I lifted my head slowly. The candles had burned low; the night was far spent. Abbot Fraoch gazed down upon me, nodded gravely, and I stood. He passed on, moving among the prostrate bodies. I watched him as he stepped this way and that. In a little while, he stopped before Brocmal, touched him, and bade him stand. Brocmal rose and looked around; he saw me and inclined his head, as if in approval. The abbot continued on, walking with slow, almost aimless steps, over and around the praying monks until he came to Brother Libir. He knelt, touched Libir, and told him to stand up on his feet.

And there we were: we three, quietly observing one another-Brocmal and Libir in gratitude and pleasure, and myself in amazement. I was chosen! The thing I sought above all else had been granted me; I could scarce believe my good fortune. I stood trembling with triumph and delight.

"Rise brothers," Fraoch croaked, "look upon God's chosen ones." Then he called us by name: "Brocmal…Libir…and Aidan, come forth." He summoned us and we took our places beside him. The other monks looked on. "Brothers, these three will undertake the pilgrimage on our behalf. May the High King of Heaven be exalted!"

Sixty pairs of eyes blinked at us in mingled surprise and, for some, disappointment. I could almost hear what they were thinking. Brocmal, yes, of course; he was a master of all learning and bookwise craft. Libir, yes, a thousand times yes! Renowned for his wisdom and quiet zeal, Libir's patience and piety were already legendary throughout Eire. But Aidan mac Cainnech? It must be a mistake-the disbelief on their faces was not difficult to read. More than one monk wondered why he had been passed over for me.

But Abbot Fraoch seemed more than pleased with the choices. "Let us now thank God and all the saints for this most satisfactory conclusion to our long deliberations."