Free The Black Rood by Stephen R. Lawhead

you.’ So I said, ‘Who are you, lord?’ For I thought it might be an angel speaking to me.”
    â€œOh, aye,” murmured the vassals, knowingly—as if they were well used to conversing with angels.
    Eirik raised his hands for quiet, and continued. “The stranger looked at me, and said, ‘I am a friend, and well known to your family.’ And I did not know what to say to this. ‘How can this be?’ I ask. ‘I have never seen you before.’ This brings a smile to my strange visitor’s lips. ‘Brother Eirik,’ he says to me, for he knows my name, as I say. ‘Come, I must be about my business.’
    â€œHe turned and walked a little away from the camp, and bade me to follow. I did, and he said, ‘The day is coming when the church your father builds will be my home. Tell Murdo to look for me.’
    â€œI agree to deliver the message, and ask, ‘What name shall I give him?’ And this is the strangest part of all, for the stranger merely raised his hand in farewell, and replied, ‘Tell him the Lord of the Promise is well pleased with his servant.’
    â€œAnd then,” Eirik concluded, “he disappeared into the wood the way he had come.”
    The vassals gabbled in astonishment and, when it was certain the bishop had no more to tell them, they went away shaking their heads in awe of this miraculous occurrence.
    â€œI have delivered the message, Father,” Eirik said. “What does it mean?”
    â€œIt was your vision,” Murdo replied sharply. “You tell me.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked quickly away.
    The bishop sent his monks along to the abbey, and I walked with Eirik to the hall. “That was well done,” I told him when we were alone. “How did you find out about the White Priest?”
    He stopped in midstep and turned to me. “How did you know he was a priest?” he demanded.
    â€œYou must have said it just now.”
    â€œI said nothing about that,” he insisted adamantly, and I felt a sudden tingle raise the hairs on my arms.
    â€œ Was he a priest?” I asked.
    â€œYou know very well that he was,” Eirik said. “But I kept that part of my tale back on purpose. You have had it from someone else.”
    â€œAnd so have you,” I accused. “I know what you’re trying to do. The vassals may be gulled by your talk of visions in the night, but I am not. I doubt Murdo will be taken in by it, either.”
    Eirik regarded me with a look of exasperated pity. “Duncan, Duncan, what are you saying? Do you think I made up a tale? Is that what you think?”
    â€œOf course you did,” I told him. “It is nothing to me one way or the other, but—” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “What? Are you telling me now it was true?”
    â€œIn the name of all that is holy, it is the very truth,” he declared. “It happened just as I told it. Why would I concoct such a tale?”
    â€œTo discover the secret—”
    The light of understanding broke over my brother just then. “Murdo and Emlyn’s secret—is that what you mean? You believe I made up a story to try to draw them into confession?”
    â€œYes,” I admitted. “That is what I thought. And I hope it works, too.”
    â€œBrother,” replied Eirik with a smile, “you are far more devious than I imagined. I do believe you have the guile of the young Lord Murdo himself about you, and no mistake. But surely as God is my witness,” he vowed earnestly, “it happened just as I said.”
    â€œVery well,” I allowed, accepting him at his word. “But will it work, do you think?”
    â€œIt might,” replied Eirik, thoughtfully tapping his lower lip with a fingertip. “We will have to be shrewd about it. Say nothing to either of them. Leave it with me. I think I know a way.”
    We parted company