarian. Thus, we want you to prove that Gael—through its Christian piety and prowess—is a land entitled to preservation and self-rule.”
Before Brigid can curb her tongue, she blurts out, “Is not Bishop Patrick God’s chosen vehicle for the Christian conversion of our people?”
“Patrick is Roman Briton, not a Gael. He may convert our people, but he will never convince Rome or the coming tide that Christian Gael deserves its autonomy. And he will never convert the sheer number of people that a Christian Gael can. The people will always harbor suspicions of a Roman and a Briton; we need a Gael to prove our mettle and bring our people round.”
Brigid does not respond at first, judging Broicsech’s request to be nigh impossible. After some deliberation, she says, “Mother, you and Father deserve nothing less. You have bestowed upon me the greatest gift, the gift of choosing my own path. Yet how can I—a woman alone—achieve a goal that an army would be better suited to seek?”
“Do not trouble yourself with that; Dubtach will tend to the warriors, as he always does. In any event, an army, by itself, could never meet our objective.”
“I cannot fathom how I can succeed where an army would fail.”
As if privy to a secret, Broicsech smiles curiously and says, “You must begin by making our people believe in Jesus Christ. And then you must inspire them to manifest that belief in magnificent accomplishmentsthat will make Christian Rome and Arian Christian barbarians take heed of the Gaels.”
“How shall I begin?”
“Let us choose your cloak well, for it is a mantle you will wear for all eternity in the minds of our people. If you are to inspire our people to embrace God and render magnificent testimony to Him, your Christian persona must build on what the people already know and love.”
“What do you mean?”
Broicsech has an answer so fully formed that Brigid becomes certain that her mother has long considered this alternative to her marriage. “You are called Brigid. Our people worship the goddess Brigid, the source of all healing, the creator of all decorative arts and poetry, and the protector of women. So become the goddess Brigid, but a Christian one. Honor the rituals of the Gaels’ Brigid and deliver our Lord’s message to them through her voice and her customs. If you do so, the people will listen to you as you bear the saving Word of the new God—and then honor Him in ways our conquerors may heed.”
xvii
GAEL
A.D . 457–61
BRIGID: A LIFE
Her robes fly behind her like a flag as she gallops through the forest. Astride a white mare and garbed entirely in pure linen, Brigid seems more a spirit than a human. This otherworldliness is her intention, for it eases her way into each village she enters.
She finds that the people accept a ghostly, yet oddly familiar goddess creature into their perimeters more readily than they would a lone woman—though she quickly shows them that her earthly ministry is anything but ethereal. As soon as she enters their enclaves, Brigid rolls up the sleeves of her white robes and offers her healing services to the sick. The people typically ignore her at first. Inevitably, a maimed,
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