I stared on in disbelief. Dugal nodded, accepting the abbot's decision almost reluctantly. "On my life, I will do all to aid the successful completion of our journey," he vowed.
Another shout echoed up from the wharf. "The tide is ebbing! You must hurry!"
"It is settled," said the king. "Go now. We will care for your man while you take your leave." Then turning to Dugal, he said, "The world is wide, friend, and dangers crowd the day." He drew his sword and offered it to his former warrior. "Therefore, take this blade for the protection of your good brothers."
Dugal reached for the sword, but the bishop put out his hand. "Lord Aengus, keep your weapon," he said. "The Word of God is our protection; we need no other."
"As you will," the king said, replacing the sword. "Hurry now or you will not get clear of the river mouth."
Leaving poor Libir in the care of Cellach and the king's men, we made our way down to the ship. The last of the supplies had been loaded, and most of the monks had already clambered aboard. The bishop, with great dignity, eased himself over the side of the boat and took his place beside the mast. Dugal and I were the last to board.
I had never been in a ship before. "Dugal," I said urgently, "it is not big enough! Sure, it is too small."
He laughed. "Fret not. It is a stout craft." He ran his hand along the rail. "It was made to carry thirty men at need, and we are but thirteen. We will fly before the wind."
I gaped at him, still marvelling at the turn of events I had just witnessed. If the archangel Michael himself had reached down and plucked Dugal from the wharf and dropped him into the boat beside me, I would not have been more astonished.
"You are going, too, Dugal!" I cried suddenly.
"That I am, brother." His smile was broad and handsome.
"But it is wonderful, is it not?"
"Indeed," he said.
At a shout from one of the British monks, four of the brothers standing at the rail took up long oars and pushed away from the wharf.
The abbot raised his staff aloft and made the sign of the cross over us. "You go with a treasure, my brothers. May you return with tenfold riches and blessings untold!"
Then, lifting his poor, broken voice, he began to sing:
I set the keeping of Christ about thee,
I set the guarding of God around thee,
To aid thee and protect thee,
From peril, from danger, from loss.
Nor drowned be thou at sea,
Nor slain be thou on land,
Nor overthrown by any man,
Nor undone by any woman.
You shall hold to God-
God shall hold to thee,
Surrounding thy two feet,
His two hands about thy head.
Michael's shield is about thee,
Jesu's shelter is over thee,
Colum Cille's breastplate preserves you,
From all harm, and the heathen's wicked wiles.
The love of God be with thee,
The peace of Christ be with thee,
The joy of the Saints be with thee,
Always upholding thee,
On sea, and land,
Wheresoever you shall wend,
Blessing thee,
Keeping thee,
Aiding thee,
Each day and night of your lives for ever.
Alleluia, amen!
I stood at the rail, listening to this fine song, knowing I would never see my homeland again.
The ship swung slowly out into the centre of the swift-flowing stream. The sea tide bore us quickly along, and I stood watching the green hills slide past. Those on the wharf waved us away, and sang a psalm of farewell. I could still hear that song long after a bend in the river took them from sight. I dashed the tears away with the heels of my hands, lest anyone see me.
The high banks fell away on either side and we entered a wide, low bay. "Up sail!" cried the brother at the tiller. Four monks leapt to the mast, and began tugging on ropes. A moment later the tawny-coloured sail ascended, ruffled in the breeze, shook itself, and then puffed out with a snap. Painted in white in the centre of the sail was the symbol of the wild goose: Ban Gwydd.
All at once, the ship seemed to gather itself and leap forward in the water; I heard waves splashing against the prow. Before I knew it, we were seaborne and on our way. I cast a long, lingering backward glance at the green hills of Eire, and bade a last farewell to my homeland. The journey was begun.
Exhilaration surged through me as the ship gathered speed before the wind, gliding out upon the smooth, glassy waves as quick and keen as any black-winged gull. The sea spread before the ship and I gaped in awe at the sight: an immense expanse of restless blue-grey water billowing to the horizon and beyond, wider and more wild than I had ever imagined. How different it appeared from the rail of a swift-sailing ship.
Gasping, the raw wind stealing the breath from my lungs, I marvelled at the speed of the boat and the power of the waves sliding by along the rail. From time to time a wave would strike the side, flinging salt spray into my eyes.
I felt the wind on my face and tasted salt on my tongue and knew what it was to be alive. I breathed deep, exulting in the racing of my heart and the cool air in my lungs. We flew!
