How he gained entry without knocking.

Briochan, chief druid of King Bridie, gave a cry that shivered the flat stones on both sides of the loch. ‘The name of this man who stands against us was once The Whelp, so little did his family consider his worth. Now he sidles into Pictland as Dove of the Church. What have we to fear from a chancer with such weak credentials? Let us drive him out, this twister with his foppish blether.’ On the grey rocks behind Briochan were ranged his acolytes and they cheered.

From the far side of the loch came Columba’s reply. ‘I am of the line of Niall Noígíallach and a prince of Tír Chonaill. My voice can be heard across hills and valleys. I have fought with men and devils. I mean to go and strive with King Bridie and give him the truth of the world. He will hear me as an equal. You will not stand in my way.’

‘This man is a liar,’ Shouted Briochan across the dull water. ‘His words are as flimsy as a virgin’s kisses. I have heard of his god. They nailed him to a tree and he died. Our is the power over elements handed to us from the beginning. Let us show him what we can do.’ Briochan raised his hand and a mist came down on the loch so that could it seemed as if the world had been swallowed. On the heels of the mist came a chill wind so that the men on either side were set shivering.

However, Columba’s clear voice cut away the mist. ‘See how this trick falls back at my command. Now it is nearly cleared.’ Sure enough Briochan could see across the loch. There were Columba’s men reclining on the banks here and there, at their ease. They were smiling and joking, and shaking off the chill as though they were at a fair.

‘These are my stout Culdees.’ said Columba and his voice was so loud that Briochan’s acolytes put their hands over their ears. ‘They came out of Ireland with me. Good lads, all of them.’ Columba walked down into the footwaters of the loch. ‘See now Briochan, your conjuring of vapour afflicted everyone, not just us on this side. Your followers are clapping their arms to arm up and down, like a team of sickly hurlers trying to warm up.

Have a look at my blackthorn staff. I left it by mistake on Iona, so it followed me all the way north until it arrived of its own accord this morning. Let me show you something.’

Columba brandished his staff and the sun flashed behind him so that Briochan and his men were dazzled. Then he wielded it again and the water of the loch reared in a tower that fell quickly over everyone on the opposite shore. The culdee’s laughed and applauded their priest. Briochan was left alone as his drenched followers quickly deserted him.

‘I will be at Bridie’s gates tomorrow morning. Tell him that I serve greater master than he. Now we must kneel to make our prayers.’

*

First light, as the cockerels roused themselves, the sentries at King Bridie’s fortress looked out, for they had heard a purposeful tramp on the path below. Up came Columba rangy and ready. He looked eager for the fight and his culdees crowded behind him.

Outside the gates stood a mailed war troop of Picts. They were painted in stripes and spirals and they prickled like thorny kindling. Yet they parted before Columba and his unarmed men. Briochan looked down from the battlement, saying ‘I have spoken with the King and convinced him to have nothing at all to do with you.’

Columba looked up and laughed. His voice was like swords falling down a well. ‘My vestments are as white as yours. I built a monastery in an oak grove. My tonsure is the crescent like yours. These culdees have never heard of a Pope. The tunes of our hymns are as ancient as the wind in the trees that inspired them. All is the same, the old and the new; excepting that my druid is Christ the Son of God. Now stand back. For I mean to come in and hear a while of King Bridie’s crack.’

With his blackthorn Columba then made a deliberate sign of the Holy Cross on the gates. The bolts drew back and the and the doors swung open, untouched by any mortal hand. In strode Columba, sure proud and haughty.

In this way Christianity brought to Pictland.