“And why will that be, O Colum of Eiré?” said Ardan. Then the smile went out of Colum’s grey eyes, and he turned and looked about him.
He beheld, near, a crow, a horse, and a hound.
“These are thy brethren,” he said scornfully.
But Ardan answered quietly, “Even so.”
The third hour they talked about the beasts of the earth and the fowls of the air.
At the last Ardan said: “The ancient wisdom hath it that these are the souls of men and women that have been, or are to be.”
Whereat Colum answered: “The new wisdom, that is old as eternity, declareth that God created all things in love. Therefore are we at one, O Ardan, though we sail to the Isle of Truth from the West and the East. Let there be peace between us.”
“Peace,” said Ardan.
That eve, Ardan of the Picts sat with the monks of Iona. Colum blessed him and said a saying. Oran of the Songs sang a hymn of beauty. Ardan rose, and put the wine of guests to his lips, and chanted this rune:
O Colum and monks of Christ,