By Stephen R. Lawhead
Born to rule even if born to rule, Aidan lives as a scribe in a distant Irish monastery at the a ways, wild fringe of Christendom. safe in paintings, contemplation, and desires of the broader international, a miracle bursts into Aidan's quiet lifestyles. he's selected to accompany a small band of priests on a quest to the farthest japanese reaches of the identified global, to the fabled urban of Byzantium, the place they're to give a gorgeous and expensive hand-illuminated manuscript, the booklet of Kells, to the Emperor of all Christendom. hence starts off an day trip via sea and over land, as Aidan turns into, by way of turns, a warrior and a sailor, a slave and a secret agent, a Viking and a Saracen, and eventually, a guy. He sees extra of the area than such a lot males of his time, changing into an envoy to kings and an intimate of Byzantium's fabled Golden courtroom. and eventually this valiant Irish monk faces the best trial that could confront any guy in any age: commanding his personal future.
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Extra info for Byzantium (Harper Fiction)
Said Brother Enerch, the chief herdsman. “Prudence, brother,” advised Adamnan, sitting beside him. “When next we sit together, one of us will have supped with the emperor. ” wondered Brother Rhodri next to me. Oh, they meant it for jest, but their words filled me with apprehension. Though they tried to engage me in pleasant conversation, I could not rise to their banter and quit the board after only a few bites, claiming that I must gather my belongings. Leaving the refectory, I walked quickly across the yard to the scriptorium.
BYZANTIUM / 57 I let them pass me by, and waited for the wagon to draw near. God bless him, Dugal had wangled himself a place in the escort party so I might walk with him. In fact, we would have another two days at least—the time it took to walk to the coast—before parting forever. This single thought gave wings to my soul. Dugal saw me. Smiling a sly, self-satisfied smile, he welcomed me as I fell into step beside him. ” “The thought never crossed my mind, Dugal,” I lied. ” “I thought it was better this way,” he replied, the sly smile reappearing.
He looked at me and smiled thinly. ” “Of course,” said Diarmot. “Aidan and I will bring the cups. ” “Please, allow me to help you,” said Gwilym rising quickly. “No, no,” replied Diarmot adamantly. “You are our guests. I could not possibly allow you to fetch your own drink. ” The stubborn Diarmot loomed over me like a threat, so I rose and followed him to the kitchen to fill a jar while he found the cups. When we returned to the board, other monks had joined the three Britons, and I did not have another chance to speak to them alone.