'Those were stolen,' Murdo pointed out.

'Yes,' agreed Emlyn absently, 'I suppose they were. But they were lost just the same. Tell me, are the sheep to blame if their shepherds are lazy, ignorant, and deceitful? If the sheep could keep from wandering, there would be no need for shepherds.'

'And if sheep could fly,' suggested Murdo, 'we would call them birds.'

'Scoff if you must,' Emlyn replied, 'I expect no less. We of the Cele De have grown accustomed to mockery. Derision is the refuge of threatened ignorance, after all.'

Murdo, chastened by this rebuke, apologized for his outburst. 'All this talk of sheep and shepherds-it seemed funny to me. Please, tell me about the True Path. Why do you call it that?'

'Because it is a path,' the fat cleric insisted, 'a path of truth and understanding, leading back and back to the beginning-to the very first day when Our Lord called the Twelve to be his faithful servants. From that day, the teaching of Our Lord has been passed from one servant to the next in a single, narrow, unbroken line of succession.

'As it is written: "O, my people, hear my teaching; listen to the words of my mouth. I will open my mouth in parables; I will utter hidden things, teachings from the creation of the world-what we have heard from our fathers." And also: "When Jesu was alone, the Twelve asked him about the parables. The Lord told them, 'The secret of the Kingdom of Heaven has been given to you. But to those on the outside everything is said in parables so that they may be ever seeing, but never perceiving, and ever hearing, but never understanding.' " Thus, it has been since the beginning. The path stretches back and back, unbroken to this day.'

'But what is this teaching?' asked Murdo; he was intrigued, but growing impatient with the monk's vague explanation. 'It does not sound much different from what the bishop says back home.'

'That is where you are wrong. For, unlike so many of our dear brothers and sisters in the faith, we do not wander in error and confusion. Yet, the teaching can only be given to one who is willing to hear, and I do not think you are ready to receive it yet.' Murdo opened his mouth to protest, but Emlyn said, 'Still, I will tell you something about it, and perhaps discernment will begin to grow. The darkness is greedy, as I have said, and it is insidious. Even in those first days it was seeking what it might devour, but the presence of Our Lord kept it at bay.

'When he ascended to Heaven to begin his eternal reign, the Great Darkness sought out the weak and unwary, those it would destroy, it first led astray. Thus, even as the faith itself began to blossom and grow, darkness sowed its own seeds of error and confusion as well. Many have been deceived, and many destroyed.

'Alas! The holy church, the great fortress of the faith, has been breached, and all its bulwarks desecrated. Those who shelter within its walls – whether sheep or shepherds,' Emlyn cast a sidelong glance at Murdo, 'leaders or followers, from the highest patriarch to the most lowly scribe-all have been tainted by the darkness, and all are bereft of the Holy Light. The eyes of their hearts have withered and they glimpse the truth but dimly if they even see it at all.

'Listen to me, I make no selfish boast. Do you think I rejoice in the certain destruction of my fellow churchmen? Do you think I could derive any pleasure from the sight of the multitudes these blind guides lead astray? The loss of dear friends and the waste of souls is more bitter to me than anything I know.

'Yet, not even for their sake could I give up that which has been entrusted to me-even if that were possible. We are Keepers of the Holy Light, and we serve Him, and Him alone, who makes the light to shine. For so long as we live, we hold to the Holy Light, and we protect it against the darkness until the Day of the Redeemer.'

The monk fell silent, and after a moment Murdo asked, 'Why is it that you three are the only ones who know about all this?'

'Few, we may be,' the monk allowed, 'but not that few. No, we are not the only ones; although, with each passing year there are fewer, it is true. But your question is a good one: why us and not someone else?

'I think God has chosen the Cele De to be the keepers, because we are different from all our brothers in certain respects. The sainted Padraic used to say that God chose the Celts to guard the True Path because we live on the edge of the world-far away from the pitiless intrigues of the east.

'I have often thought about it, and I believe Old Padraic was right. The faith was first taught by Our Lord to the humble people of this world; poor folk-shepherds and farmers and potters and fishermen were blessed of God to be first to hear and believe. Only much later was the faith taken up by the kings and princes of this world the high and mighty, the governors and rulers of nations.

'So, when God began to look around for someone to be his Keepers and Guardians, his eye fell naturally upon the Celt-a race as much like those who first heard the faith as makes no difference: simple people who live close to the land and close to one another. Our homes are huts of mud and twig built in green and sheltered valleys, not great golden cities filled with hosts of strangers. Our lords are our own clansmen, men of our own tribe, not governors appointed by an emperor in a glittering palace far away. Our church is the simple expression of a naturally noble people, a folk who know nothing of religious philosophies, or ecclesiastical hierarchies, but feel in their hearts the joy of a song well sung, and the beauty of a mist-covered mountain in the pearl-like dawn of a new day.'

Murdo felt a thrill ripple through him as the cleric spoke these words-the sensation produced by the sudden recognition of a truth long suspected but never uttered aloud.

'Thus,' the priest continued, 'the Good Lord saw to it that the blessed spark was passed to the Celt, and we have kept it burning ever since. For all, we are a crafty and a cunning race, and tenacious in the deep matters of the heart and soul. Though our mother church has not escaped the ravages of the Great Darkness, her youngest offspring – tucked out of sight on the edge of the world, and beset on every side by barbarian strife and troubles such as would make the very stones weep-the youngest of our Great Mother's unruly brood has grown strong in the service of the light. The rest of the church that bears Our Lord's name may fall into disrepute and ruin, brought low by schemes and plots and scandals of every kind in the futile struggle for power and position, but we, the true Cele De, remain steadfast, holding still to the True Path.'

Emlyn paused, and after a moment sighed. 'Ah, fy enaid,' he said, his voice sinking into the night. 'I fear I have said too much.'

'Not at all,' Murdo assured him. 'I begin to understand-I think. But what if you are wrong? What if there is no Holy Light, no True Path?'

'I, too, have wondered this,' the cleric replied thoughtfully. 'I have pondered long and hard over it. And I think it comes down to this: if we are wrong in our belief, what is the worst? Well, at worst a handful of misguided monks have deluded themselves into thinking they had a special duty, nothing more.'

This reply did more to endear the rotund priest to Murdo than anything he had said, or could have said. He had never heard a cleric admit even the least shadow of doubt or uncertainty. Here was a monk who not only acknowledged it, but reckoned the likelihood in his thinking.

'But if we are right, what then?' continued Emlyn. 'Then the future of the faith and the souls of mankind are in our hands-given to us for safekeeping. So you see, whether we are right or wrong, we dare not lay aside our charge.'

'I see,' Murdo replied. 'But if no one will show us the True Path, how will anyone ever become ready to receive the teaching? And why must it remain secret?'