1220: Winter, Inchmore, Great Hall: Council Meeting

Play by Post Campaigns Ars Magica 5th Edition: Isle of Wrath
1

1220: Winter, Inchmore, Great Hall: Council Meeting

Winter brings a bitter chill to the island every year, with the damp waters of the lake only deepening the cold. Today, a thick mist clings to the surface, swirling lazily in the wind while the guards on watch grumble and hold their gloved hands over the braziers. The lake is calm and nearly empty of river traffic at this time of year, yet only nearly. From the watchtowers, one can still see the occasional craft emerging from the fog, plying the waters to and from the docks of Athlone. One such boat rowed slowly through the mist to dock at the island's quay, carrying a solitary messenger. Making his way to the base of the quay tower, he called up in a booming voice.

"I bear a letter for your lords! One they will certainly want to see!" he hailed, producing a sealed parchment and holding it aloft.

Inside, the great hall of the manor was comfortably warm, fueled by a roaring fire in the massive stone hearth. Today, the hall was arranged for affairs of state: the long table and heavy wooden chairs of the Council of Magi sat in the place of honor upon the raised dais, positioned to face the rest of the room. Below the dais, on the main floor, stood a second long table with somewhat less ornate chairs where the Council of Advisors sat, facing the Magi above them.

The messenger surrendered the letter to the sergeant commanding the quay tower for the day as the man descended from the watch floor. The messenger stood for a moment with an expectant expression, awaiting a coin or a token for his trouble. The sergeant merely offered a jerk of his chin and a mild frown. The messenger’s frown deepened, but he turned on his heel and trudged back to his boat to begin the return trip to the city. Low grumbling echoed across the water as he rowed away into the fog. Giving another silent nod to his men, the sergeant turned and marched toward the manor at a brisk pace.

In the hall, one of the kitchen maids moved along the High Table, pouring small beer from a heavy clay pitcher into the cups of each Magus with careful, precise movements. As she poured for Atheus, moving just a fraction too fast, a few stray drops spilled onto the polished oak. Visibly paling, her eyes widening in sudden dread, she deftly wiped away her mistake with the hem of her apron before moving on. Yet any attentive eye could catch the sharp, narrowing frown from Lady Gillean seated below among the Council of Advisors. Tracked by the Lady Chamberlain's unforgiving gaze, the maid finished her rounds and hastily retreated toward the kitchens.

The sergeant pushed through the main doors of the manor house, pausing just inside as his eyes searched the room, mild agitation plain on his face. Sir Raymond walked past on his way to the meeting, eying the soldier. The sergeant offered the letter desperately, and with an amused flourish, the knight relieved him of the parchment without breaking his stride. However, a quick glance at the crest and the formal address left the knight with a subtle frown of his own.

Bailiff Sean was speaking. "...all of which leaves Inchmore with twenty-five pounds of silver in the treasury. We are faring well, and I am confident in healthy growth for the coming year," he concluded, his tone easy and self-assured as he finished reviewing the covenant’s finances. He looked up and down the High Table before beginning to settle back into his seat. As he did, Steward Tadgh received the letter passed down from Sir Raymond, eyed the seal for a brief moment, and used a thin-bladed iron knife to slice it open.

Within moments, as the contents sank in, Tadgh drew himself up to his full height and addressed the High Table. "My Lords, I have just received a letter from Bishop John Osmund of Athlone. It is of such immediate import that, by your leave, I shall read it to you now." Frowning down at the parchment, he cleared his throat and began.

Tadgh lowered the parchment to the table, his face souring further with every word until his displeasure was entirely unconcealed. Turning a grimace toward the High Table, he shook his head.

"My Lords, this is most serious. He lays several traps for us here," he said, gesturing sharply at the letter. "The English swine wants to tusk in our petticoats."

2

Atheus was visibly daydreaming while Sean spoke, which might come with some surprise to anyone who saw how often he talked to and discussed with the Bailiff after his arrival at Inchmore. He seemed to barely notice when the kitchen maid spilled beer in front of him, absentmindedly taking a sip as the girl cleaned the table.

He also didn't seem to register a single word said by the steward as the man read the letter, fiddling with his voting sigil - a silver coin - in between his fingers. However, as soon as Tadgh finished he raised his hand, showing the silver coin to his sodales in order to grab their attention.

"Render to Caesar what is Caesar's, isn't that the instruction of Christ?"

"Now, I'm no good Christian, I reckon... Regardless, Christian I am. Yes, I know I differ in that from some of my sodales. But see, I'm no vassal to mundane lords either, but I'm willing to submit, in things that cause us no consequence, in order to avoid trouble. Isn't the same for all of us, and isn't the matter of the tithe the same?"

"But Lord Atheus, that's..." Tadgh started, stopping at a gesture and a single look from Atheus.

"Relax, Tadgh. I'm not done. Yes, I support paying the tithe. Sean has just disclosed our finances, and if I'm not mistaken, I believe that to be within our capabilities. But... To Caesar what is Caesar's. Since when are we under the English bishop? Our tithe should go to the Irish Church."

3

Conall sits very still as the intent of the letter becomes clear and while Atheus speaks, his eyes focused on the parchment as it transitions from Tadgh's hands to the table, rather than on any of the magi.

“I agree - we should not be sending a tithe to an English bishop,” he says after Atheus concludes.

Then, frowning slightly, “Before we send something anywhere, I would know what, if anything, was agreed when the covenant was founded. Did the founders make some bargain with the Church, either English or Irish? An exemption, or an obligation, or some other promise we were not told?”

His fingers tap once against the table.
“And I wonder why this English bishop asks for our tithe now, and at the manner in which he asks. Does he simply want more coin from a new source he has heard about and always gets his way through heavy-handed threats? Or does he already know who we are and wish to assert his authority over a covenant of magi? What do we know about him and his motives?”

4

Diarmaid rises to his feet as Emelric finishes speaking, his eyes and expression animated with zeal even before he begins to reply. "Lords, this is just the sort of abuse by the English clergy that is taking place across the Isle. There has never been a settlement on Inchmore of our like before, and thus never been a need to associate with any diocese. The village of fishermen here was largely beneath notice. It appears we are not. Moreover the English have been systematically redrawing such boundaries, unsurprisingly to their own benefit, regardless of preexisting boundaries and associations. This is why he wishes to draw us into his Cathedral Court. He may decide the case himself there, and will be presumed the lawful ecclesiastical authority in any appeal to a higher Church court or official concerning a case before his own court. Setting foot there would already be an admission he is the proper authority." he says, his gestures growing more animated. He nods deeply, nearly a bow, towards Atheus. "You speak just my own thoughts my Lord. If we let this Bishop draw us in, it will serve to enrich the very institutions that oppress our land. Finding a way to align our tithe with the Irish Church would be a true coup, if we can arrange a way to escape his grasp in a way that he would find little recourse against in any Canon Law. It must be something that prevents him from wielding the courts of the Church against us, as he has already threatened."

5

Vorsutus has taken a silent interest in the proceedings since the arrival of the letter it being read aloud, his eyes following each speaker intently. Finally he leans forward to place his hands firmly on the table before him as his attention refocuses towards the Covenants Ambassador to Athlone. "Sir Raymond, I find it unlikely that this will have transpired without the awareness of Baron Montrose. Or indeed his approval. Would you agree with me?"

"I do, Lord. The Bishop I think would fear to be seen as upsetting any plans of the Baron, in any way. It would surprise me if he did not give his leave." says the knight, coming half to his feet to speak and then settling again.

Vorsutus nods firmly in reply before he continues. "Then we should take this as a testing of our resolve by the Baron as much as by the Bishop. Being found wanting of will and tractable now that we are on our own would be a mistake that would shape how both of these men would see us moving forward. Their attempts to interfere with us would only grow." he says, a mild grimace crossing his features. "Magus Atheus has the right of it, I think. We must find a way to remove ourselves." he says, inclining his head towards Diarmaid as he continues "As you say, unquestionably, remove ourselves from the influence of this Bishop. And quickly before he can render a judgment in his own favor." he says, one hand coming up to stroke the braid of his beard thoughtfully. He turns towards Tadhg. "Mmm. You are learned in Church Law, are you not Steward? We will need a strategy that is compelling even for such a sniveling Church Man." he says, pronouncing each word of Church Man distinctly and with disdain. "How can we thread this needle in a way that settles the matter in our favor?"

6

Einarr sat leaning back in a heavy oak chair that groaned under his massive frame, idly spinning a small, unpolished silver coin between two thick, scarred knuckles. He had listened to the bishop’s flowery prose with an expression that drifted from mild boredom to absolute, incredulous amusement. When Tadgh finally finished reading and gave his grim assessment about the English swine, the giant let out a sudden, booming laugh that rattled the clay pitchers on the High Table.

He slapped a heavy palm down on the polished oak, the sharp crack cutting right through the tense, sour silence of the Great Hall. "A tenth of our grain? A tenth of our catch?" Einarr shook his head, a fierce, toothy grin spreading across his broad face as his piercing eyes swept across the Council of Magi. "This shaved-headed Christ-man has his ledger entirely backward. On the Isle of Man, and everywhere else the blood of the north flows, the temples do not collect tribute from the warriors. It is exactly the other way around. Churches are where we go when the treasury runs low and the men want soft gold and heavy silver chalices. They pay us when we kick their doors down, not the other way around."

Leaning forward, his towering stature making him look as though he were standing even while seated, Einarr rested his massive forearms on the table. The humor faded from his eyes, replaced by the cool, calculating gaze of a mercenary reviewing a highly unfavorable contract.

"From a legal standpoint, it’s quite simple," Einarr continued, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly rumble. "We have signed no pact with this Bishop John. We owe him no oaths, we have broken no treaties, and we certainly haven't agreed to any terms that require us to line his pockets with our hard-earned silver. If he wants an 'episcopal audit' of our estate, let him march his tithing-men and his priests right up to our ringfort gates. I will gladly show them what a vanguard of heavy steel looks like up close. We'll see how much grain he can carry back to Athlone after my men are done auditing his ribcage."

7

"I understand your feelings, sodales, but we must think of the long term implications. If the bishop comes with his troops and we met him in kind, it will be hard to claim to the quaesitores that we are not guilty of interfering with the mundanes".

"In answering Conall, Diarmaid tells us that we have no prior agreement with the churchmen, is that right? But the fact that he will be presumed the rightful authority concerns me. If we take the route of a Canon approach to avoid paying, he will eventually come up with a reason to subvert it in his favor. Also, such an approach must not rely on appealing to a higher authority, as that might take some time to bear fruits. It can be done, but must not be our only option. I'm still inclined to paying the tithe to the Irish. It's easy for Osmund to argue that our argument for not paying up is invalid. It's harder for him to argue that the tithe should go to him instead of the Irish faction, and if he tries, they will help us fight his claims. Let them fight between themselves."

"And also, as Conall well asked, are we sure the bishop knows nothing about us being magi? Raymond, do you have information on that?"

8

"Ultimately, we want to avoid any pacts being made. But it's best to keep everyone happy to avoid any animosity. Contributing to the local churches, towns, etc. keeps us in everyone's good graces. And local prosperity should only help us."

9

Ciara continues, "I have no love for the English. They should be driven from the lands. But care must be taken. An English clergyman will be replaced with an Irish one when the English are driven from here. In the meantime, we should not antagonize anyone so that our driving away of the English and the continental magi can be done on our schedule."

10

The cold of January intrudes but only little into the fire warmed great hall of Inchmore Manor as the Council Meeting of the Covenant continues.

Einarr's laughter, and threats, fill the hall for a moment. Diarmaid shrinks before them, licking his lips and inclining his head nervously. "Ah. Of course my lord, yet-" he starts, clearly about to object before being interrupted.

Atheus speaks and directs a question towards Sir Raymond.

Sir Raymond comes half to his feet, speaking with his eyes towards Atheus. "My Lord I am quite certain the common man knows nothing of the nature of the Council, for now. Yet we know the Baron has joined the Coill Tri in his own right. And he holds the leash of the Bishop. I am not certain precisely what the Bishop knows, but it is certain that the Baron always acts on what he knows. I have only spoken with Baron de Montrose personally a few times yet my impression is he desires to build rapport and test the waters for a deeper relationship. He mentioned commerce between us once, for instance. Yet this, I would agree with Lord Vorsutus, is a test by which he and the Bishop intend to measure us." he says, some agitation betrayed on his features. "As for solutions to such a spiritual matter, I am afraid I have none. Though I think attacking the Cathedral would, ah, more than irritate the Baron." he says, though his lips twitch with some amusement as he inclines his head at the last towards Einarr.

Ciara speaks in the opening after the knight finishes, as he lowers himself back to his seat.

Tadhg looks to her with his features betraying some mild alarm before coming to his feet and turning his attention back toward Atheus. "I agree with your lordship completely." he says inclining his head and gesturing towards Vorsutus. "Both of you, in fact. A Canon Law solution is needed. A way to firmly remove us from the presumptive diocese of this English Bishop and keep ourselves out of his ecclesiastical authority." he says his eyes moving back and forth hurriedly as he speaks. His tone shifts to thoughtful, even speculative, as he continues. "In the general system most ways even of devoting a tithe to some other beneficiary require the approval of the local Bishop. Approval we can assume we won't receive. We need another way."

Diarmaid seems to have recovered his wits. Still on his feet he turns eagerly towards Tadhg before he speaks. "There is the Inchmore Priory!" he says, raising a finger as if he has made some substantive point. "It predates both us and the new diocese, and so does Incheleraun! Where the Abbey is ancient and Irish." he says excitedly. "Surely, Tadhg, you see the implications?" he says leadingly towards the Steward.

Tadhg raises his brows with some mild surprise before giving a slow smile. "Indeed, you clever devil, I think I do." he says, before turning back towards the Council of Magi. "The Priory here on Inchmore, it can be easily asserted, is our most immediate ecclesiastical association. We and they are not, strictly speaking, of any great connection currently so normally this wouldn't matter. Yet we could make a substantial endowment to the Priory, to become their lay patron and in doing so they would become our most immediate church. This would justify us paying our tithes to them instead. Yet they would still owe tithes up to the Bishop. But it would keep most of our tithes here on the island. However initially creating such a relationship normally requires the approval of the Bishop regardless. Yet there is a way around that."

Diarmaid interjects, nodding excitedly. "Yes! Inchmore Priory was founded long ago by the Abbey of Incheleraun, an ancient Irish House of the Church founded by my namesake Saint Diarmaid the Just!" he says, his energy growing more zealous. "As a monastery founded by an established Irish Saint, in the Irish Church Incheleraun has the pedigree to establish a Paruchia with subordinate Houses of the Church. And to such subordinate Houses the Abbot would be the ecclesiastical authority, not the Bishop. And thus the Abbot could approve our patronage and association with the Priory. And be who would receive the share of our tithes that the Priory would pay, rather than the Bishop. As Inchmore Priory was founded by them, and is an Augustinian House of the same Rule and Order as they, there would be no denying the relationship. It would simply be for the Abbot to assert it in Canon Law."

Tadhg strokes his beard thoughtfully for a silent moment. "It could work. I believe you may have found a back door Diarmaid! Yet it would require us to win over both the Priory and the Abbey to our cause. Perhaps no small matter. It would no doubt put the Abbot and the Bishop against each other for the foreseeable future. Yet it could work, if we could get the agreement and participation of both the Priory and the Abbey. From our perspective it would keep most of our tithes actually here on Inchmore and in our own community. We may even be able to arrange for the Right of Presentation as the local authorities and patron of the Priory. This would give us the right to approve priests joining the Priory and to nominate candidates for the Vicar of the Priory, generally subject to the approval of the Abbot. And perhaps this could all win us an ally in the Church in the form of the Abbey of Incheleraun. Yet there will likely be entanglements and overtures to be made in order to make these things happen. Or we pay the Bishop, as I don't think I've any other solutions nearly so neat. Unless there are other ideas? What say you my Lords?"

11

Vorsutus starts to raise a placating hand towards Einarr yet subsides and becomes engrossed in listening to the exchange going on in the Council. Quietly he seems to soak in the arguments and their implications. Only once Tadhg asks for the input of the Council does he start to speak.

"We already claim the isle of Inchmore as an Allod, in accord with the ways of Hibernia. The Covenant is new and the Priory and the Crannog Men were here before us, yet we should leave no doubt to any who might observe that now this isle is ours. To do otherwise would leave strategic space for those who might seek to cause us trouble in the future." he says, frowning and turning thoughtfully towards Atheus. "Nor am I any more fond than you of the idea of paying the English in any way. If this strategy can secure us both control over the Priory on our own island and evade this braying English donkey, then I will support it and say it is nothing more than the enforcement of our own rights as an Allod. In this matter we exert no influence beyond our own shores, so I see no grounds for complaint at Tribunal. Certainly we damage none of our Sodales." he says before pausing thoughtfully. "I do not think however that I am the man who should go and come to terms with these Church Men." he says, some amusement showing on his lips as he continues.

Standing he raises his voting sigil, a fine wooden spiral wand, and gestures towards the rest of the Council with his free hand. "I cast my vote in favor of this strategy. Further I nominate Atheus to oversee the matter on the behalf of the Council."

12

Atheus listens attentively to Raymond's answer and Ciara's comments, nodding in agreement to the last.

He raises an eyebrow while hearing the discussion between Diarmaid and Tadhg, and raises the other one upon Vorsutus suggestion. He looks around at his sodales before raising his voting sigil again.

"I'm also in favor of the strategy. As for my nomination to oversee the subject, I'm honored by the suggestion and by the trust, and I even dare to agree that some of my sodales might not be the best options." He stares, grinning slightly, at Vorsutus and Einarr.

"I'm also in favor of overseeing the matter, if you all agree with that."

13

Ciara listens to the dizzying discussion of the approach to keeping the tithes in the local community and among the Irish. "I cannot say I understand all of the rules coming into play here, but if it will do as you say, I firmly back the plan. I vote in favor of the strategy."

14

"I too back it," adds Connall as he transfers the ancient, knapped-edge flint that serves as his voting sigil from his robes to the table, to reinforce his agreement. "At least until we know more about the Augustinian Abbot and what powers back him. I wonder whether our plan will simply cause the English Bishop to attempt to subsume the monastery and its territory. Can the abbot withstand such a ploy? Is it already in motion? I suggest you try to assess this, Atheus."