Unto us a son is born Unto us a son is given

“My dear brother Maeldun,” said Aileran, smiling for the first time that evening, “granted that our reverend abbott Ultan is much better versed in some matters of the spirit than are any of we; nevertheless, when it comes to matters such as these, he has shown himelf to be an insufferable pig’s ass.” Maeldun glanced around the scriptorium at the faces of the other monks, some of whom smiling at Aileran’s remark, and tried to shake from his mind the nagging thought that they might be mocking him, although his heart told him otherwise.

“True enough, brother Aileran.” It was Finan speaking from his desk by the small window. He turned to Maeldun. “You see, we have, each of us at one time or another, shared your feelings about the Brotherhood. We have each pondered on the question of whether it is a sinful thing to keep it secret, and to a man we have come tfo the same conclusion: one must realize the higher good.” Finan, too, was smiling. Around him, the brothers had resumed their copying and drawing. Maeldun sat pensively s.taring at the half-completed page of Testament before him and dipped the tip of his pen in and put of the little jar of sand. Truly, he thought, the abbott was a holy old man, revered by many and wise with age, whose tender concern for each of the brothers here at Sceilig Mhichil was that of a saint. Surely it would not hurt to reveal to him what so many of his flock already knew.