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By Root 2410 0

oak grove, sacred to Brigid, the Celtic goddess of healing, whose festival was Imbolc, at the start of February. A patron of crafts and poetry, Brigid had also protected the province of Leinster, and to make sure of this favour, the priestess at the shrine kept a sacred fire always alight, night and day. The exact details had never been clear, but it seemed likely that, a generation or so after Saint Patrick’s activities in the north, the then high priestess of the shrine, who would have been known by her title, the priestess of Brigid, had taken the new Roman religion. In the centuries that followed, not only had the shrine acquired a new name—Kildare, Cill Dara, the church of the oak—but the nameless priestess had been transformed into a Christian saint with the same associations as the old pagan goddess, and a life story and attendant miracles on the usual pattern. As a learned man, Osgar knew that the chroniclers always had such biographies preprepared for the necessary manufacture of the lives of saints. But that did not take away from the essential point, which was that Saint Brigid, the patron saint of poets, blacksmiths, and healing, had entered the Christian calendar, along with her saint’s day, February 1, the ancient pagan festival of Imbolc.

It was a great place nowadays, bigger even than Kells. A large township—with a sacred centre, an inner ring of monastic buildings, and outer secular quarters—it contained a double monastery, one for monks and another for nuns, under the rule of a single head. Rich and powerful, Kildare even had its own retinue of armed men for its protection.

It was while he was inspecting one of the town’s fine crosses that Osgar decided to change his plans.

The idea had first occurred to him while he was still working at Kells, but he had dismissed it as unnecessary. During the journey, it had once or twice come into his mind again. But now, perhaps because of the sun shining so cheerfully on the frosty ground, and doubtless also because Morann was already going there, he suddenly felt an urge to visit Dyflin.

After all, he reminded himself, it wasn’t as if he was expected on any particular day at Glendalough. If he hadn’t gone down to Kildare on account of Sister Martha, he’d probably have been returning to Glendalough through Dyflin anyway. It was surely his family duty, with all the present troubles going on, to check on the well-being of his old uncle. Moreover, since the little family monastery was nominally under the auspices of Glendalough, he could imagine that the Abbot of Glendalough would be grateful for a report on the state of things there. And if he should happen to see Caoilinn, whom Morann had told him was staying with her father in the city now, there could surely be no harm in that. So when Morann emerged from his meeting, Osgar asked the surprised craftsman if, instead of going to Glendalough, he might ride in his cart with him into the city.

The craftsman gave him a cautious look.

“It could still be dangerous out there,” he warned.

“Yet you are going.” Osgar smiled. “I’m sure I shall be safe with you.”

They set off an hour before noon. For the first two hours, their journey was uneventful. There was a sheen of frost on the ground, and as they passed across the huge open spaces of Carmun, the terrain was sparkling green in the reflected sun. Osgar felt a strange happiness and a sense of tingling excitement that grew with every mile they passed. And though at first he told himself that this was because he was going once again to see his family at the monastery, he finally gave up and admitted, with an inward smile, that it was because he might be seeing Caoilinn. By early afternoon they had started up a wide track that led northwards, with the sweeping slopes of the Wicklow Mountains rising up some miles away to the west.

It was Osgar who spotted the first horseman. He was riding along a track about a mile away to their right. Even as he pointed him out to Morann, he saw that there were others not far behind. There were men on foot as well. Then he saw a cart