“So you and the Picts of Alba have cemented your peace with a royal marriage, and have succeeded in outflanking the Kingdom of Fife regardless of their manoeuvres with Dunedin.” I observed.
“Exactly! Neither of them will dare try their luck with either of us. I couldn’t have planned it better myself - and nor could Ieuan, for that matter, devious Priest though he is.” I wasn’t so sure. I thought I caught a slight gleam in the Druid’s eye, though it was quickly hidden. “But enough of family matters. Sit down, Anselm.” I did so, gratefully, on a small wooden chair with a low back, draped with woollen cloth for comfort. Owain unhooked his leg from the chair arm and leaned forward, arms on his thighs and hands clasped together. Now, he was all business.
“Tell me about your mission to Whitby. What exactly is going on, and what outcome do you hope for.”
I found myself under the gaze of two very clear and piercing pairs of brown eyes as the brothers scrutinised me.
“I’m bound for Lindisfarne, sir.” I responded carefully.
“Don’t give me that, Anselm,” Owain responded irritably. “I know something of what’s going on, obviously more than you give me credit for. The scribes and clerks have been preparing the ground since midwinter. I’ve received an invitation from Oswy to attend myself, although I’m not a Christian. I may even know more about it than you, shut away on your windy rock, so don’t treat me like an ignorant fool. There are a lot of problems in these lands and I’m seeking the best outcome for us – for all of us. I’m not one of your cousins from Dalriada, interested only in fighting and cattle rustling.” I bristled slightly at the insult, but had to swallow it. I was a prince no longer. It was clear that I would have to tell more than I’d intended but the circumstances were not as Cunnian had believed when he gave me my instructions.
“I apologise, sir. I was unaware of your invitation and was acting under orders to be discreet. No offence was intended.” Owain nodded and waved for me to carry on. I confirmed that I was headed for Lindisfarne first, and then on to the monastery of Whitby, which was sited near the English town of Streanashalch. “King Oswy of Northumbria wants to see the arguments between the two Christian Churches, Roman and Irish, debated before him. He will then decide which route Northumbria is to follow.”
“And with it the rest of the English kingdoms?”
“That I don’t know for sure, but it may well be so. Since the Winwaed – “ I flinched a little at the mention of the name. My own defeat there remained upsetting, even though it was nearly ten years ago. “It would be logical to assume that other Christian English kings would be likely to follow Oswy’s example, whichever way he goes. The Romans are already strong in the south; Mercia is hardly even nominally Christian, but we have a few monasteries there. Penda never interfered in his people’s worship, so long as they turned out to fight for him when he demanded it.” My experiences of Penda had always been on a knife-edge. We had been both enemies and allies; at the Winwaed we had been on the same side, and had both lost. He was dead and my sanity had been shattered. “Essex is with the Romans but may change allegiance under Oswy’s influence. Kent will stay with Rome whatever, I think, and Sussex will probably go with them.”
“I agree,” Owain said. “So you Christians will spend a few days talking about your tonsures, the date of Easter and Free Will versus predestination. Maybe leavened with a heated debate on how many angels can dance on the head of a pin. Why should we be involved?”
We had a discussion that veered several times too closely to doctrinal differences for Owain’s interest but he paid attention again when Gawain asked about reports that Roman bishops had taken to anointing kings – effectively placing themselves and their church above any country’s rulers. I was able to confirm that this had happened; I had seen it myself, years earlier, in a petty mountain kingdom in the Alps. This was uncomfortable for the brothers and was the sort of incursion that they would be inclined to resist
I asked Owain if he would accept Oswy’s invitation to Whitby. He hesitated before explaining his reservations. The fact that he wasn’t a Christian at all would keep him outside the main debate and reduced to little more than backstairs intriguing - a position more suited to an advisor or ambassador than a king. He felt he would demean his status if he accepted such a role.
“But Oswy asked you to go sir,” I pointed out, “so maybe he thinks that you have something more to contribute. Maybe a reconciliation?”
“Oswy is a devious sod and I don’t trust him an inch.” Owain replied. Gawain nodded in agreement. “He’s made more than one conversion to his precious Christianity at the point of a sword and I wouldn’t put it past him to arrange my premature departure from this life, if he felt like it. Or maybe he’d hold me to ransom. At the very least I expect some kind of attempt at public humiliation. We were fighting each other just a few months ago and he’s inclined to take advantage of any hold he may think he has. I’m not prepared to go and put myself in his power, even if the Roman Church stirs up trouble. I am inclined to face that issue if and when it arises.”
I ventured that he could send Gawain in his place.
“Difficult. For all that everyone knows that my brother and I rule in harness - like your own system of the Dark Twins, Anselm,” Owain flashed a sidelong smile at me “If someone wished to take offence at a prince rather than the king being there it could cause real trouble. And Oswy’s just the man to take offence at a slight, real or imagined. Especially if he thinks it would give him leverage.”
It was intriguing that Oswy had invited Owain and he might be a supporter for us in the last resort, being favourably inclined to the church that had educated him. Even Ieuan, for all his loyalty to the Old Ways, was inclined towards some kind of presence although it was clear that his concern was to resist the return of the Romans, rather than to promote the Irish cause. The King was unsure. He brought the discussion to a close as the fabric leading to the Ladies’ chamber was thrown back and Gruach re-emerged and demanded his attention, which he was inclined to give. We rose as one as she entered the room.
“If Oswy had found himself a Pictish wife such as mine this problem might never have arisen, Anselm.”