Saint Brigid's Bones by Philip Freeman Read Free Book Online Page A

to support him.”
    â€œMy point exactly. Anyone can justify their actions to themselves if they want something badly enough. So don’t cross the Christians off your list of suspects.”
    â€œBut Grandmother, Coroticus was an exception. He wasn’t a true Christian, even Patrick said so.”
    â€œDon’t lecture me about Patrick, young lady. I knew him long before you were born. He wasn’t bad looking, even in his later years, with piercing blue eyes and a thick head of wavy hair. You know, if I hadn’t been with your grandfather, I would have taken him back to my hut and showed him my—”
    â€œGrandmother!”
    â€œOh peace, child,” she chuckled. “Patrick had his faults—a bit moody at times and a fierce temper when you crossed him—but he was sincere in his strange devotion to celibacy, in spite of my considerable charms in those days.”
    She laughed again and sashayed across the floor to the hearth like a young maiden at a spring dance.
    Now that the dough had risen, she shaped it into two loaves and placed them over the coals of the hearth with a heated brick above them to make sure the baking would be even.
    â€œGrandmother, do you think druids could be involved?”
    â€œI seriously doubt it, my dear. The druids always respected Brigid and her work. There are a few malcontents who feel threatened by your faith, but our way is always open to new ideas. Some of your Christian stories are actually similar to our own. I always thought your Jesus would have made a fine druid if he’d been fortunate enough to have been born Irish.”
    She basted the chicken as I continued.
    â€œBut what Christian would do such a thing?”
    â€œI’m not saying your thief was necessarily a Christian, Deirdre. It’s just that you have to consider the possibility. There are other Christian groups in Ireland besides the followers of Brigid, like the monks at Armagh. They could be behind the missing bones. They’re one of the largest landholders in Ulster and have plenty of gold. Their abbot—a vile little man—probably has a whole drawer full of silk ribbons. They’ve always resented Brigid’s monastery as a rival to their own power and would love to destroy it. If they didn’t steal the bones themselves, they could have hired someone to do it for them.”
    She went out to the barn to feed her cow while I cleared off the table and brought out some plates. When she came back, I asked her who else she thought could have taken the bones.
    â€œMy money would be on King Dúnlaing’s men, maybe even his sons,” she said. “They would profit greatly from seizing the monastery lands. I know the king himself would condemn the theft, but if one of his men, especially one with lands near the monastery, thought he could serve his own interests by stealing them, it wouldn’t be hard for him to slip in and out of the church one night with nobody the wiser.”
    â€œI saw Roech on the way here, Grandmother. He acted like he knew something I didn’t.”
    â€œRoech is an idiot. You need to talk to Dúnlaing himself.”
    â€œAnd what am I supposed to do? March into the king’s feasting hall and ask him if any of his men stole the bones of Brigid?”
    â€œWhy not? You’re a bard. Threaten him with satire if he doesn’t turn over the thief.”
    â€œAnd if he decides to cut my head off instead?”
    â€œThen he’ll owe me twenty cows as your next of kin.”
    We both laughed. No king would dare lay hands on a bard.
    The bread was starting to smell wonderful. I could tell it was almost done.
    â€œGrandmother, there’s something else, though it’s probably nothing.”
    â€œAnd what would that be, my child?”
    â€œLast night, just as I was falling asleep, I thought I heard a voice speaking to me.”
    My grandmother suddenly looked very serious.
    â€œWhat