Free Call of the Kings by Chris Page Page B

this great land of Ireland, two great influences to shape and guide us. The first one is the teachings of our great and beloved Saint Columba, who has provided us with a Christian gospel that shines a prodigious light on our everyday devotions and manner of behaviour, and the other one is Saint Patrick, who chased Lucifer out of Ireland and therefore out of the lives of ordinary folk. As you will all know, we here at the monastery have always striven to follow these teachings to the letter, especially in the matter of the destruction of Christian heretics, pagans, and apostates of all colours. To that end we had a tried and tested method of redemption for their wayward souls through the use of the Devil’s Pit. Recent events have, however, made that very difficult, with myself and two other devoted brethren being subjected to a form of torture that was heinous in the extreme . . .’ He paused and glared around at the assembled crowd before raising his good hand high and shouting, ‘Fortunately Saint Columba and Saint Patrick both observed our fate that day and saved us from an unjust heretic’s death.’
    There were shouts of ‘Praise be to Saint Columba and Saint Patrick’ from a number of the monks.
    ‘Now I come to the reason for asking you all here today. There has come among us another, third great influence and one which has only recently arrived from Cill Dara, where she has been working with the Gael kings.’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘Although most of you have met, spoken, and, in some cases, already benefited from the arrival of this person, I want to use this moment to formally introduce her to you . . . Leannan Sidhe!’
    He raised his good hand to the ceiling and again the monks took up the cry ‘Praise be to Leannan Sidhe.’
    The abbot and monks all looked up to the high wooden rafters of the monastery as a figure in a long brown habit with the cowl pulled right down over her eyes gently floated downward.
    Observing the descent the crowd began to mutter and point in excitement.
    Twilight and Tara, themselves suspended invisibly in one of the high corners of the chapel, had been observing the aura of a black-haired, blue-eyed woman in her habit preparing for this great entrance.
    Leannan Sidhe was the name of an old Irish witch goddess who was closely associated with the fairies . Twilight spoke softly and directly to Tara’s mind. Do not reply for she is too close and may pick up your words.
    Tara nodded and watched the spectacle unfold beneath her. Leannan landed gently beside the abbot, dipped the cowl in a bow to him and then to the congregation. Reaching forward the abbot removed the cowl.
    It was empty; there wasn’t a head inside.
    Then the habit was slipped off.
    Empty space, there was nothing in there.
    Holding the empty habit aloft like a performer on a stage, the abbot and the monks began to chant.
    ‘Leannan Sidhe, Leannan Sidhe, Leannan Sidhe.’
    Their chant was taken up by the congregation and soon the rafters shook to the great ululation of her name.
    Slowly a figure emerged alongside the abbot. Medium height, long jet-black tresses to her shoulder, and piercing eyes of translucent blue sapphire. Wearing a matching blue floor-length dress, Leannan Sidhe opened her arms wide in a smile of gratitude at the thunderous welcome. It was a carefully staged entrance designed to awe the congregation. Once again Kate’s mother and her former husband were the most vociferous in their welcome.
    Leannan Sidhe waved her arms downward to still the tumult.
    ‘Brethren of Skellighaven.’ Her voice was melodious yet loud enough to carry to the back of the chapel. ‘Thank you for that great welcome. Although I have only been here for a few short days, I feel as if I already belong among you.’
    Kate’s husband led a few cries of appreciation.
    ‘When I came here I discovered that you had been the victim of certain misdeeds involving sorcery with regards to your devout and just approach to