Darerca

CHAPTER 1

Pope Celestine was embroiled in a meeting with a man called Palladius, and he had just handed the tall man a commission with the papal seal affixed. The Holy Father then went on to explain the contents of the commission.
"There are many Scotti in Ireland and we must minister to them. If Ireland doesn't work out go directly to Caledonia and minister from there. It's a lifelong commitment and should you need to contact us write letters. They should eventually get here." Pope Celestine 1st made a sign of the cross as he uttered these last few words. To give them their due, the Romans had improved the postal system and had engineered new roads and routes. How will you get there Palladius? Overland, through Gaul?"
"No, by ship, God willing."
"From Ostia, no doubt," Celestine said, showing he ppl had some good knowledge of practical matters. It was known that he was a Roman and that he had been appointed in 422 AD.
The man standing in front of him was from a well-known family in Gaul but he was leaving all that behind to become a missionary in countries up north who up to now had shown more of a barbarian nature than a Christian one - Hibernia, Britannia and Caledonia. Palladius was a tall individual with tanned skin and deep blue eyes. He could be a forceful man and was dogged in his convictions. He was a man of languages - his native tongue of Gaul, Latin, Greek, English and Gaelic.
Celestine on the other hand was older and had carved a name for himself by opposing certain heresies, in particular, that of pelagianism - a view in Britannia that original sin did not taint human beings, and he was also vigorously opposed to Nestorius and his teachings out east. There were rumours that he had high connections and was related to the Emperor Valentinian. Palladius didn't care much for rumours and gossip but he did have to admit that the Holy Father possessed a bearing that carried power and authority. He had heard Celestine speak about his own father, a man called Priscus, who had brought them up in Campania. The Romans knew the area as Campania Felix or fertile countryside and it was an area rich in culture boasting of the isles of Capri and Ischia, the cities of Capua and Napoli, and ancient archaeology sites like Pompeii, Aeclanum, Herculaneum, Oplontis, Paestum, Velia and Stabiae, the coastline of Amalfi and the brooding Mount Vesuvius. The land itself had been occupied since early times by the Osci, Samnites and Etruscan people. It was also said of Celestine that he had been influenced in his earlier life by Ambrose of Milano - a Doctor of the church.
Celestine smiled at the younger man. "A ship is probably best given the considerable distance involved. You'll write and keep in touch?"
Palladius stood to go and kissed the pontiff's ring with his cold, thin lips. "I'll write, Holy Father."
"God go with you, my son."

*

Palladius found himself at the Roman port of Ostia two nights later, all of his 'goodbyes' said and all his packing done. He was married with a young daughter but he had made provisions for them. He didn't want to dwell too long on his daughter or he wouldn't want to go. He tried to explain and his wife understood better than their daughter. He tried to explain it was an important commission as though from God himself via his earthly emissary, the Pope. The only other family was a married brother and his family. His sister-in-law and their two sons - his nephews. He'd probably miss his nephews the most although there were promises to catch up in later years and to keep in touch. Palladius certainly hoped they could keep that promise.
The small harbour of Ostia was within the jurisdiction of the city known as Ostia Antica, but larger harbour areas had been developed at the mouth of the Tiber River, notably Portus under the rule of Claudius and a larger one again under the rule of Trajan. Still, for the trip north the ship that would take Palladius was at anchor in the old harbour. Palladius had the old trepidation in boarding, hoping and praying for fair winds that would bring them safely to their destination.
When it came to ship building the Romans had been slow to react. The Carthaginians who the Romans hated had long since controlled many Mediterranean Sea routes and they were unmatchable when it came to ship-building. They were head and shoulders above the rest. The Carthaginians were essentially Phoenicians, a people synonymous with boats and ship building. The Egyptians and the Greeks began a program of ship-building and eventually Rome was playing catch-up. One key advantage Rome had when it came to shipbuilding was the availability of good, quality wood like fir and oak. Soon, Rome was turning out war-galleys and building up its fleet. The Romans were able to improve the sails, making them less reliant on stern winds.
The sailing was a night departure so the people milling about the harbour did so under the lights of oil lamps, lamps with a small wicker powered by lit olive oil. Part of the cargo in the hold tonight was olive oil, bottled for countries up north that didn't have that oil and were unable to produce it because of harsher weather conditions - olive oil was in no short supply under the boiling sun conditions of the Roman Empire.
The ship was a trireme which meant it had three banks of oars. There could be limited space aboard for the two hundred crew with regard to food and water so oftentimes they had to hug coastlines where they could stock up and resupply. Often the crew would disembark to eat.
It was a starry night when the ship slipped anchor and left the harbour, cutting north on a course that would bypass Sardinia and allow stops in Marseilles and Nice in Gaul. From there they would turn south skirting the east coast of Hispania, and resupplying again in Barcelona, before continuing south towards the Straits of Gibraltar. From Gibraltar they would turn north again but exposed this time to Atlantic swells and bigger seas. They would travel the west side of Portugal and Hispania. The Romans had a tendency mainly in literature and culture to call Portugal by the name of Lusitania.

As usual, the weather was rough and unpredictable as they negotiated the Bay of Biscay. The ship rolled and squealed and creaked.
Another point of contention came near Land's End, a rocky graveyard for ships.

The final stretch of the journey for Palladius involved the Oceanus Hibernicus, the mass of water between Britannia and Cambria and Hibernian. Further north it was the water between Hibernian and Caledonia.

He landed at Arklow - An t'Inbhear Mhor. Palladius watched his ship leave with mixed feelings. There was no going back now. He shouldered his bag and turned inland.

*

He wasn't finding Arklow great for his preaching. There were no 'Scotti' and his brief was to seek them out. He was told to take himself and his teachings north away from here. The 'Scotti' were north, he was told. "Go north...leave us to our ways."
"Can't blame them," Benedict said. "They're too set in their ways." Benedict was a young Hibernian who had begun following Palladius having heard him preaching. He was a thin, red haired individual with a faint limp.

Followers of Christ, especially preachers and missionaries often found enthusiastic followers and it was something that was encouraged. It was how Jesus had operated a few hundred years ago; and later the apostles and Saint Paul.

In Caledonia he had found a welcome refuge. His heart had been taken by the remote isles, the Highlands, by the glens and the valleys and the rivers and the ways of the Caledonians. He'd settled in the Mearns area of Kincardineshire. He had found the people very accepting of his teachings. He was gratified that some went away to preach themselves and to build new churches. Cathedrals and churches sprang up, many made of stone that would survive the passage of time. And the weather. It got its fair share of wind and rain and snow. A true northern climate.

He knew it wasn't the end. He was there to pave the way, a bit like John the Baptist's role in preparing the way for his cousin, Jesus. Palladius now had a few followers besides Benedict.

Rather than find himself in a similar situation to that of Hibernia he had found it best to settle in eastern Caledonia away from the fierce clans that occupied the west and the Highlands.

He found that time passed quickly. In Rome, Celestine had died. Sixtus 111 was his successor but eight years later Leo the Great had taken the reins. Palladius was nearing the end of his ministry.

The summons from Leo the Great surprised him. He arranged a ship passage on a warship returning to Rome.
He kissed the ring of the Pontiff. "I've heard great stories about your mission. Have you won over the Scotti?"
"I believe so, your eminence," Palladius replied cautiously. He went on to explain about the Picts  the Scotti, the clans and the many chieftains in the Highlands, and he gave a brief description of Hibernia and his rejection there by the people. Leo waved that one aside. "It's early days," he remarked. "You seem to have done phenomenal work. What now for your ministry? Back to Scotti? Caledonia?"
"Yes, your eminence."
"I'd like to thank you for coming to Rome at such short notice. We've taken the liberty of arranging passage back. Since taking the reins of power in Rome, I make it my business to get to know all of our people including those appointed by my predecessors Sixtus 111 and Celestine, God bless their souls."
"Indeed," Palladius agreed. "Thank you for arranging my passage."
The Pope waved. "Two days from now. Relax and see a bit of the holy city."
He bid farewell to the Pontiff.

*

He had been back about a week when he had a vision. A man stop a magnificent horse called out to him: "Palladius, I am Victorious. I see you have done well here in Caledonia but one is coming who will complete your work."
"Here," Palladius asked, "in Caledonia?"
Victorious shook his head. "No," he explained, " in Hibernia."
"He'll have his work cut out."
"No doubt," Victorious agreed, "but nevertheless we think he'll get the job done. He knows the people. "
"He's not from there, then?"
Victorious shook his head.
"Where is he from?" Palladius persisted.
Victorious shook his head, in frustration this time. "Many will ask that. Some will say he's from here. Kirkpatrick! Others will say Britannia - Northamptonshire. Others will say Hadrian's Wall. Some might even say Gaul. He'll be from Cambria, a village called Banna Venta Berniae."
It was time for Palladius to shake his head in frustration. " They'll never accept him. Someone from across the water. From Britannia, from Cambria? Never!"
"We shall see," Victorious announced. "We shall see."
Palladius shook his head. "Even you can't be that much of an optimist?"
Victorious said nothing further.
His horse neighed, eager to hit the road.