The Black Rood by Stephen R. Lawhead Read Free Book Online Page A

courage to me.
    Abbot Emlyn and my father arrived then. The abbotstepped into the room, and discerned instantly what had happened. His round shoulders slumped and his cheerful face dissolved in misery. Murdo rushed to the bedside as if he would command the life back into Rhona’s dear body; only when he beheld the stark white skin and her empty upward gaze was he persuaded that there was nothing to be done. He turned to Ragna and me, put his arm on my shoulder.
    â€œDuncan, my son,” he said, drawing me close. “I am so sorry.”
    We three stood there together for a time, our tears flowing freely. Abbot Emlyn stepped forward and began the rites for the dead. Stretching his hands over the still-warm body, he began chanting—not in Latin, or Greek, but in the ancient and honorable tongue of the Celts—asking the Swift Sure Hand to enfold the soul of my best beloved, and guide her swiftly to her eternal home. Then he folded Rhona’s hands over her breast, straightened her limbs, and told the serving-women to find Rhona’s finest clothes.
    To me, he said, “God has called his faithful daughter to join him in paradise. Tonight we will sing a lament for the empty place she leaves behind. Tomorrow we will celebrate her life and rejoice in her receiving her justly earned reward. Look your last upon her, dear friend, and I will return in a little while to take the body away and prepare it for burial.”
    I looked at him in dismay. So soon? I thought. Why does it have to be so soon? But I said nothing, merely nodding my assent instead.
    Emlyn left, and I turned once more to the bed. Already she seemed more at ease; the pinched tightness of her features had relaxed, and she appeared to be sleeping peacefully. For a fleeting instant my heart leapt up with joy. I felt like shouting, “See! It has all been a dreadful mistake! She lives! Rhona is with us still.”
    But no. Released from the pains of death, her body was taking on something of its natural calm. Stooping over her, I brushed the damp strands of hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “Go with God, my soul,” I said, straightening. It was then that I saw the small still form beside her; wrapped in swaddling clothes, looking like little more than alump in the bed, was the tiny body of my son. Dark-haired, his small face clenched like a fist against a world he would never know, he lay beside his mother.
    I beheld the body, and felt my own dear mother beside me. “The little one did not draw breath,” she told me. “There was nothing to be done.”
    I nodded, and rested my hand on his still chest—my hand almost covered his whole body. “God bless you, my son. May we meet one day in Blessed Jesu’s court.”
    We waited with the bodies until the monks came to take them away to the monastery. I could not bring myself to accompany them, nor take part in the preparations. Instead, I went down to the sea and walked along the beach until nightfall, and Emlyn sent Brother Padraig to fetch me back to the hall. “There is food and drink prepared,” he told me, “and everyone is waiting.”
    â€œNo,” I replied harshly. “Go back and tell them to eat without me.”
    â€œMaster Duncan,” he said gently, so mild and compassionate in his reproof I had not the heart to refuse him again, and so allowed myself to be led back to the hall. Upon entering, I glanced around quickly and Niniane was the first person I happened to see. She stepped swiftly toward me and folded me into her arms. “Dear, dear, Duncan,” she sighed. “I am so sorry…so very sorry.”
    I allowed myself to be consoled for a moment, and then asked, “How is it you are here?”
    â€œI was on my way to the abbey. I arrived in time to help prepare the—her body.”
    Lost in my grief, I had not been aware of the comings or goings around me. “Is Eirik with you?”
    She