Saint Patrick by Michael Scott

Author:Michael Scott [Scott, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2021-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

The Burning Fort

Dichu was the first Irishman I baptized into the Christian faith—or the New Faith, as it was called. His people followed in his footsteps almost immediately. When I asked him why they had also agreed to convert, Dichu replied, “They trust me to make the right decisions.”

And so my brothers spent the next few weeks teaching and baptizing the locals.

Standing by the side of the lake, watching Dichu’s clansmen lining up, waiting their turn to be dipped in the water to be baptized, I was struck by a sudden idea.

“Who is the king now?” I asked Dichu.

“Laoghaire,” he said. “A hard, cruel man.”

“What would happen,” I asked, “if Laoghaire were to become Christian?”

The huge man shrugged. “All Ireland would follow him,” he said, and then, realizing what I was thinking, he grinned and shook his head. “But you’ll never convert Laoghaire. In fact, I doubt you could even get close to him.”

“I only want to talk to him,” I said.

“The Druids—the Holy Men—will see you as a threat. If he becomes a Christian, all their power will disappear.”

I had encountered the Druids before, in Gaul, Briton, and Wales. They were more than just the priests of the pagan religion. Male and female, they were doctors and judges, historians and prophets, and their power was absolute. In many places they were more powerful than the king.

“There must be some way to get close to Laoghaire.”

“I am sure your god”—Dichu paused—“our god will find a way.”

I looked up at the sun, gauging the time. “I am going to see my former master, Miliuc. We have unfinished business.”

“Be careful of Miliuc; he is an old man, proud and stubborn.” Dichu’s broad face was serious. “I don’t think he will like that fact that you’ve returned. Remember, you were the only slave of his ever to escape. I think he will be insulted that you have come back; he will think you are here to mock him.”

“But I am not.”

“I know that—I know there is no harm in you. But all he will see is an escaped slave. An escaped slave who is already gaining a reputation as some sort of magician. He might think you’ve come back to work your magic on him.”

“But I’m no magician,” I protested.

Dichu grinned. “You’ve converted me and my people to the New God. Surely there is magic in that?” He turned away and was walking down to the shore when he stopped and looked back. “At least, that is how outsiders will look at it. They’ll think you cast a spell over us.” He grinned, and I heard his final words drifting back over his shoulder. “And perhaps you have.”

Away from the lakeside and its murmuring crowds, I came to a place of stillness. The day was warm, with the sun shining from a pale, bright sky. I was glad to be in the forest, which was pleasantly cool and shady after the harsh sunlight. Dichu had given me directions to Miliuc’s fort,

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