With those words, the celebration began. To accommodate all our visitors, we hauled benches and boards from the refectory and placed them in the yard. Women from the settlements helped the cooks and kitcheners bestrew these with foods of all kinds: brown bread baked into special Eastertide loaves-round, with the shape of the cross cut in the top; cold boiled eggs-symbol of life's potency and promise; salmon and pike-fresh, salted, and smoked-on wooden trenchers; mussels and oysters; ground meal and pine kernels cooked in milk with egg and honey; roast turnips in steaming heaps; huge cauldrons of lamb stew; pork and beef and mutton roasted with fennel and onions and garlic; goose in herbed sauce; hare stuffed with sweet chestnuts; cockerels stuffed with corn and sage; larks in elderberry; compotes of plums and raspberries and apples; and much else besides.
Aengus mac Fergus, lord of the realm, sent some of his men with Easter gifts: great haunches of venison and boar to grace our feast. They wasted not a moment setting the meat to roast on spits over fires in the yard. Divested of this duty, they quickly devoted themselves to the cellarer, and became his willing slaves, labouring mightily with the oaken vats of rich dark ale and sweet yellow mead. The vats were placed on tripods outside the entrance to the hall. Also, since it was Easter, crocks of wine were provided.
When all was ready, Secnab Ruadh called for silence and prayed God's good blessing on our festal meal. Then, taking up our wooden bowls, we broke our long Easter fast-partaking of those dishes each found most appealing. The day was given to the satisfaction of eating and drinking and harmonious conversation with friends and kinsmen. And all who gathered within the abbey walls were brother and sister, parent and child, one to the other.
After the pangs of hunger were well and truly banished, we played games. Urged on by the children of our guests, we engaged in contests of strength and skill: throwing the well-stone, lofting spears, hand wrestling, and the like. Some of the lord's men, warriors all, devised a horse race in which the riders must sit backwards in the saddle. This proved such an enjoyable spectacle that the race was run several times to accommodate everyone who wished to take part. The last race was the best, for many of the older children insisted on being allowed to ride. So that the younger ones would not feel aggrieved, some of the monks joined in, each taking a child before him so that no harm could befall the little one. This made for even more confusion and the resulting laughter made the valley resound. Oh, it was a splendid diversion!
All through the festivities, I remained at Dugal's side, painfully aware that the time for our parting was hard upon us; but, as I did not like unhappy thoughts to intrude on that glorious Eastertide celebration, I tried my best not to dwell on it. If Dugal held similar feelings, he gave no sign, enjoying himself to the full, going from ale vat to race to table and back again. Of the three mysterious visitors-Brynach, Gwilym, and Ddewi-I saw little. They seemed always to hover in the bishop's shadow, often engaged in close conversation with one or another of our elder brethren. Though the festivity flowed easily around them, the three, and Brynach especially, held themselves aloof-looking on, smiling, but seldom entering into the merriment.
So the day passed, and the sun began to drift low, flaming the western sky with red-gold. Our good abb summoned all the people to follow him, and we made a great procession around the cross in the yard. Once, twice, three times around, whereupon he gathered everyone in a ring around the cross and said in his grating whisper of a voice: "Behold this cross! Sure, it is naked now, but it was not always so. I would have you remember, friends, that dire and dreadful day, when the Great King's Son took the weight of the world upon his back as he hung upon Golgotha's tree!
"Woe and shame, I say! O, Heart of my heart, your people seized you; they bound you; they struck you: green reed on firm flesh, hateful fist on ruddy cheek! Wicked thorns became a crown for the sacred head; a borrowed robe mocked the shoulders of him who bore the grievous stain of mankind's sin.
"And then, no stopping the bloodlust, they took you, piercing hands and feet with cold, cruel nails. They raised you high above the ground to die in bitter agony, your people helpless, watching.
"Hideous deed, the World Creator was spat upon as death stole the light from his eyes." Fraoch's voice cracked as the tears rolled down his cheeks. "Thunder and wind did not constrain them, rain and hail they heeded not-neither the broken voice crying out: Abba, forgive them! They know not what they do!
"Up came the sharp-bladed spear, biting deep into your wounded heart. Water and blood poured down your gleaming sides-the wine of forgiveness spilled out for all-and the Beautiful One of God breathed no more.
