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- Earth- Final Conflict 02 - The First Protector - James White (v1.0) (html)/content.opf TOR en James White The First Protector 2000-02-25T07:00:00+00:00 calibre (0.7.48) [http://calibre-ebook.com] f80ec2a5-6624-4686-9e4b-f0d736ddea35 Earth- Final Conflict 02 - The First Protector - James White (v1.0) (html)/images/calibre_cover.jpg Earth- Final Conflict 02 - The First Protector - James White (v1.0) (html)/stylesheet.css@namespace h "http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"; .bold { font-weight: bold } .calibre { display: block; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 5pt; margin-right: 5pt; margin-top: 0; padding-left: 0; padding-right: 0; text-align: justify } .calibre1 { display: block } .calibre10 { color: blue } .calibre11 { text-decoration: underline } .calibre12 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 6pt; text-indent: 1em } .calibre13 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 10pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } .calibre14 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 8pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 2em } .calibre15 { color: inherit; cursor: inherit; text-decoration: inherit } .calibre16 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 10pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0 } .calibre17 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 8pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 2em } .calibre18 { font-size: 1.83333em; line-height: 1.2 } .calibre19 { color: windowtext } .calibre2 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 2em; text-align: center; text-indent: 2em } .calibre20 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 1em; text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } .calibre21 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 19pt; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 1em; text-indent: -19pt } .calibre22 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 0; text-indent: 0 } .calibre3 { font-size: 1.41667em; line-height: 1.2 } .calibre4 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 8pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 2em } .calibre5 { font-size: 1.125em; line-height: 1.2 } .calibre6 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 8pt; text-indent: 2em } .calibre7 { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 8pt; text-indent: 1em } .calibre8 { color: blue; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: underline } .calibre9 { font-size: 0.41667em } .italic { font-style: italic } .mbppagebreak { display: block; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 0; page-break-after: always } Earth- Final Conflict 02 - The First Protector - James White (v1.0) (html)/The_First_Protector.html The First Protector Earth Final Conflict 02 (2000)* James White Contents CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Book information CHAPTER ONE Excerpt from the Journal and Report on Sapient Earth Peoples, Cultures, and Levels of Technology by Investigator Ma'el on Day 112,537. In the local calendar reckoning 308 years since the Birth of the Christus, subsequent to my arrival ... - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The barbarity and senseless cruelty that pervades this beautiful land is a disappointment and constant irritation to me. My sensors reveal two nearby sources of danger involving the use of the solid weapons that these people call swords. No physical harm can befall any Taelon on this world but my new servant, who has a lively if traumatized mind and for whom I have developed a feeling of sympathy over the past few years, will certainly die if I do not eliminate the threat by revealing the full extent of my advanced technology. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Following the terrible mistake of Days 432 to 461, I have forbidden myself to interfere in the affairs of these Earth people or to display my powers to them other than with a few simple tricks. My ability to see future events on this planet has become uncertain. Unless there is a favorable combination of the laws of chance, the working of which these people call good luck, I fear that I shall lose my latest, most psychologically intriguing and affectionate servant ..." - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â On Declan's right the winter sun was dying a bloody, spectacular death behind the distant Mountains of Arne to the west and shedding a deep orange light that colored the heather and trees around him a deeper and more intense green, while the peak of Slieve Devilsipit to the northeast still remained in bright sunlight. In the near twilight to his right a full moon was rising in a clear sky that promised another night of biting frost. But Declan had no eyes for the beauties of the sunset, the moon, or the scenery around him because of the stiffness of fatigue in his limbs, which would not be improved by the mists rising from the damp ground all around him, and the resounding flatulence of hunger in his belly, which was so loud at times that he thought surely his intended victims would hear it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He had attention only for the two people in the driving seat of the tented wagon he had been following since it had left the settlement at Menagh three hours to the north. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â One of them was a tall old man wrapped in a heavy cloak whose cowl had slipped briefly to reveal a shining and utterly hairless head. The other was a boy, shorter, thin, and still too young to have hair on his chin. Their features were shaded by the awning that sheltered them from the weather. They were probably itinerant tinkers with nothing of great value in their wheeled dwelling. Declan had never before killed an old man or a boy, but he was so cold and hungry and angry that if they did not give him food, no matter how little they had for themselves, he might do just that. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Trying to still the chattering of his teeth and angry with impatience, Declan pulled his ragged cloak more tightly about him and began gradually closing the distance to the wagon, but keeping among the trees and undergrowth that bordered the rutted track the tinkers were using. He would wait until they had stopped for the night, probably in the wooded region a few leagues ahead, and were preparing their evening meal before making his attack. He checked that his long-axe was moving freely in its shoulder harness and at his waist the gladius, which had failed to protect the life of its former Roman owner, was also easy in its scabbard. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The sunset had died to a red smudge in the sky behind him and the trees ahead were showing black and silver rather than green in the strengthening light of the full moon when the wagon turned off the track into a small clearing and stopped. The old man climbed to the ground slowly while the boy jumped down and began unharnessing their horse. A few minutes later he tethered it under a tree and fetched blankets which he draped and fastened around its neck, back, and haunches to protect it from the night chill before shaking out some hay for it to eat. Obviously a considerate as well as a practical boy where horses were concerned, Declan thought, as the other began building a fire which the old man kindled with surprising speed. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Warmth and food was all he wanted, and Declan was telling himself again that there was no need for anyone to die, when suddenly he froze. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Voices. There were three, no four of them coming from the undergrowth midway between Declan's position and the tinkers' campfire. They were talking quietly, but his ears were good and he could hear every word they spoke. One voice sounded older, deep with authority and a hint of breathlessness that suggested that the speaker was large in girth. This speaker was making it plain that they, too, were waiting for the campfire to be fully alight so that the eyes of their victims would be too dazzled to see the attack out of the darkness until it was too late. Unlike Declan, the man was making it plain that he was greedy for loot rather than hungry for food because his orders were to kill the tinkers first and then plunder their possessions. The wagon and beast would fetch a good price, he said quietly, his voice beginning to wheeze with excitement, because only the rich or highborn could afford horses. From the talk they had heard in surrounding villages and farms, it seemed that these two tinkers were strange and secretive people who did not really need to ply their trade. It was said that their wagon might even be carrying a small hoard of silver or gold. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Some people had the minds of credulous children, Declan thought angrily, and these four had the minds of cruel, greedy, and uncaring children. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â But his anger, he told himself truthfully, was due more to disappointment and the fear of unassuaged hunger than any strong feeling of sympathy for the tinkers. He did not want to have to share the available food with four other robbers, always supposing that they, with their greater strength in numbers, would agree to a sharing and not try to kill him outright for his impertinence and presumption in asking for a share. If he was to go on living through this night and perhaps the day or days that would follow with cold and hunger, Declan could see only one solution to his problem. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He left them talking quietly about all the wonderful, exciting, and depraved things they could do with the tinkers' hoard, but not quietly enough for them to be able to hear the sound of his light, swift footfalls as he turned and ran under the trees in a wide semicircle that would bring him out at the other side of the tinkers' camp. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan's approach to the two people at the cooking fire was hidden by the wagon, but he allowed his feet to fall heavily because his intention was to warn the tinkers of his approach rather than frighten and harm them. But by the time he appeared, the thin youth had heard him coming and had run back to the vehicle where he was trying to pull a sword from beneath the driving bench. The weapon was longer than the gladius at his waist, heavy, and with its bronze edges blunted so that it was more of a club than a sword. Declan shook his head and strode quickly to the cloaked figure beside the fire. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Old man," he said quickly, pointing across the fire toward the darkness under the trees, "listen carefully and do as I say. There is a band of four robbers out there who are going to attack you and the boy within the next few moments. Their purpose is to slay and rob you. Both of you must go to the wagon, place your backs against the lowest and most strongly built part so that they will not be able to take you from the rear while I guard against a frontal or flanking attack ... What are you doing, boy?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The youth was running at him, his too-heavy sword upraised to strike. Declan stepped back quickly to avoid the wild, unbalanced swing while drawing the axe from its shoulder harness, and at the next swing he knocked the tip of the boy's sword to the ground. He used the flat of the axeblade so as not to nick the iron cutting edges because those he tried to keep as finely honed as a shaving knife. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "If you want to fight," he said in a tone that mixed exasperation and admiration at the other's bravery, "you should try to defend your ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He had been about to say father or grandfather, but hesitated. At close quarters he could see that the old man's face was completely hairless and totally without expression. Not only was his skull as shining and featureless as an ocean-washed stone, there was not the slightest trace of hair around his mouth and chin or even where his lashes and eyebrows should have been. This, Declan thought, was a person who had suffered some strange malady or, perhaps, he had travelled from a far country where everyone looked like that. When compared with the thick, black hair and delicate and animated features of the boy, it was obvious that there was no family relationship. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... your master," he corrected himself, and went on, "Stand before him, guard him from attack and don't try to swing that pig-sticker around your head or try to slash with it. It's blunt, too heavy for you and it would swing you off balance and leave you open to a counterattack. The only advantage it has is its length. You are young and fast on your feet, so duck under your enemy's slash then step forward and stab with it, straight-armed ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Like this?" said the boy, jabbing the point of the blade viciously at his chest. Surprised at the other's strength, Declan danced backward out of range. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Behave yourself, boy!" he said angrily. "Do you want me to take the flat of my hand to your skinny rump? 1 am not your enemy." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "So you pretend," said the boy, showing no sign of fear as he moved back, his sword still raised. "We are not gullible fools and we don't believe your generous offer of help. You wear the rags of a beggar but carry a large, bright long-axe. You, too, are a robber like the others, if there are any others." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ignoring him, Declan turned to the old man and said, "Control this cheeky young cub's tongue, and both of you move back to the wagon, now, and do as I say. I've no time to waste on stupid arguing because ..." He heard the quiet thump and swishing of feet in the undergrowth and, looking away from the fire to avoid losing his night vision, he swung around to face the sound before ending, "... they are here!" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â There were four of them as he had guessed, advancing at a confident, unhurried run in close line abreast, their cloaks thrown back to free their arms for fighting. Two of them carried short swords and knives while another, who was armed with only a pikestaff, broke away without a word being spoken, to begin running in the direction of the wagon and the old man and boy. The fourth man, who was a little in front of the others and plainly their leader, was swinging an axe that was in length and weight the equal of Declan's own. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The other's belly, as he had suspected it would be from hearing the man's wheezing voice earlier, was larger than his chest but not by much, and the arms that bulged out of the short-sleeved tunic looked as if they had been grown on a tree. The hair and beard showed streaks of reddish-white in the firelight which also glittered on teeth that were bared in a wide snarl of anticipation. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The big man was the principal danger and, if the other two made a simultaneous flanking attack, he would be unbeatable and Declan would not have to worry about feeling cold or hungry or anything else for much longer. This would have to be a short fight, he decided, because he would certainly lose a long one and it was plain that they were confident of being able to kill him. Somehow he had to try to make them overconfident so that they would not worry about attacking him one at a time so that he would be able to spring his surprise. He lowered his weapon and made a low, frightened, pleading sound, the cry of an arrant coward who has no wish to do battle, then he turned and ran around the fire and toward the trees. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â But not nearly as fast as he was able. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â One of the his attackers stopped and gave a low, scornful laugh while the second one's run slowed to a walk. It was plain that they did not wish to spoil their leader's fun by sharing in the kill. Declan ran slowly and waited until the sound of the big man's pounding feet and his loud, labored breathing were close behind him, then he sprang his surprise. Instead of running faster he checked his pace and turned, swinging his axe transversely at chest level. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The other was a large man but slow he was not His axe was already raised for a vertical blow that would have split his victim's head in two, but Declan was able to alter the direction of his own attack so as to knock the other's swinging blade down and away from his body while raising his own weapon to aim another blow. But Declan did not check his swing to defend himself as the other would have expected. Instead he pivoted on both feet, increased the speed of his swing, rotated full circle and, ignoring the blade coming down at him, jumped forward. He heard the thick leather of the other's tunic and underlying clothing rip apart and felt a slower pull against his wrists as a protruding tip of his axe met the stronger and softer resistance of flesh before pulling free. Frantically he dodged aside to avoid the other's two-handed vertical swing as the big man gave a high-pitched grunt. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The other's axeblade thudded harmlessly into the ground beside Declan, then he took one hand away from the handle to press it tightly against his middle. He backed away then, dragging the axe along the ground while blood that looked black in the firelight trickled between his fingers. Plainly the big man was no longer a threat, but the fight was not yet over. The heat of the nearby fire was warming his body, but hunger and his recent exertions were making him so weak that the axe felt like a heavy wooden log in his hands. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The man who had held back earlier to allow his leader to slay Declan was running at him from one side while the other one was rounding the fire to attack from the opposite flank. The wagon and tinkers were out of sight behind him and he couldn't risk looking back to see what the pikeman was doing to them. He ran at the nearest of the two attackers swinging the axe around his head but, he realized at once, not to good effect. The other was able to fend off the blow with his shorter weapon, duck forward and under and slash at his lower body with the knife that he also carried. Frantically, Declan bent forward at the waist so that the blade tore a long rent in his already-torn garments but not in him. He jumped back and swung around to see what the other attacker was doing. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â At first it seemed that the man was standing still at about ten paces distant and doing nothing at all. Then he saw that the other had dropped his short sword to the ground and was holding, not a knife but a vicious looking gae bolga, a throwing weapon with forward-angled spikes along both sides of its short blade, behind and below his waist, and with his arm stretched back to hurl it at Declan. Without a stout shield to deflect the thrown blade, there was only one defense possible and that was another attack. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He changed quickly to a one-handed grip on the thick shaft of his axe and with a great effort raised the blade to the level of the other's face. He began to run toward the man sideways so as to present the thinnest possible target against the dark background of the trees but, he felt sure, awkwardly and far too slowly. His hope, a truly desperate one, was that the sharp, advancing point of his axehead would worry the other enough to put him off his aim. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â But it was something else that did that. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The clearing and surrounding trees were lit suddenly as if by a flash of lightning that had come to ground close behind him. So bright was the light that for a moment the flames of the cooking fire were bleached out to show only the gray of charring logs. He was so surprised that he scarcely felt the points of the thrown gae bolga as they ripped across his cheek. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â His two attackers backed away, blinking, their faces contorted by fear, and were turning and running for the trees when a sharp cry from behind him made Declan swing around. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man was holding something in his hands that shone brightly, although the light seemed to be fading from white to yellow as he watched. Beside him the boy was holding his sword at full extension as he had been instructed and the pikeman, his weapon already dropping to the ground, was backing away, clutching at his shoulder and whimpering with pain. The robber turned quickly and, still dazzled by the old man's strange light, he too stumbled toward the shelter of the trees. The battle, it seemed, was over and won. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan replaced his axe in its harness and tried to keep from staggering with weakness as he strode back to the wagon. Relief made his voice harsher than he had intended. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Pleased I am to see that you fared well, old man," he said. "But you, boy, you should have aimed and stuck that pikeman in the chest or belly. He wanted to take your life, and you gave him another chance to do it someday ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I do not take life," the boy interrupted, his voice almost strident with anger. "I am a healer." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Even a stupid apprentice healer," said Declan scornfully, "must continue to live if he hopes to practice the high art." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Enough," the boy replied, glaring up at him. "Your cheek is opened, the blood is flowing and the edges of the wound will need to be pulled together. I promise you, our ragged and uncouth guardian, that the work will be neater and you will feel less pain if you curb your unmannerly tongue." CHAPTER TWO Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man held up a hand for silence with a gesture that was graceful and almost fluid, then looked at Declan with large, soft eyes that were set in a face that bore no lines or wrinkles either of age or character. In a gentle voice that was low and clear like a woman's, he spoke for the first time. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "We owe you a great debt, young man," he said. "How may we repay it?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan had expected to be stealing from the two of them rather than being offered a reward. He shivered and a sudden yawn stretched his jaw and caused more blood to trickle down his cheek. "You may pay me with warmth, and rest, and food." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man pointed to the fire. "Warm yourself," he said, "Light and neat are needed to mend your face, and to cook our food. In a short time you may eat your fill and later, before you leave us, as much more as you wish to carry." - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Thank you ," he replied, grateful that he did not have to steal. "My name is Declan." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "And I am Ma'el," said the old man. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'There is no need," said the boy, "for one such as you to know my name." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "May-ell?" said Declan. He looked at the stiff, angry face of the boy for a moment, then went on, "A name can be a proud or a shameful thing. If you do not give it I will not know which." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Ma'el," the old man corrected him gently, and quickly before the boy could respond he went on, "and this one calls himself Sean. My hand light is nigh to expiring and I must wait for it to renew its life. Let us move to the fire." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â A few minutes later Declan was seated crosslegged and as close to the light and heat of the fire as he could bear while the boy busied himself with boiling a pan of water in which lay strips of torn cloth, a small, bone needle, and what looked like a length of fine catgut already threaded onto it. An apprentice healer he might be, Declan thought, but the boy had been taught the habits of cleanliness. Ma'el brought two sharpened, divided branches from the wagon which he pushed into the ground on opposite sides of the fire, and within a few minutes there was a large wood fowl, already plucked and gutted, rotating on a spit between them. The smell of the roasting bird was causing his stomach to remind him noisily that it was empty. His mouth was still watering when the boy tipped the boiling water from the pan onto the ground to allow the needle and dressing to cool, then held the top of Declan's head and chin between his small hands to look closely at the torn cheek. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'The cuts have bled themselves clean," said the boy in a strangely mature and self-assured voice, glancing across briefly at Ma'el. "No poultices or ointments will be needed to draw dirt or poisons from the wound and slow the healing. Seven, maybe eight stitches will suffice ... You, hold still!" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan held his head still, teeth pressed tightly together and neck muscles tensed against the expected pain. But it was not as bad as he had expected. Although Sean was young and could not therefore be a fully tutored apprentice healer, the boy's hands were deft and sure and even gentle in their touch. Declan felt scarcely any pain at all and he began to relax. The work ended with a soft, sharp-smelling pad which, the boy said, contained herbs that would speed the healing, being applied to cover the closed wounds. A long strip of clean cloth was wound vertically around his head and chin to hold the covering firmly in position. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For the first time he was beginning to feel grateful and well-disposed towards young Sean, but the feeling lasted only until the boy spoke. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You may eat now," Sean said, putting aside his materials. "Do not wolf the food or you will loosen the dressings and open the wound again. I'm presuming that an unmannerly ruffian like you is capable of eating in small mouthfuls?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Guard your own mouth, boy," said Declan sharply, "or I'll loosen a few of its teeth." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Be at peace," said Ma'el, "and use your mouths for eating." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man's tone was chiding, gentle, and soft but, Declan thought with a small shiver, it also carried within it the quality of quiet confidence and authority found only in a commander of men. With persons such as this the habit of command, and of obedience to those commands, was instinctive. Declan stopped speaking. So, apart from the few words needed during the carving and separation of the wood fowl, did the boy. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Declan," said Ma'el, breaking a long silence, "we shall return to my wagon now. Sean takes his rest under the awning over the driving bench, which is wide and softly padded. He will bring you blankets so that you may sleep by the warmth of the dying fireâ??" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I shall not sleep," Declan broke in. 'There is little danger of the robbers coming back this night. Sean wounded one and I cut another, very deeply 1 think, and they did not have the look of nor did they act like the bravest of men. The small chance of them returning troubles me not, and I feel sure that both of you can sleep in safety." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You have a listening look, Declan," said Ma'el. "Is there something else that is troubling you?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He nodded, and began, "There is a sound among the trees ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I hear it, too," Sean broke in. "It's like the low, uneven whining of a wounded animal. Perhaps it is the prey of a wolf or fox who escaped its attacker, but perhaps not with its life." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It is not an animal," said Declan. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He climbed to his feet, pleased that the fire's warmth had taken the stiffness out of his limbs, and checked the free movement of the shortsword in its scabbard. He stepped around the fire and strode toward the trees, saying over his shoulder, "Stay here. I will look to it." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â At once he heard the light sound of Sean's footsteps behind him. He turned to speak sharply to the boy only to find that Ma'el was following him as well. One word from me, he thought irritably, and they do as they like. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He followed the sound until they came to the base of a tall tree whose gnarled branches had been left blackened and leafless by a lightning strike so that bright moonlight shone down on the white face and figure of the leader of the robbers whose back was to the thick trunk. There was no sight or sound of his men who, as Declan had guessed they would, had deserted him. Thick, drying blood covered the sides of the other's mouth and darkened the gray streaks that had been in his beard, and the ground under and around him was also saturated by a dark and widening stain. His axe lay in the grass several paces away and both of his hands and forearms were pressed tightly against his middle. Declan stepped closer. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The man must have heard him because the moaning ceased. He opened his eyes, looked up at Declan and started to speak but coughed blood instead. A moment passed and he tried again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Please," he said. "End it." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Before Declan could reply, Sean moved forward, quickly went down on one knee beside the man, and said gently, "Ease your mind, I am a healer." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The boy lifted the man's arms and hands clear of his belly and placed them at his sides, then peeled back the blood-soaked clothing to bare the chest and stomach. It was a long, deep, transverse wound that gaped open to reveal the man's entrails, many of which had been severed and were sliding wetly onto the ground. There was a strong smell of excrement. Declan heard the boy's sharp intake of breath before he looked up at him and said angrily, "You made a bloody mess of this one." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan wanted to tell him that the man had tried to make a bloody mess of him, and had nearly succeeded, but he held his tongue because he knew that this was not the time for logical argument. Sean had turned away to look at Ma'el. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You are a great wizard, master," he said in a pleading voice. "I have seen you work wonders, near miracles with your magic and charms. Can you ...?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sean's words trailed away into silence because Ma'el was shaking his head. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Both of you withdraw to the wagon," Declan said firmly. "This will not be a pleasant sight for the eyes of the young or the old." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â While their footfalls faded with distance he stared down at the leader of the robbers, a cruel and violent man laid low. His intention had been to slay the tinkers and Declan did not like him for that, but neither did he hate him enough to let the man suffer for hours or days of continuing agony from such a terrible belly wound that he could have no hope of surviving. Declan's eyes moved upward to the other's face as he grasped the hilt of his gladius in both hands with the point hovering above the man's body. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Are you certain in your mind about this?" he said. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The man nodded slowly. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Are there last words you would speak?" said Declan quietly. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The man opened his mouth, coughed blood again for a moment then shook his head. Declan raised his sword high and drove the sharp, broad point into the middle of the other's bared chest. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He caught up with the other two just before they reached the wagon. Ma'el's face was impassive as usual, Sean's showed anger, and neither of them spoke to him. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "If you carry a pick and shovel," said Declan, pointing at the wagon. "I would borrow them." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man climbed to the driving seat, ducked below the awning, and as he moved between the heavy curtain of animal skins behind it, a light much brighter than that of the moon shone briefly from inside the wagon. A moment later he emerged with the implements Declan had requested and with them two unequal lengths of yellow, planed wood. He gave Declan the pick and shovel, but before passing down the pieces of wood he held the shorter one transversely across the longer, closed his large, soft eyes for a moment and then handed them to him joined together as one single, crossed shape. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "How did you do that, master?" said Sean, excitedly asking the question that Declan was about to ask. "My family have always followed the Druidic teachings, but I've heard tell of that symbol. They say that it is reverenced and used on their grave markers by a religious sect that is gaining support in the Mediterranean nations and there are a few even in Hibernia. They call themselves the Followers of the Christus. Are you also a ...?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I am not..." Ma'el began gently. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Nor I," Declan broke in, shaking the joined wood. "What means this?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "They are the followers of a Jewish lawgiver and prophet," Sean replied in the voice of one who is anxious to impress others with his knowledge. "He was gentle and taught the ways of meekness and love and respect between all men." He pointed to the wooden cross in Declan's hand. "For teaching that dreadful heresy, three centuries ago the Romans nailed him to a tree." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... but I was interested in his teachings," Ma'el went on as if the others had not spoken, "because among other things he taught that there was a life after this one. I regretted his shameful and unjust death and that I was prevented from meeting and talking with him, but..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Do you think," said Declan in a disbelieving voice as he gestured with the cross toward the trees, "that the leader of the robbers was one of these followers? Considering his violent and bloody plans for you, surely that is most unlikely?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... the Christus preached of the existence of a supreme being who knew all things because he himself had made all things," Ma'el continued gently, "and who was all-powerful and, withal, was understanding and compassionate with all of his creatures. My feeling is that the dead robber may have need of such a benign and forgiving being." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Without another word Declan walked slowly toward the trees, the pick and shovel handles gripped in one hand and the wooden cross in the other. He was no longer feeling cold but twice he gave a small shiver of wonder. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The first time was when he took a very close look at the grave marker. The join between the vertical and horizontal pieces was smooth and without a hairline crack showing, and it was work of a degree of excellence that would make a master carpenter proud. But Ma'el had used no tools, instead he had merely closed his eyes and pressed the two pieces of wood together. Many times Declan had watched so-called wizards and magicians practicing their craft at country markets or for the amusement of the highborn, where the onlookers had gasped or shouted with wonder at their tricks and tossed coins or bought the magic potions that were on sale afterward. But this simple joining of wood was a quieter and much more wondrous form of magic because he was holding it in his own hands and there was no trickery involved. - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The second shiver was when he remembered the old man's words about the Christus who had died over three centuries ago. Ma'el had not said that the holy man had died before he was born or when he was too young to travel to meet him. Instead he had said that he regretted that something had prevented them from meeting and talking together as Ma'el had wanted. Surely that meant that old man and the Christus had been alive at the same time. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Just how old, Declan wondered, was this old man supposed to be? Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When the work of burying the robber leader was done, he returned to the others to find that all was silent Ma'el was inside the wagon and Sean was stretched along the driving bench and breathing evenly underneath his blankets. Declan laid down the pick and shovel silently and moved back to the dying fire. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For a long time he sat crosslegged with Ma'el's blankets draped around his shoulders, warm and tired and comfortable but with his mind too busy for any thought of sleep. It was not the thought of the robbers coming back that disturbed his mind; they were a craven bunch who would prefer to rob less dangerous victims, but thoughts about the strange people he had met and saved: the old, old magician of power, and his young apprentice healer and servant who seemed to know many more things than a boy of his age should be able to comprehend. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan did not know whether he stopped drinking about them before or after he fell asleep. But suddenly he was looking at the gray and white ashes of the dead fire, the sun was rising in a cloudless sky above the trees in whose branches birds were singing, and an ungentle foot was kicking him in the back. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "For someone who was supposed to remain wakeful all night," said Sean, looking down at him with an expression of disfavor, "you make the most horrendous sounds while you are not sleeping." CHAPTER THREE Excerpt from Ma'el Report. Day 112,538 ... Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It had gone much better than I thought it would, and my feeling of pleasure is only slightly diluted by the knowledge that my recent choice of inaction, apart from the use of a nonviolent hand light which helped save my servant's life and that of the new one if he chooses to join me. But it is becoming increasingly difficult, even for the most respected scientist member of the Synod, to remain unfeeling where the subjects of his report are concerned. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Until my assignment to this planet I could not have believed that a species with so many handicaps could exist, much less continue to survive and develop a rudimentary technology as well as a wide range of variant social systems. They have no ability to view their own future, either as individuals or racial groups, unlike the gifted among the Taelon who can see hours or days or, in flashes, even years ahead if they themselves should be personally involved in the events to come. The people of Earth have knowledge only of the past and present while the future remains a dark curtain through which they stumble blindly from second to second, although a few of the more intelligent specimens are able to use the experience and information gathered from their past to predict, very inaccurately, their future. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "By Taelon standards they are pitifully underdeveloped both socially and scientifically, and a scientist of my standing must not become emotionally involved with specimens under examination. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I allowed that to happen during the second century of my visit, and many specimens died needlessly and the continued survival of the whole species had been placed at risk until my peripheral experiment with mind-altering substances was corrected. I do not want to repeat such mistakes. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "But today's decision is a minor one, merely whether or not I should reveal my advanced technology behind my chart, and perhaps risk frightening both of them into flight, or to hide it from them by telling only a small part of the truth. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Moral cowardice dictates that I choose the latter course ..." - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â As soon as Declan climbed to his feet he saw that another fire had been kindled several paces away, probably at Ma'el's insistence so that Sean's preparations for the morning meal would not interrupt his rest. A kindly and considerate old man, he thought as he sat down across from the two of them, and one he had decided that he would not willingly offend in either word or deed. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el pointed at a bowl and platters that were close to Declan's hand and then at the pot of gruel that was bubbling over the fire. In his gentle voice he asked, "You are hungry?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Always," said Declan, smiling. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He ladled hot gruel into his bowl and spooned it carefully into his mouth, feeling its heat warming his body right down to his toes. The platter contained a few pieces of heavy, pleasantly spiced bread which, despite their small size, seemed to fill him to such repletion that his belly had scarcely room for the large, yellow apple with the blush of pink on it that followed. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â No apple should look and taste so fresh and crisp and juicy this late in the year, he knew, when most of the autumn fruit in store was expected to be either drying up or rotten, yet this one tasted as if it had been picked that morning. He finished it slowly and without speaking a word, thinking this was another small but very real piece of magic to add to the old man's strange hand light and his seamless wooden cross. Finally he gave a contented sigh and looked up at Ma'el. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "My thanks for your hospitality," he said. "Should I take my leave of you now?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Yes," said Sean firmly. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el ignored the boy and his large, soft eyes rested on Declan for a moment, then he said, "Without the food I promised you, do you wish to leave us now?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was Declan's turn to be silent as he remembered his original plan to rob this old man and boy of their food and possessions, and the strange change of mind that had caused him to defend them instead, and the even stranger things that had happened as a result of his doing that. He shook his head violently, but it was partly in an effort to still this confusion and shake some sense into his mind. Ma'el waited silently for him to speak. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I would be grateful for the food you promised," he replied finally, "but it is not of great importance. I think it is knowledge that I now seek. Who are you, Ma'el? What are you?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Declan," said Ma'el gently, "if I was to give you the knowledge you seek, which I may never do, you would first have to earn my trust over many years as my servant and protector ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No!" Sean broke in sharply. In a quieter voice the boy went on, "You already have a protector in me. I lack the height and thick-muscled arms and the bloody long-axe of this one, but I can advise you about the country and its often coarse and ill-tempered people and, with the help of your magic and my skills, keep you safe. You have no need of another. This one is of a kind with the people against whom you promised me protection. I have the feeling that he, too, is a robber, but one who changed his mind because he thought there would be more profit in defending than in attacking us. But he could change his mind again, and kill us at a time of his own choosing. Give him the promised food and send him hence!" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan remained silent. It would do him no good to make a denial when the others would disbelieve every word he would say, especially when the accusation was partly true. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Peace, child," said Ma'el quietly. "Your recent past has made you untrusting of others, and with good reason. But allow me to judge the worth of this stranger as, you will remember, I judged you when first we met. As well as a healer and trusted advisor like yourself, I have need of a man of stature and formidable aspect who has proficiency in the warlike arts and who will discourage, hopefully before violence occurs, the cruder-natured people we may chance to meet. There have been many such as Declan who served me in my past and there may be more in my future. Do you follow my reasoning, young Sean?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The boy glared at Declan, but remained mute. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "As my protector," Ma'el went on, turning back to Declan, "there would be times when you would be called on to face many strange and unusual dangers, among people in even stranger places far across the seas. Have you ever traveled beyond this land and, if you have not, would you prefer not to do so?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He could have asked if Declan was afraid to do so, but had used the word "prefer" instead. This was a considerate man who did not want to shame him in front of the boy into making a hasty, braggart's reply that he might later regret. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I have sailed thrice to the western isles of Scotia," he replied, "once to the island kingdom of Man and once again to a coastal fishing village in Gaul. High wind and the heaving waters make me sick for a time, but I am not afraid of the sea. I swim strongly." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el dipped his head. "Then I will offer you employment in my service." he said. "But please think long and well before you accept it." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan thought long and well while ignoring the restive movements and disapproving looks of Sean. He had no fear of unknown dangers in strange and far-off lands although, until he met them face-to-face, he could not say in truth whether or not he would feel afraid of them. He had heard many tales about strange and terrible beasts, mostly from seafarers whose minds had been addled by too much ale at the time, and had discounted them as tales of pure embroidery. He had no ties to hold him to Hibernia because his family had long since disowned him, but that was a painful part of his life that he did not like to think about for too long. Finally he looked straight at Ma'el and nodded. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I accept," he said. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "But your face and manner tell me that you have questions," the old man said. "What are they?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan nodded again and said, "Firstly, what reward can I expect for my long service to you ...?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The boy made a loud, disgusted sound but did not speak. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... And you said that Sean and myself are not your first servants," he went on, ignoring the interruption. "My expectation is that this will be interesting, exciting but not particularly safe employment. What happened to your other servants?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The majority of them died in my service," Ma'el replied without hesitation. "Others accepted their reward in gold or other riches and some of them also died as a result of various excesses and lack of care about their personal safety. There were others more fortunate. One in particular, a giant of a man called Severus, was of low education but great good sense, wanted only enough to buy a farm in Tuscany where he later found happiness and died peacefully of old age among his large family and friends. Have you another question for me?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan thought for a moment, then said, "No." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â There was another silence while the boy Sean continued to regard him with a look of disfavor and the old man gazed into his eyes with no expression at all. It felt as if Ma'el was looking into his very mind. It was not a pleasant feeling and one that Declan wished to end as quickly as possible. Deliberately, he looked aside at the boy and spoke again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Now that we are both in your service," he said, "what dire and dangerous commissions would you have us do for you, and what will be the order of their doing?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The first one is not onerous," said Ma'el, his smooth, expressionless features looking as if they might be close to a smile. "You will sit in the sunshine of this pleasant morning and talk with me while we make and agree upon our future plans. Come closer and observe." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â From a recess within his cloak Ma'el produced a thick square of material, no more than the size of the palm of his hand, that had the dull grey sheen of metal. He placed it on the ground beside him before tapping it sharply with his index finger. As they gathered around it the card opened up into four squares joined at their edges then continued to unfold it until it was an arm's length in width and depth. In a moment it lay flat and stiff on the ground as a picture without any marks of folding or wrinkling on it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I've never seen you do that spell before!" Sean burst out, pointing excitedly at the outlines of the picture it showed. "It is a chart, a map of Hibernia with the Isle of Man in the Celtic Sea and the coasts of Scotia, Cymri, and Gaul showing. But it is not well-drawn. The penmanship of the artist is careless, smeared, and lacking in detail. The outlines of the mountains and loughs are there, but the names of the cities and settlements have not been inked in. Their positions are represented only by small, gray smudges. A careless and untidy mapmaker did this." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Perhaps it was the work of another apprentice," said Declan, lending weight to the last word while deliberately not looking at the boy. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el raised an admonishing finger at him. "Make your tongue behave itself, Declan, and both of you cease this constant skirmishing with words," he said, then to Sean, "You might consider instead that it is not a map but a picture, a painting in dull colors of a scene which the artist imagines is being viewed from a great height. The outlines are true, but are they clear enough for you to chart a course by them?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "They are," Sean replied, flashing an angry look at Declan and immediately changing tack so that he was complimenting rather than criticizing the artist. Pointing, he went on, "Here, centered in the northern Kingdom of Dalriada, is plainly the outline of Lough Neagh. To the south and west is a smudge showing the position of Eman Macha and on the coast to the east is the Lough of BealFeirste, which our thick-tongued Saxon cousins call Armagh and Belfast. Further down the east coast are these very large smudges which appear blue rather than gray. They must be the heather-clad slopes of the great mountains in the Kingdom of Mourne ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan moved closer to the map and bent over it for a better view. He was surprised by the boy's breadth of knowledge which seemed to be greater than his own, even though he himself knew just enough to be sure that the other's information was accurate. He could have admired and even respected a boy who possessed such wide knowledge, if the other had not been so self-assured and arrogant in his display of it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... Further down the east coast," Sean went on, ignoring the movement, "you can see the promontory of Howth, and below it the smudge that is the city of Baele Atha Cliath and its harbor, the Black Pool Dubh Linn. The next smudge of importance is Cork on the south coast, inland of the harbor of Cobh in the Kingdom of Munster ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Do you know," Declan broke in quietly, "where we are now?" - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sean glared at him for a moment, then tapped a finger on the map. "Plainly our new protector grows impatient with the acquisition of knowledge that has naught to do with killing and the arts of war," he said. Deliberately omitting place names, he added, "We are here." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan looked at Ma'el. "And from here, where do we go?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man pointed to the lower edge of the chart. "We will travel to Gaul," he replied quietly, "and thence to Rome ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Rome!" Sean broke in, his voice going high and womanish with excitement. 'The center of the world, at least of its imperial power and the commerce from countless lands. But such a journey will be fraught with many dangers, not just those offered by the robbers and Roman soldiery we will meet on the way, but from the natural obstacles of wide rivers and the high mountains that protect the Eternal City's northern approaches. Master, have you considered well the hazards of this journey?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "We two are with you," said Declan quickly, looking at Sean and feeling excitement and wonder, but worst of all, if the boy's warning should be heeded by the old man, was the possibility of the greatest adventure of his life being denied him. He went on, 'To show you that I do not speak idle promises, may I say that I myself have dreamed of climbing the icy heights of the mountains of Helvetica, and of walking the streets amid the palaces and amphitheaters of Imperial Rome itself and of..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man, Declan had noticed long since, possessed the ability of gently ignoring interruptions rather than losing his temper and chiding the interrupters. He continued as though neither of them had spoken. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... From Rome," said Ma'el quietly, "we travel onward to Far Cathay." CHAPTER FOUR Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The boy's mouth opened in astonishment but no words came out of it, and for several moments Declan's tongue and mind were in the same state of paralysis. Not wishing to give Sean the impression that their ultimate destination had in any way discomfited him, Declan cleared his throat noisily, looked at Ma'el and spoke as though the news was of no particular consequence. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'The first stage of the journey," he said quietly, "will be to reach Gaul. There are short and dangerous paths we can take to that destination, and other ways that are longer, less risky and, as well as traveling through the familiar lands of Hibernia itself, they will require shorter and less-dangerous sea voyages. Is the time taken for this journey an important consideration?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el looked at him steadily for a moment, then made a gesture that could have signified yes or no. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Even in Hibernia," Declan went on, "if you are a stranger journeying through unfamiliar territory, that alone could involve us in lengthy negotiations and the levying of taxes by the tuaths we encounter on the way. These will be small clan or family kingdoms for the most part, comprising a few towns and a score or two of fortified farms, but the smaller they are, the greedier they will be to exact payment for freedom of passage. If you agree to these demands, and especially if you haggle over the payment to show that you are not overly rich, we should be allowed to pass in safety. Or you might prefer to hire and provision a force of local warriors, if they appear trustworthy, who will escort you on foot for as long as you can pay them." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sean was staring at his sword and axe. He said softly, "Much about you is becoming clearer." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan ignored the gibe and went on, "If we go north through the mountain Kingdom of Mourne, where a few angry men can halt an army much less a tinker's wagon, and into the Kingdom of Dalriada we could arrange the short sea passage to Scotia, where the people are wild but well-disposed toward us. The navy of Dalriada is respected by the Norsemen and feared by all others including the ungainly vessels of Rome. They are captained and manned by dark-featured, dour, but on the whole honest men of Ulster who drive hard bargains and honor them. From Scotia we would have to travel down the length of Roman Britain, through mountains, forests, and cities that are not known to me, and which may be governed by imperial representatives more greedy and rapacious than the worst of robbers, until we reach the south coast at the point nearest to Gaul where we can arrange for a second, shorter, and more risky sea crossing. The risks lie in us not knowing anything about the ships or seafarers who will be carrying us." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â As Declan paused for a moment to draw breath, Sean said softly, "And you acted as though I was being long-winded." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For a moment the old man looked steadily at the boy, who averted his eyes, then he said, "Declan, please continue." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "There is the short and safer land journey to Dubh Linn," he went on, "and then across the Celtic Sea to the coasts of Gwynedd or Ceredigion. The journey through mountainous Cymri and the southern reaches of Britain would be much shorter than travelling north to Dalriada, across to Scotia, and then down to the South Britain coast." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Much shorter," said the boy, his eyes on the map, "if we were hungering for suicides' graves." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan held his temper with an effort. "1 am advising on possible journeys," he said, looking at Ma'el, "not advocating one that we should take." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el nodded slowly. "Are there other possibilities?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Only two," Declan replied, tracing a new path with his forefinger. "The first involves a short and fairly safe land journey followed by one by sea that is long and fraught with many dangers that are due to the elements rather than the designs of greedy men. It would involve traveling west to Drumshambo and northwest to Callooney and on to the harbor at Sligo in the Kingdom of Connaught, and there taking one of the Dalriada ships to our destination ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "We have come from there," the boy interrupted. "Ma'el was visiting the tomb marker of the Warrior Queen Maeve on Knocknarea, and the burial places of the Kings on the Hill above the Strand. He says that he gains much power from that legendary place." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It would be unwise," Declan continued quickly before the boy could speak further, "to sail directly southward along the west coast, which is broken and rocky and has seen the death of many ships in the sudden winter gales that blow up. Instead we could go north and then eastward past the shores of Tirconnel and the peninsula of Innishowen, then south into the more sheltered Celtic Sea passing, or if the need arose, calling at BaelFeirste, the island Kingdom of Man, or Dubh Linn, for supplies before continuing southward to the shores of Gaul." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You are ragged, uncouth, and unshaven," Sean broke in, suspicion in his voice. "But for a robber or a beggar or whatever you are, your knowledge of these matters worries me." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el held up a hand and, turning his eyes on the boy, he said, "Please." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... But if we were to bide our time," Declan went on, "and seek the counsel of local persons of substance, we might find a trustworthy captain who would have the knowledge to advise us further regarding the conditions we would encounter in Gaulâ??" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No!" the boy broke in again. To the old man he said, "Don't listen to, to this witless amadan. His brains must have been addled by an old head wound or his mind destroyed by drunkenness for him to suggest such a dangerous course ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "As I have already stated plainly," said Declan loudly, beginning to lose control of his anger, "these are suggestions only and not recommendations. Shall I go on?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Tracing a new path with his forefinger and without waiting for the old man's reply, he continued in a quieter voice, "In the second possibility, the initial part of the journey would be safe, or as safe as it is possible to be in these disorderly times, but the second would be fraught with many dangers from both hostile elements and treacherous men. We would travel to Cashel, where sits the King of Leinster, skirting the Comeragh and Monavullagh Mountains, into the Kingdom of Munster and thence to the city of Cork and its harbor, Cobh. It is a large seaport that has commerce with many nations. There we might find a ship that would convey us on a longer sea journey to Gaul. I have no knowledge of the seaports and townships of Roman Gaul, but..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Deliberately he did not complete the sentence. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man lowered his head to stare at the map for a long time, but it seemed to Declan that he was looking far beyond the shapes it displayed to places and times that he saw in his mind alone. Sean watched him closely, not speaking and seeming scarcely to breathe. Finally Ma'el looked up. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I agree," he said gently, "that for this journey great care and patience must be exercised in the choice of a ship, and in the weighing of the characters of its captain and crew, and in taking all of the precautions that it is possible for us to foresee before the decision to embark is made. Protector Declan, I favor your last suggestion. We will travel to Cobh." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el rose slowly to his feet and returned to the wagon. Sean maintained an angry silence while he smothered the fire, replaced the cooking utensils, untethered the horse and harnessed it to the wagon. Several times Declan offered to help him with these tasks, but on each occasion he was either refused with discourteous words or ignored. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The sun had climbed high above the trees when they resumed their journey. Declan was seated on the wide driving bench beside the boy, all of whose attention was concentrated on guiding the wagon out of their clearing and onto the rutted forest track. Ma'el was inside the tented section, quiet and presumably resting. Declan decided that whether their journey together was to be long or short, he would rather that the boy would use civil words to him rather than continually nagging like an old shrew. He tried again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "All directions are dangerous and it was not my decision that we take this one," he said, nodding his head toward the rear of the wagon, "it was our master's." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sean did not reply. Declan summoned up patience and went on, "He has the manner of a kindly and considerate man, and I do not believe that he would willingly place a boy like you in danger. Before we reach Cork, I'm sure he would understand if you were unwilling to leave the land of your birth, perhaps forever, and asked to be released from his service." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The boy shook his head. "There is nothing left for me in this land except the darkest of memories," he said, then, in a quiet but very firm voice, "I shall not leave him because I owe him too much." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was Declan's turn to remain silent, for he had the feeling that Sean wanted to talk now and, with a little more patience on his part, the boy's answers would come without need of him asking the questions. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "When I was little more than a grown child ..." he began, and broke off to glare for a moment at him as if expecting a derisive comment before going on, "... when I was a youth of less than twelve summers, he found me alone, cold, hungry, hunted by the hired assassins of my murdered family and in danger of losing my own life. He helped me, showed me how to hide from them in plain sight, cared for me and, in time, he gradually banished my fears of the day and the worse ones of night that constantly plagued my dreams, first by speaking gentle words to me and then by encouraging me to practice and improve on the healing skills taught to me by my father. He did much else besides. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I will not leave him even if he should order me away." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Some of the reasons for Sean's unfriendliness and suspicion toward him had become plain, Declan thought, and he was even beginning to feel a certain admiration for the boy, especially for his loyalty toward the old man. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "If enemies are or were wanting you dead," Declan observed, "it is likely that Sean is not your true name." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The boy's lips pressed tightly together and Declan felt the old hostility return. He went on quickly, "I have no wish to know your family or clan name, lest in a moment's lack of thought I let it slip in the wrong company. But curiosity eats at my belly like a nest of worms, and there is one thing I would like to know if you are at liberty to divulge it. You say that the old man did much else for you. Did he, perchance, instruct you in the use of his spells and magical arts?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No," Sean replied, a shadow that might have been of disappointment passing briefly across his face. His manner began to thaw once more as he went on, "He always makes sure that I am warm and sheltered by day and night, and at times he spoke counseling words that were valuable beyond price ..." he gave a small, backward jerk of his head, "... but I have never been allowed to see inside his wagon. I doubt if any living soul other than himself will ever do so." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan smiled. "Then I, too, shall not ask to see his secret lair," he said, "so that I, too, will be spared the embarrassment of his refusal ... Damn it to hell, this accursed wagon likes me not!" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Their horse was pulling them forward without complaint at a steady walking pace, its hooves thumping quietly into the patches of grass and soft earth that made up the uneven track they were following. But they had come on a stretch that was so deeply rutted that their thick, solid wheels sank almost to the axles before being pulled free. Several times Declan had to grip the edge of the driving bench with both hands while pressing one foot tightly against the handle of his axe, which he had laid on the timber floor within easy reach in case of a sudden attack, to avoid the weapon and himself being thrown sideways to the ground. Sean, who was half-standing and swaying easily from side to side as if on the deck of a sea-tossed ship, was not discomfited. When the track became even it was the boy who spoke first. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Ma'el is a strange man," said Sean as if their conversation had not been interrupted, "very strange, subtle, and mysterious, but good. Declan, promise me that you won't lay plans against him." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "If he has you on his side," he replied, smiling, "1 wouldn't dare." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sean frowned, looking anxious and disappointed. Declan stopped smiling. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "For what my word is worth to you," he said seriously, "I swear that I will harm neither of you so long as I am in Ma'el's service. But I am vastly curious about him. How does such a mild-mannered person live and gain sustenance in this uncaring country? What protection other than ourselves does he have? Who are his patrons? What advantage does he provide for them?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I don't know," Sean replied. "At least, I don't know enough to speak with full knowledge and I prefer, therefore, to remain silent rather than indulge in conjecture. But enough about our master and myself, what of yourself? Are you tied to Hibernia by family, friends, or loved ones? Is Declan your true name?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It is one of my true names," he replied, and suddenly he felt himself wanting to speak to the boy as he had done to no other person in his memory, but caution put a brake on his tongue as he went on, "But it is the only name you will ever know. I will not speak the names of my family or clan because to learn those, if your curiosity was to persist and you sought further information about them, you would also learn of my shameful and at times unruly past" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When Sean's eyes were not on the horse or the track ahead, they were on him. Obviously the boy was waiting for more. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Unlike you." he went on, "my father is still alive. My mother died at my birthing, which may explain but not excuse my father's unalterable lack of affection for me, or for the hostility toward me of his second, and very comely wife and her children. In anger I disowned him with harsh words before he could disown me and ... But enough, I begin to whine like a whipped cur." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sean looked for a moment at his tattered cloak and disheveled aspect but did not speak, knowing that the further questions that were on the tip of his tongue would not be answered. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan climbed to his feet and stood on top of the driving bench, which he had done at regular intervals since they had set off that morning, to see if possible enemies were following or flanking or lying in wait ahead of them, but they seemed to have the sunlit winter countryside all to themselves. He resumed his seat and resolved to change the subject. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Before we reach Cashel," he said, "I will ask Ma'el for a few coins of silver or gold. There is something I would like to do there." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I have no doubt of it" said Sean angrily. A dark, disapproving cloud settled on his features. In the face of a look like that, Declan thought, it would be a waste of time and breath for him to try to explain further. They rode in silence for the remainder of the afternoon. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The sun was touching the treetops behind them before he spoke again. This time the subject was a safe one, Declan knew from observation, and one that was close to the boy's heart. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'That is a fine horse," he said, "very strong but no longer young. No danger threatens for as far as I can see. Don't you think it deserves a rest after pulling this heavy wagon for most of the day?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â They rode for several minutes in silence before Sean replied. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The wagon is only as heavy," he said, "as Ma'el allows it to be." CHAPTER FIVE Ma'el Report. Day 112,543 ... Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â This day I made tentative plans for the visit to Rome and amused my mind by deploying the sensors so that I could overhear and witness my two servants trying not to fight with each other ..." - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Cashel was a small, orderly, and usually busy town which, because it was winter and business was seasonably quiet, was hungry for any form of trade that happened to be passing by. Its buildings showed a few examples of pillared and decorated Roman stonework, but the majority of its places of business and dwellings were of native construction: rounded, wickerwork buildings reinforced with clay and with some of them additionally thatched against the elements. In spite of the earliness of the hour, from one of the larger houses came the sounds of drinking and loud conversations where the king's warriors were taking their off-duty ease. This, Declan knew, was another reason for the peacefulness of the town because it was a matter of honor that if any disorderliness was to occur, it would be they, rather than unruly passing strangers, who caused it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was midmorning when their wagon passed the great Rock of Cashel and the royal castle at its top and entered the town itself. The mud of the streets was still solid from the previous night's heavy frost as they stopped in the empty market square. They did not put out an awning and trading stall, so any chance passerby would know that the tinkers were not there to do business and continue to pass them by. Ma'el tossed Declan a purse that was small but not particularly light, then wrapped himself tightly in his cloak and sat on the driving bench while Sean, who had been fighting a senseless war of words with Declan since the second day of their journey, saw to the comfort of the horse. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Have you visited Cashel before now?" he said when the boy had finished his task. "Would you like to walk with me?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No, and no," Sean replied. "Ma'el has promised to give me instruction in the furtherance of my art among other things." He inclined his head toward the oxinking house they had passed and in a sour voice added, "I will know where you are when the time comes to help you find your way back to us." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan looked up at Ma'el, who gently shook his head, then he turned and showed his anger by striding away. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The building, which he had already noticed while on their way to the market square, was set back a few paces from the road, solidly built with walls which had been washed in lime to make them almost white. A large wooden awning with thatch on top ran the full width of the building. It gave deep shelter to the entrance which was flanked on both sides with low benches and round-headed wall spikes displaying sheepskins, bolts of homespun cloth, and leather harnesses shaped for man-carried weapons as well as the shoulders of beasts of burden. In a thicket-enclosed yard behind the house there was another, less well-kept building which comprised a stable, a tannery from which drifted the pungent smell of curing leather, and a lean-to washing house from whose partly curtained door smoke and steam were leaking out to cloud the winter air. It was an establishment, he decided, which could supply all of his present needs. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â As he entered, Declan tried to make his gait and manner neither furtive like a beggar nor threatening as one come to kill and rob, although he well knew that the fresh, healing, and uncovered scar on his cheek would not be a reassuring sight to those inside. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â There was a long workbench scattered with items of clothing dividing the room, with a bent, old man and, Declan presumed, his slightly younger wife behind it. The man was unrolling a bolt of homespun tweed and the woman had a needle in her hand and a garment of some kind spread across her knees. Both of them looked frightened and about to run for the door which he could see a short distance behind them. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Without speaking, Declan unbuckled his sword belt and the long-axe harness and leaned both the weapons and their scabbards against the nearest wall. He unfastened the torn and ragged cloak and let it fall to the floor before walking across to the bench where, without looking at it, let the purse Ma'el had given him fall onto it with a muffled clinking. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man did not look at the purse, either, but he appeared vastly relieved as he said, "How may I serve you, good sir?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan smiled. "As you can see," he said, "in my travels I have fallen among thieves and robbers. My needs are for new apparel, a bath, and barbering." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For an instant the other's gaze rested on the weapons leaning against the wall, then he too smiled and said, "One wonders how many of the thieves and robbers are also fallen. My name is Padraig, good sir, and I can fill all of your needs, although I would respectfully suggest not in the order you have expressed. If the bathing and barbering were to be done first, we could use the time to ready your garments. What manner and quality of apparel is your pleasure?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I require a warm cloak and thick, woollen garments," Declan replied, seeing no good reason to give his own name, "that are suited to a long journey by sea and land. And high, tight boots, and oiled skins to keep the water out and the warmth in. If you have other advice that would be helpful in this matter, please speak it." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Slowly and with much protesting of age-stiffened joints, the old man ducked under the bench and came forward with measuring cords and a writing slate in his hands. The seamstress pushed aside her present work in readiness for this new commission that was plainly of greater urgency. While the other plied his cords and called out dimensions to his wife, Declan remained silent, not because of deliberate discourtesy but due to the fact that the man was so pleased and excited by the advent of this unexpected patron that he left no spaces between his words for anyone else to speak more than a single syllable. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was more than likely, Declan thought, that the tailor would also be a barber. In the event it came as no surprise that he had guessed aright. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Padraig continued to talk as he trimmed the overgrown hair but fell silent in concentration while he was scraping the tufts from Declan's chin and face, particularly when he was working around the fresh and older scars. This furnished the opportunity for Declan to ask a few questions rather than politely refusing to answer the other's. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The place in Cashel in which to relax in convivial company was further down the street, the drinking house owned by his younger brother, Prontius, who would bid him a warm welcome if Padraig's name was mentioned. Declan had expected to spend time there collecting information that might be helpful on their journey. He had not concealed from the other that his destination was Cobh because, considering the type of clothing he had ordered, there was no other place he was likely to be going. But now it seemed that he would have to spend very little time in the brother's drinking house because the old tailor was a very knowledgeable man where the safest tracks and passes were concerned and when, if unforeseen circumstances should arise with people on the way, the mention of the name Padraig of Cashel might well ease matters. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "And now for your bathing," the old man went on when the barbering was complete. "We can offer a cleansing block of the soap we import from Gaul. There is cold, clear water taken from a stream or that which is warm, but more odorous, drawn from the tanneryâ??" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Let it be warm and soapy," said Declan firmly. "The smell of tanning leather will not inconvenience me." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He was led out to a small bath house that had a stone-flagged floor and a sunken, man-sized tub tiled in closer-fitting stones. While it was filling, Padraig offered him a large, coarse towel and an apology. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I will leave you to bathe without company or conversation," he said, "because I needs must help my wife with the cutting and stitching. Most of the garments we have in stock but a few will require alteration. This will be done while you soak yourself." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan nodded and the old man hurried away. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The trickle of heated water entering and leaving the bath had kept it comfortably warm and he was relaxed and half sleeping with all but his head and knees submerged for he knew not how long, when he heard approaching voices. Both were familiar, one for a longer time than the other. The old man entered closely followed by Sean. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'This boy was seeking you in the chinking house," said Padraig. "My brother sent him here. Is his company welcome?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Yes," said Declan, the water splashing about as he sat up quickly. "Sean, is aught amiss?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No," the boy replied, shaking his head. "I, we, wanted to know if you fared well, or needed help to ..." He shook his head again, this time in perplexity. "This place is not where I expected to find you. And, and I see that you have many scars. The wounds are not neatly mended, at least not as neatly as I would have done the work. But ease your mind, Declan, we are not required back with any urgency." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Good," he said, standing up. "The water is pleasantly warm and still fairly clean, and it will help ease the sores and stiffness of travel. Would you like to disrobe and...?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No," said Sean with unnecessary loudness, turning away. In a quieter voice he added, "I shall await you outside." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan smiled at his departing back and to Padraig he said, "The boy is serious in his study of the arts of healing according to the Druidic tradition which, I believe, includes bathing only in icy mountain pools while reciting interminable tribal lays, with a view to concentrating the mind." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Padraig gave a small shudder. "At my age," he said, "that would not be my preferred method of cleansing myself. You may remain soaking if you wish, the garments are not yet ready for you." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "My thanks," said Declan, dropping to his haunches and sliding under the water again. "But the boy. He, too, needs to be fitted for the same journey as mine, with warm garments, a cloak, high sea boots and oiled skins ..." he hesitated, "... if there is enough to recompense you." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â As he turned to leave, the old man waved a dismissive hand. "More than sufficient," he said. "But the boy is slight of build and looks not to be strong. Would smaller, less weighty weapons be required? My youngest brother is a smithy and armorer and would willingly ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No," Declan broke in. "You will remember that he studies the healing arts and for this reason, he tells me, has forsworn the use of all weapons." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Slowly the water grew cool and lost its warm temptation. Declan climbed out and toweled himself vigorously until it felt as if the coarse material was removing his skin as well as the moisture by the time he had finished. Padraig entered then carrying a tray containing a flagon of mulled wine and pieces of spiced bread still hot from the oven which he placed on a nearby bench with apologies for the delay, which would not now be of long duration, in providing Declan's clothing. "The boy?" he asked. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Your healer," said Padraig, inclining his head and giving a small smile, "was served as you have been, although the hot wine was scarcely touched, and has also been appareled as you directed. We talked of many things, of concerns for the future as well as the secret things that the young sometimes reveal to those who are older and, presumably, wiser, and which, you will understand, I shall not pass to you. But as a result of our talk and the healer's advice I have been given, I have taken the liberty of adding protective enhancements of my own which should prove useful for both of you in your future journeying together ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Rest your mind, Padraig," Declan broke in, "I have no wish to pry into the small secrets of a boy. We appreciate your concern for us, but I have not the wherewithal to pay for enhancements." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "â?¦ It is a helmet of thick, layered leather," Padraig went on, his old eyes shining with enthusiasm for this latest work of his mind and hands, "with a strong fore peak. Strips of thinly hammered metal give it strength without too much weight, and it is padded within for comfort and to deaden the force of heavy blows. The fore peak shelters the eyes, and a square of oiled cloth placed on the head before donning it will give protection to the face and neck in inclement weather or, should you travel to hotter climes, a square of lighter material will guard you against the burning of the sun." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He tried to speak again, but the old man gave a gentle smile that was not unlike Ma'el's and raised a hand. "Please," he said. "Consider the headpieces as my gift to you both. If they give useful service, you may want to mention the name of Padraig of Cashel among those you chance to meet" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â By the angle of the sun shining into the street outside, Declan judged that six hours had passed before the work was done and he was again fully dressed and accoutred. His undergarments were warm and easy, the long leather tunic fell halfway to his knees, the boots were long and tightly fastened and the peaked helm of which Padraig was so proud sat firmly but with comfort on his head. His cloak, which was the rich, dark color of a ripened plum, was warm and long, but not so long that it would sweep the ground and muddy its hem. And the leather of his scabbard and the long-axe harness had been cleaned and oiled until they shone. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The work had been well done, he was greatly pleased and felt comfortable with it, and he told the old man warmly of his feelings. Then he made a small bow to Padraig's wife and seamstress, who looked up at him and smiled a secret smile. Declan wondered if she was remembering another young man and, perhaps, times and people and opportunities long past, and walked out to join the waiting Sean. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The boy stared at him for what seemed like a long time without speaking, then said, "Of a certainty, Declan, you do not now look like a beggar. In truth, you look very well." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He eyed the boy up and down. "We both look well," he said. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sean gave a long sigh. "But now you will visit the drinking house," he said, "and I must wait close by to help you find your way back to the wagon?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan drew out Ma'el's purse and shook it gently. From the light, quiet sound it seemed that there were very few coins remaining in it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Not this day," he replied. 'The information and guidance 1 would have sought in the drinking house has already been given to me by Padraig. I have a mind to return Ma'el's purse to him while it is not quite empty, and surprise him." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The boy smiled for the first time in many days. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Do that," he said, "and you will certainly surprise me." CHAPTER SIX Ma'el Report on the Investigation of Earth. Day 112,547 ... Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â On this exercise in foretelling I shall risk no gratuitous displays of Taelon technology, but shall use instead the combination of knowledge, past experience, and observation that these people refer to as common sense â?¦" - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Without further let or hindrance they followed the southwestern path that took them past the Galty Mountains and under the frowning mass of Galty Mor toward Fermoy where they stopped to eat and sleep. This was because Ma'el, rather than proceeding due south to Cork, wished to make preparations for the coming voyage. He did not specify their nature other than to say that they involved materials and spells brought with him from his recent visit to the Hill above the Strand in distant Sligo. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan knew that hill well, having been taken there by his father. It was a beautiful if disquieting place whose gentle, seaward facing slopes bore the burial stones of the past Kings of Connaught, and far above them on the dark mountain of Knocknarea, the burial chamber of the famed and infamous warrior Queen Maeve herself. Thinking of those markers, their westward facing stone surfaces weathered by the Atlantic storms, Declan shivered without knowing why. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "What reason," he said to Ma'el, "had you, who are plainly not a native of this land, for visiting that place of our heroic dead?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "As I have already said," the old man replied in his usual inscrutable fashion, "it is a place of power for me where I renew myself and my magic before setting off on any journey." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan looked at the other, thinking about his own unhappy and unruly past, then he shrugged angrily and said, "It is not a place where I shall ever lie." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el stared at him for a moment and seemed about to speak, then shook his head before returning to the wagon. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For much of the following night, while Sean slept on the canopied driving bench and Declan by the fire, a low, half-humming and half-singing sound came from inside the wagon, and there seemed to be more of the pale blue light than usual squeezing out between the folds of the heavy skins hiding its interior. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The streets and buildings of Cork were similar to those in Cashel, but writ large and with much more noise and movement of people, beasts of burden, and the drays and wagons they pulled. In spite of several days of cold, dry weather, there were so many comings and goings that the ground had no chance to remain frozen and it formed a deep, uneven layer of mud under their wheels. But the noises were of commerce rather than conflict because here the community had learned the lesson well that there was more profit and longlasting pleasure to be gained from honest, or more often dishonest, trading than in the more customary forms of robbery. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â They drove to a market square that was but a short distance from the busy establishments of the shipwrights and boatbuilders, and the even busier drinking and gaming houses along the waterfront, which Ma'el said they would have to visit at a later time. This square was busy with the owners of many stalls and benches displaying their different wares. They paid the usual tithes to the two very large Cork City Gardai, who were on duty at the entrance to discourage the activities of thieves, pickpockets, and others whose crimes were not cloaked by commercial dealings, and were fortunate to find a place large enough to accommodate their wagon with space all around it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sean, who was no longer wearing his helmet, cloak, and sea boots because they were apparel not appropriate for a lowly servant boy, unharnessed the horse and led it to a nearby stable, which looked to be well-ordered and clean. There he made payment for its comfort, feeding, and safety from thieves before returning to assist Declan in setting up the old man's stall and displaying his amulets, potions, and the other arcane wares of a magician and fortuneteller against one side of the wagon. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el took up his position on a padded stool behind the stall, his cloak and cowl arranged so that his hairless features were in shadow, and gave quiet directions. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Sean," he said. "You will move about among the other stalls seeking to buy the freshest food they have to offer. My tastes are simple with no strong preferences, so choose the varieties Declan and yourself prefer. While you have done that, move about in the crowd and speak of me in a loud but confidential voice, as if you were excited and imparting great secrets, about the accomplishments of the great magician and soothsayer who has come among them. You already know well what to do, so please do it once again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Declan," he went on, "your hearing is keen and your movements fast. You I would like to stand at a distance, but ready in case one of the visitors to my stall offers me violence. Make it appear that you are adjusting items of your equipment or some such ruse so that it will it seem that your attention is elsewhere. This is because some of the people who will come to me may wish to discuss matters that are confidential, and it would save them embarrassment if you did not appear to be listening." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I understand," said Declan, turning to take up the position assigned. "I will view each of them briefly on their approach, in case one appears ready to make a sudden attack on you, otherwise I shall listen only for what I judge to be threats against you, then act accordingly." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Without further speech, Ma'el began to arrange the collection of charms, small carvings, and strangely shaped roots on top of his bench. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The first to take an interest in the stall were two youths, clean and fresh of feature, who were a few inches taller than Sean, deeper-voiced, and with the look of brothers born within a year of each other, or they might even have been twins. Their clothing was plain, well-fashioned, clean, and bore no signs of the stains and wear of recent toil so it was likely, Declan thought, that it was rich parents who had toiled to provide the garments for them. They paused at a distance that they must have considered was beyond earshot to talk together when they were not trying to push each other forward or breaking off to giggle nervously like a pair of immature colleens. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "A good day to you, young men," said Ma'el in a voice just loud enough to carry the distance to them. "In what manner may I assist you?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The one who seemed to be older, by a year or perhaps only a few moments, came closer with his brother a pace behind him. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You are a wizard?" he said. "A purveyor of charms and potions that ... that would cause others to change their feelings toward me?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Of course," said Ma'el, dipping his head. His next words were a statement rather than a question. "You desire of me a love potion." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The timid brother edged forward. "It, it must be a true love potion," he said in a nervous voice. "There must be enough for both of us to use. We will recompense you, but it must not be a phial of colored water." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el ignored the insult. "Let me comprehend your situation correctly," he said. "Have you each a single object of desire or..." he hesitated in what might have been mild disapproval,"... do both of you desire no specific object in particular?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The brothers looked at each other for a moment, then the second one stammered, "We each ... They are sisters, but they won't even ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... talk to us ..." the other joined in, "at least, not for more than a few moments. They say that we're unmannerly, impetuous gossoons who ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Good," Ma'el broke in. "Whenever possible 1 prefer not to cater to persons who want to shake a tree for whatever fruit chances to fall out. A potion that will bring you true love, that I can provide." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He had their complete attention as he went on, "But for the greatest efficacy it must be supported and sustained by your own actions and words, and the manner in which you converse when next you meet them. Remember that you are young men, not impatient and impetuous and unmannerly boys, and you should not act or speak as if you were. My words are for each of you. Be slow and gentle in your approach, listen rather than trying constantly to impress with a braggart's speech, and instead try to relate interesting rather than boastful things about yourself, and invite her to do the same about her family, friends, life, and future hopes. Above all be unselfish and patient but very persistent. The potion will make her see that you are a serious, responsible, and thoughtful young man who knows what he wants in life and who may already have found it and, if such be the case, one who will work with patience and consideration to achieve his goal. Follow these instructions with care and perseverance, young men, for this is how the potion of true love will work for you." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He reached down to a small wicker basket at his feet, opened it and withdrew two small flasks containing a deep purple liquid with traces of a black sediment at the bottom, which he shook vigorously before he placed them on top of his bench. The brothers stared at them, silent and serious. The first brother cleared his throat. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'The liquid is a strange color," he said. "In water will it show? Has it a taste? How and when should it be given to them?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Regrettably, the taste is truly vile, and lingering," Ma'el replied, "and it is not to be given to them. Instead, you will each take it as soon as is convenient before your next meeting with these young women. Place a few drops on your tongues and allow them to remain there for as long as possible without swallowing. The lingering taste will serve to remind you of my other words to you, which are an important and continuing part of the very powerful spell that accompanies this potion." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el gave a small nod to indicate that the consultation was over and watched as the first brother placed a coin on the bench before him. He continued to look at it without expression until the other had added three more coins before he gave another small nod, this time of dismissal. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â As they were leaving, Sean returned carrying a large sack in each hand. He was still looking at their departing backs when Declan joined him to help put away the foodstuffs. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'Those two looked as if they were having deep and serious thoughts," he said. "1 wonder what Ma'el told them. And Declan, you look angry. What has happened? What's wrong with you?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan knew that he looked angry, but his anger was not directed at the old man or the boy or even at himself. It was simply that for the first time in many years he was thinking of what his life might have been like if his father had talked to him with the same sympathy and consideration and good sense as Ma'el had shown to those two young men, and he was angry because his only parent had never at any time done so. He shook his head. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Nothing," he said, pulling his lips into something like a smile, "nothing but an unpleasing childhood memory." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When they had transferred the food into the wagon's exterior storage boxes and draped them in wet cloths to keep the contents fresh, Declan and the boy withdrew to the position and distance stipulated by Ma'el. There they kept watch on the stall while making a pretense of talking together. But a passing listener, if there had been one, would have heard no words pass between them because they had nothing to say to each other not, that was, until the fat, capless, red-haired man with a deeply freckled face appeared. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I like not his manner," said Sean in a quiet voice. "He moves toward Ma'el, but his eyes twitch about among the other wagons and stalls." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Nor do I," Declan agreed, reaching back and sliding out his axe. "Your eyes are sharp, boy. That cape he wears is too short to conceal a sword, but there could be knives or cudgels in his belt Slowly and quietly, let us move closer." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You're not going to use that frightful thing!" Sean protested, looking around him. "Not in the middle of a marketplace. Why is there never a Gardai about when you need one?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Having already looked all around him and seen that nobody was paying him any attention, the red-haired man now had eyes only for Ma'el. He advanced toward the stall, smiling and loosening his cape. There was a moment's view of the knife and short-handled stone hammer that he carried. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "How may I serve you, good sir?" said Ma'el. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I heard a boy in the crowd telling everyone that you were a great magician who can foretell the future," he said in a quiet but threatening voice, "and I want to foretell your future. The credulous men and women among us say that great magicians can turn stones into gold, but I have always doubted that. Instead I believe that they have a hoard of gold or silver coins hidden about their persons or possessions. You may serve me by yielding them up now. And your future, old man, if you do not give them to me without delay, will be to die with your scrawny chest and bald egg of a skull stove in." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan moved closer, to a position five paces from both the red-haired man and the stall, and changed to a one-handed grip on his long-axe at its center of balance and began to spin it in vertical circles. It was a difficult trick to do with such a heavy, thick-shafted weapon, and he knew that more than a few moments of it would pain his wrist, but it impressed and often discouraged a would-be attacker. In this case it had the effect of making the other's freckles look black in his suddenly pale face. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Master," said Declan, giving the man a look of disdain, "would you have me open this one's stupid head?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No ...!" Sean began, before Declan silenced him with his upraised, unencumbered hand. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'The boy is a healer and soft-hearted," he said to the man. "He would feel shamed if I did something to you that he, with his limited experience of the healing arts, could not mend. I myself care little what I do to one who threatens the life of our aged and frail master ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No, no, I beg you," the other broke in, beginning to back away. "Have pity. I am impoverished, weak with hunger and needing only a few coins to support my ailing wife and children. I drew no weapon and no bodily harm was done to your master. Please, I meant to threaten his life only with words ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The last few of his words were lost as he suddenly turned and ran with remarkable speed, Declan thought, for a fat and starving man. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan watched as the would-be robber dodged out of sight between the other stalls and wagons, and sighed. "I'm going soft," he said, "talking like that instead of doing physical violence to him. I suppose it comes of spending so much of my time with a healer." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Before Sean could reply, Ma'el raised a finger to point into the crowd behind them and said quietly, "My thanks to you, Declan. But now this frail and aging body of mine is no longer at risk and I would like both of you to withdraw as before and remain watchful. We have another caller." CHAPTER SEVEN Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â This time it was an old man, a merchant wide of girth and halting and feeble in his movements, who said that he wanted not so much to know his own future during the few short years remaining to him as whether or not his three sons would agree to his proposed division of his property between them. When Ma'el asked what manner of young men they were, the other spoke without hesitation and at length about their virtues and vices large and small. But soon his talking moved to other subjects, his business concerns and those people who lived and wrought in the town and who envied him his success. He said that he welcomed this chance to talk to and be advised by a traveler who knew nothing about the people he spoke of and whose advice, therefore, would be more balanced than that of self-seeking friends who might seek advantage from the words he spoke. But it was evident to the listening Declan that the old merchant wanted to talk, and even gossip and relate shameful or humorous facts about others to what he considered to be a safe pair of ears. In time he left pleased and with his own ears filled with Ma'el's good advice, which included the suggestion that his future might not be as short as he expected. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â There followed two colleens, bright, fair, open of face, and scarcely mature who, like the young men who had called earlier, pushed each other forward in their shyness. They, too, wanted to know the future but as yet had no clear idea of what they wanted their futures to be. Ma'el talked to them kindly and sent them away with good advice and vague promises that satisfied them. They were followed by another caller who apart from being female, Declan could see at once, was in no other respect the same. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â She was a young woman, small, strongly built, and with a confident and competent look about her that was at odds with the hesitancy of her approach. Her bare feet and the hem of her well-worn dress were splattered with the mud of the soft ground, but the shawl around her shoulders was new or at least freshly washed, and her long, dark hair was held in a comb that was worn with an air that suggested that it might be her most valued decoration. Her face was broad and plain with eyes that were dark and lively and, Declan thought, in spite of the hands worn rough by toil and her lowly circumstances, she had a mouth that was no stranger to a smile. It was Ma'el who spoke first. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Come forward, young woman, and speak of yourself," he said quietly. "Doubtless I look old and strange to you, but I am not a demon, and the passage of years and the kind of life I must lead have robbed me of all my hair. Is there a service you would ask of me?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The other's face deepened in color and she spent more than a little time in thought before she nodded her head with firmness before giving answer. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "If you please, venerable one," she said, "Iâ??I would know the future." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Of course you would," said Ma'el. He spent a long moment of his own looking at her without movement of feature or even the blink of an eye, then went on gently, "But would you know what the future holds for you yourself, or for another, or for both of you?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Her color deepened again. She glanced sideways at Declan and Sean who were standing some thirty paces distant, then she said in a firm but quiet voice, 'it is for both of us. I would know if we, in our bodies as well as our futures, will lie together. But how did you know this? Is it because you are a great magician as that boy over there proclaimed?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el continued to regard her with steady eyes but gave no answer. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â While pretending to be interested in some other person or event in the marketplace, Declan nodded knowingly to himself. Most of the young women like this one who sought the services of a fortuneteller were curious about what the future held for herself and her young man. A magician though the old man might claim to be, he was honest in laying no claims to the possession of wizardly powers while he was simply making a guess that was almost sure to be the correct one. As Ma'el spoke on it pleased Declan greatly for some strange reason that in the simpler trickeries of his craft the other was being honest. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Child," said Ma'el, "from the look of your eyes and face, it is clear to see that you are deeply in love with a young man. But if I am to look into your future lives, whether they are to be lived together or apart, I must know something of your pasts. First you will tell me of your own past life, and then of his." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â She bobbed her head, smiled, and without further hesitation began, "My name is Maeve, a spinster, the youngest and least comely of four sisters, two of whom are wedded, and their husbands and the children to come will share in my father's farm, which is not large enough for all of us ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was a common situation and a continuing tragedy throughout the land, Declan knew, that a family's unsupported young had to find their own livelihoods elsewhere than on the homelands they had known. But it became clear, as Ma'el drew out the words from her and gave his gentle reassurances in return, that this was an uncommon young woman who had a great warmth of feeling and a bright and lively mind that contained no sorrow for herself. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... He is older by a few years than I," she was saying, having moved the subject of conversation to her perhaps not so young man. "He is a seafarer, tall and strong but..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'That is a profession," Ma'el broke in gently, "fraught with many dangers. And temptations. Would not another young man who remains closer to home be a better choice for your future life?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No!" said the other with quiet but respectful vehemence. "He will remain true to me, as I will to him, for as long as we shall live." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el made no reply and she went on, "He is not well-favored in his face, and in manner he is uncouth and even harsh to those around him when his master bids it so. But to me he has always shown gentleness and consideration, even when we are ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â She stopped speaking as Ma'el raised his hand, then opened and closed it several times as if to relieve a stiffness of age in his fingers before returning it to rest on the bench top. He said, "Please continue." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan felt Sean's hand lightly gripping his upper arm. "That was Ma'el's signal for us to move away," said the boy, "and a sign that matters of a personal and intimate nature may be discussed. Perhaps the young woman's deepest and most private feelings will be revealed, and matters which he thinks are no concern of ours." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I think he is right," said Declan, with feeling. They walked away slowly until their distance from the stall had more than doubled. Their movements were seemingly aimless but they were always able to keep the wagon in sight. They walked together slowly for what seemed to be a very long time before Ma'el gave another hand signal which, Sean informed him, meant that they should return. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The woman was about to leave by the time they were close enough to see the smile that was on her face and in her eyes, and to hear her words of profuse thanks. She drew a small purse from under her shawl and emptied the few coins it contained onto the bench in front of Ma'el. The old man gathered them up, returned all of them to the purse, then gave it back to her. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Go," he said gently, "and may good fortune attend both of you." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When she had gone, Sean said, "Master, you spoke with her for a very long time and made no charge whatsoever for your services. With respect, this is not the way to gain a comfortable livelihood." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Fear not, child," Ma'el replied, "I shall not make it a habit. In truth, I should have paid that young woman for the valuable knowledge she imparted on many subjects of interest to me, but doing that would have given rise to much talk and general speculation about the health of my mind, so all I gave her was the best advice that I could give. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Besides," he went on, in a voice that made it difficult for Declan to decide whether or not the old man was being serious, "a few coins are of little matter to me. You are forgetting the hoard of gold and silver that I am reputed to keep hidden in my wagon." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sean made an irritated but respectful sound and said, "It grows dark. Shall I light the cooking fire?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el shook his head. "No, child," he said. 'Tonight we eat, and perhaps drink a little, with a roof over our heads before returning here to sleep. Both of you will dress in your new apparel so that all who meet us will think that your master is a person of substance." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â With the approach of darkness, the vehicles, stalls, and goods belonging to the other merchants were covered and secured before their owners, too, left to spend the evening elsewhere. Ma'el's bench and stall were dismantled and stowed away and the old man, without going into details, let it be known that a spell was in place which would ensure the safety of their wagon from thieves or the merely curious. Such interference was an unlikely possibility because the two Gardai on duty would patrol throughout the night and any person who did not have business in the marketplace would, without exception, have his head cracked open. It was a point of honor with the Garda authorities in Cork, whose continuing livelihood depended on its merchants both resident and passing through, that they be able to conduct their business with as much peace of mind as was possible. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â As one who knew precisely where he was bound, Ma'el led them to the waterfront and a wide, low building which had the warm, yellow light of innumerable lamps and the subdued roar of many voices pouring from its entrance and window openings, in company with the smells of cooking food and ale. The old man led the way into a wide room whose smoke-blackened ceiling beams were supported by pillars of carved and decorated wood. A log fire crackled in a raised, centrally placed stone hearth which had cooking spits and long-handled pans laid across it, and most of the smoke was finding its way out through a square hole in the roof that could be covered by a hinged flap in case of heavy rain. It being still early in the evening, the place was not yet crowded. Declan pointed to a table close to a nearby wall with the soft-spoken advice that, as first-time visitors, they should place themselves where they could not be surprised from the rear. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â A young bar servant appeared and quickly brought three empty stools to the table and recited the list of food and drink that was available before asking what was their pleasure. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Please bring two more seats," said Ma'el. "I am expecting others to join us presently, and our needs can await their arrival." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "But surely we are strangers in this city," said Sean. "Who can you be expecting?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man answered the question by pointing toward the entrance. 'They are here," he said. "Sean, please approach them with politeness and speak respectfully to them thus ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan watched as the boy went across to the two men quickly but not in a manner that might constitute a threat. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â They were both experienced seafarers, judging by their dress and by way they stood on wide-braced feet as if expecting the sanded clay floor beneath them to pitch and roll at any moment. Perhaps, he thought, if they partook of enough ale throughout the evening to come, the floor might indeed do that. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â One of them was tall, with white hair cut short and square features that were burned dark by wind and spray. His chin was shaven clean and he had gray eyes that, once fixed on an object, seemed never to look away. He had shoulders so broad and powerful that they made it seem as if he had no neck, and his arms and legs were fashioned in the same muscular mold. So far as Declan could see, he wore no weapons, but with a build like that it was doubtful if he needed any. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â His companion, whose position half a pace behind the older man made it plain which of them had the rank, was equally tall but of slighter build and with black hair untouched with gray. Thick brows shaded his eyes and the ink-dark and probably self-barbered beard began high on his cheekbones and partially concealed the unusual width of his large mouth before coming to a point under his chin. But the mass of black facial hair served only to accentuate the long, crooked nose that split his face vertically like a yellowed and blue-veined mountain range. Declan thought that it came close to being the ugliest face he had ever laid eyes upon. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â They followed Sean to the table where the white-haired one stopped to regard them in turn, beginning and ending with Ma'el before he spoke. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I am Seosadn Ui Nuallain, or Joseph Nolan if you are a Saxon, and this," he said, indicating his companion, "is my ship's Ionadacht who is known, for obvious reasons, as Seamus Dubh. The boy said that you wished urgent words with us." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I am Ma'el," said the old man, "a traveler from a far land whose family name and clan would mean nothing to you and should therefore remain nameless. The boy is Sean and the large one is Declan." He pointed to the vacant seats and went on, "You are welcome at our table because your name, Captain Nolan, and that of Seamus the Black, your first lieutenant, are known to us and your reputations go before you. I have a commission of importance to offer you which ... Ah, here is the bar servant. We can discuss the matter before, during, or after eating and drinking as you prefer." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The servant was once again reciting the house's offerings when Ma'el held up on a hand for silence. "As men of the sea," he said, "you are perhaps overly familiar with the taste of fish. Please feel free to order beef or lamb or fowl should one of those be to your preference. And, of course, something to wash it down." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The large and dreadfully uneven teeth of Seamus flashed white and his superior also smiled because, out of consideration for the unknown depth of Ma'el's purse, they had been ordering what they knew to be the least-costly food. They set about changing their selections without delay. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Ma'el, the extent of your hospitality pleases and honors us," said Captain Nolan with the smallest of smiles. "But I have long learned that there is no such thing as a free feast. This being so, you will understand why we shall not drink with you until your commission of importance has been fully discussed and agreed upon. An agreement between us, if there should be one, ought not to be the uncertain product of ale-befuddled brains. So we will wait instead until we can drink in friendship to a successful conclusion to our business, if we can find one. Is there agreement on this?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Without hesitation it was agreed. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â As time passed Nolan and Ma'el ate and talked and at times argued, but progress was being made because the two seafarers were looking more and more at ease and had begun to drink with them. Seamus made a pretense of ignoring his master's words and instead asked questions of the other two servants at the table, Sean and Declan. His manner was direct, forthright, and at times verged on the uncouth as he said whatever it was that came into his mind. Declan spoke less and less until finally he had to keep his lips pressed firmly together because he was so furious with Seamus that that was the only way he could hold onto his temper. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... And your master treats you well," Seamus was saying, looking them up and down, his eyes moving from Declan to Sean and back again, "and your clothing is useful, but pretty ..." His gaze went to the long-axe that was propped against the wall behind their table "... Can you use that thing?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When it was plain that Declan was not going to reply, Sean made an angry sound and said, "He can." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I wasn't talking to you, boy," said Seamus. "You should not break in without permission when grown men are speaking. What frets you?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan joined in before Sean could lose a temper that was much shorter than his own. "I would not want to make empty boasts about my battles," he said in a voice that had quietness forced upon it, "but the boy has seen the results of some of them. He is a healer, young but skilled in the art as you can see ..." he touched his recently scarred cheek "... and it angers him that some of my opponents he has been unable to mend." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Seamus nodded and showed his uneven teeth again. "Now that is a useful accomplishment," he said, his tone changing suddenly from the critical to the complimentary. "Hurts, large and small, are always being sustained on board ship even when there are no sea battles to cause them, as well as poxes and fevers and blains from the cold. And the long-axe is a weapon favored by Norse sea raiders in close ship engagements. It would discommode them to find it being used against as well as by them. Can you take an oar?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Yes," said Declan. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Also useful in a sea chase ..." the other began, and stopped because Captain Nolan had raised his voice. "... Three passengers and the wagon I can accommodate," he was saying in a voice that was loud but not yet angry, "but not the horse. If the seas were rough it would suffer great hardship. Maddened with fear it might kick a hole in our thin-walled craft that was built for speed. If the drinking water should run short on a long voyage, its ration would be many times that of a seaman, and if it were to break a limb we would have to end up by killing and eating it. Taking it with us would be a needless cruelty. No horse." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el inclined his head gently and said, "No horse." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â In a soft, sad voice, Sean looked at Ma'el and said, "I really loved that old horse. Are you sure we can't take him?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man did not reply because Captain Nolan was tapping the table top for attention as he began speaking again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Besides," he said, "there is a circumstance not yet mentioned. I already have a prior commission, for which payment in advance has been made, to take a passenger of great importance, Brian of the Clan O'Rahailley, who is about to embark on a very long voyage indeed, a voyage whose expenses are shared by the kingdoms of both Tirconnel and Dalriada, so that your own needs would be secondary to his. He is the principal advisor on commercial and military matters to the King of Tirconnel. Brian is a far-traveled scholar and philosopher of great renown who has been honored by many kingdoms near and far ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Brian O'Rahailley," said Black Seamus suddenly in a loud voice, taking a large swallow from his flagon, "is a spy." CHAPTER EIGHT Ma'el Report. Day 112,548 ... Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The officers and the other passenger on this ship are cultured and intelligent by their standards, and the crew are strong-willed and sensible so that they will dismiss my magic for what they think it is when they see or hear about it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Nothing more of Taelon technology will be revealed other than that already shown to my servants ..." - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The ship that lay alongside the jetty projecting from the west shore of the harbor of Cobh was a strange vessel, completely without grace of line and seemingly built by shipwrights who had changed their minds several times in the course of its building. In some ways it was like the ships of the Norsemen, except that it was longer and somewhat broader in the beam and mounted two masts and booms to carry a large square sail, and the shield-lined rowing and fighting positions amidships were higher above the waterline, and as an additional defense there were five posts that projected upward at equal intervals along each side to support the nets used to inconvenience would-be boarders. There was an additional mast and slanting boom forward that resembled drawings Declan had once seen of an eastern Mediterranean felucca and, just barely visible in the water under the bow, there was the dark shape of a long, sharp ram that belonged on one of the old Greek war galleys. The stern section, as well as mounting a heavy tiller for the rudder, was raised to give a view forward in the manner of a Roman fighting galley. Concealed by its weather covers amidships was an object that looked like a large arbalest. Altogether the vessel had such an odd look that Ma'el's skin-covered wagon, which was already secured to the deck and with two low shelters rigged under it for Sean and himself, seemed almost normal amid these other strangenesses. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was plain from the captain's manner that the vessel was his pride and joy, an object held in greater esteem than his wife and family if he had one. As they were going on board Declan was careful not to mention any part or aspect of the sea-going monstrosity for fear of giving offense, but not so the captain. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Your silent forbearance does you credit," he said, and gave a wry smile as he gestured toward the weapons Declan carried. "In many ways we are all robbers in that we steal many of the things that have been used against us over the years by enemies, and improve on them and use those same weapons to fight back. You have a Norseman's long-axe, specially weighted and improved to your needs, your sword is a well-tried Roman gladius and the shield we found for you, only that is Hibernian because there are few known to us that better it in lightness and strength." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He paused for a moment to watch Ma'el enter the wagon, the tenting of which had been firmly lashed down, and Sean climb onto the driving bench that no longer had its canopy in case a strong wind should blow it away. The boy stood on the bench, holding onto the nearby rigging and staring all around him with the bright-eyed, fearful, yet excited look of one who is viewing such surroundings for the first time. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'This is why honest men like myself become robbers, too," Captain Nolan went on. "We steal not just the goods and weapons of attacking seafarers but their sailing and ship-handling methods as well. This ..." he gestured all around and above him, "... is a vessel completely lacking in beauty of line or proportion. She is a misshapen mongrel of a ship. But she has qualities that a stranger and land-dweller like yourself might not see. She has a very shallow draft, almost flat-bottomed, and with a narrow keel and rudder that enables her to move close inshore into waters where other vessels would run onto reefs or beach themselves. She has many other useful qualities, but suffice it to say that in a favoring wind Orla can outrun any other ship that I have met or learned of by hearsay. If there is an adverse wind she can even ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The captain looked away and fell into the uncomfortable silence of one who thinks he has talked too much. There was an enthusiasm and a softness about this Captain Nolan, Declan realized, that did not show on the craggy surface. He laughed quietly. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "1 begin to feel great affection and trust for your misshapen mongrel," he said, and quickly raised a placating hand. "Remember, Captain, those were your words for her, not mine." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'True, but you will not at any time use them in anyone else's hearing," said the captain, then briskly, "We leave at once. Seamus! Raise the main sail. Stand by to cast off." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "B-but," Declan stammered, "without your other passenger?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Captain Nolan shook his head. "He came on board last night, preferring that as few as possible of the local authorities in Cork know of his presence or business here. You will meet him this evening. But now, Declan, there is much work for the crew to do and you would oblige me by not allowing your large body to interfere with it. Go join your friends at the wagon and remain close to it." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The wind off the land was light, bringing with it the smells of a city preparing for a new day, so that the slow, regular creaking and splashing of the oars and the occasional shouted command were the only sounds until they were clear of the jetties and wharves of the city and had turned southward past Cobh into the wide, land-sheltered expanse of greater Cork Harbor. There the strengthening northerly caught their sail and made further rowing unnecessary, except when the wind brought them close to the shoreline of the south passage and they had to row themselves clear. But when they passed south of Ballinuska, almost hidden by frosty mist and the wood smoke of its fires, the oars were shipped because ahead lay the open sea and to the west the even-more-open ocean of legendary Atlantis. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Very soon the long, smooth-topped Atlantic waves were striking the vessel amidships and making it roll alarmingly, except that no other person on board, with the exception of the boy beside him, showed any signs of alarm. Declan wanted badly to talk, about anything to anyone, so as to have something to think about other than a belly that wanted to empty itself when there was nothing in it to throw up. But the pallid-faced and sweating boy was not disposed to talk, and there seemed to be an invisible but very real barrier between the busy sailors he approached and idle passengers like himself, which would not allow anything through it but a few impatient, grunted words. He clenched his teeth and when he felt particularly bad he looked through slitted eyes at the sun, which was the only object he could find that was moving slowly enough not to make him feel sick. Several hours later when it was touching the horizon and throwing wide, orange reflections off the larger waves, a member of the crew came to offer the boy and himself a bannock of wheaten bread and something in a stoppered flask which both of them refused. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â After sunset, Declan transferred his attention to the bright, still shape of the rising moon. He was feeling much better although not yet well enough to eat, but by the time the moon had climbed high and a crew member came to say that Ma'el and his servants should come at once to the captain's cabin for the evening meal, his stomach was complaining of hunger rather than seasickness. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was plain from the navigational instruments and rolled-up charts on the shelves behind it that during his working day the captain's table was used for purposes other than eating. Presently it was set for with six places with Captain Nolan at its head, his lieutenant Seamus at his right and the other passenger, Brian O'Rahailley, seated on his left. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "My name is Brian," he said, smiling as he looked up at Ma'el. "Please, sit by me. I have been told that you are a wizard and a seer of future events, and this is the first opportunity I have had to discuss the subject with one who may be truly versed in the magical arts." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The manner and appearance of the other passenger came as a complete surprise, Declan thought, as Ma'el took the proffered place while Sean sat facing the captain and he seated himself between the boy and Seamus. He had expected that a court advisor, a well-traveled philosopher and scholar and, according to Seamus the Black, a spy, should be old and wizened with hands gnarled by the twisting stiffness of age and a face marked deeply by long and varied experience. But Brian O'Rahailley showed none of those signs. Instead he could not have been more than a decade older than Declan, shorter and more widely built and with a round and open countenance that smiled readily and gave no appearance of his possession of high rank. It was only his eyes that looked old. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian talked freely and in a manner that was friendly, amusing, and interesting, so much so that even Sean looked at ease in his company and was sparing more attention to him than to the wine he was drinking. But Declan noticed that the other was somehow able to talk continuously while saying nothing of great importance, particularly about himself. Instead he was trying, with words that were subtle questions, to draw information from Ma'el. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Only gradually did Declan realize that the old man was doing precisely the same thing to the other passenger and that he seemed to be winning the contest. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was Brian who was first to lose his patience as well as his politeness. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Come, come, Ma'el," he said quietly, but with an angry edge to his voice. "Shyness sits ill on a magician who is, or at least should be, an entertainer. Perform for us, if you will, a few of your tricks. Tell us of the success that will attend our endeavors ..." he looked aside and smiled knowingly at Captain Nolan and Black Seamus, "... for I doubt that you would spoil our evening by foretelling death and destruction. Perhaps you will tell me of the next lady I shall meet, and whether or not she will bestow her favors or even, after many unsuccessful endeavors throughout my life, if I will find true love with her?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el looked at the other for a moment, his smooth features seemingly as impassive to insults as they were to all other acts of threatened verbal or physical violence. "I do not perform tricks," he said, placing his hands palm downward before them in one of his fluid and almost ritualistic gestures. "But by using my mind and my eyes and my experience of the past and present, I can often see how future events will transpire." His gaze moved slowly from Brian to rest in turn on the captain and lastly on Black Seamus. "There is one here who will not find true love in his lifetime, and one who needs not the love of a woman because he. loves only the sea, and another who has already found the true and undying love he hungers for, but is as yet afraid to admit even to himself that this great good fortune is already his." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian began to laugh, softly at first and then more loudly before his face became serious again and he said, "Ma'el, you are indeed a trickster, but with words, and for a frail old man you placed yourself at great risk." He smiled, waved a dismissive hand and went on, "No, not from me, because your telling the company that I would never find true love was, I suspect, but an angry and well-deserved response to my earlier bad manners toward you for which, Ma'el, I now beg your pardon. And telling us that Captain Nolan's greatest love is the sea was a safe forecast, because there is not a man who serves in the fleets of Dalriada who would not use the same words about Mm. But telling the ugliest... My apologies, Seamus, you are a good man in a fight but we both know the description is regrettable but true... telling the ugliest man in that same fleet that he has found the true and undying love of a woman is ... If you had been a younger man, Ma'el, I think by now you would have felt the fist of Black Seamus in your face." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Everyone including his captain was looking at the ship's Ionadacht whose eyes were regarding Ma'el from beneath lowered brows. All other expression was concealed by the thick blackness of his beard. But to Declan's surprise his mouth was closed and remained so for he neither moved nor spoke a word. Around them the quiet and almost unnoticed sounds of a ship at sea began to seem loud. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You are a pleasant, educated, and interesting table companion, Ma'el." said Brian, breaking the long silence, "who will doubtless help us shorten the monotony of this long voyage but, alas, a wizard and magician you are not." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The bottom of Sean's drinking beaker slapped loudly onto the tabletop, without spilling any wine because there was none remaining in it. Speaking with the careful clarity of one whose mind is befuddled and his tongue reluctant to do his bidding, he said, "Ma'el is a wizard. He is not a trickster. Iâ??I have seen him do great works of magic." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "In vino Veritas," said Brian, using a phrase of scholar's Latin, a language he would not expect servants to understand. He smiled again as he looked from the boy to the old man and went on, "My compliments, Ma'el, you have a loyal servant who has complete belief in you." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan cleared his throat and, looking steadily at Brian, said in a quiet voice, "He has two." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Enough!" said the captain, slapping his open hand on the table. When the eating utensils had stopped rattling he went on, "This voyage will be a long one, and with enough dangers as it is without them being worsened by ill feeling among this company. I have no wish for, nor will I tolerate for a moment, fighting among my passengers regardless of whether their stations in life are highborn or lowly or, indeed ..." he gave a small nod toward Brian, "... the part one of you played in providing the excellent food and wine we have all enjoyed this evening. Verbal warfare only will I allow, provided it is polite and, above all, entertaining, and it does not extend beyond this table. As the captain of a vessel at sea may I remind you that I am the sole and ultimate authority on board, the dispenser of high, middle, and low justice. This must be understood by everyone here present. Is it?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He looked around the table until all had either spoken or nodded their heads in assent, then he smiled. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Good," he said. "Providing the wind and weather favor us, and no other agency real or magical deems otherwise, we will dine here tomorrow evening. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You have my permission to withdraw." CHAPTER NINE Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â By the following evening all of the diners seemed to be in a particularly good humor. This, Declan decided, was because the sun had risen and set in a sky totally without clouds, the wind had continued light but steady from the north and the Atlantic swell was smooth and regular enough not to inconvenience the stomachs of any of the passengers. His last view of Hibernia before the sunset mists rising from the sea had covered it had been as a gray line too thin for the southern mountains to show, while as yet too indistinct to be seen by moonlight. The tip of the long peninsula that the Britons called Land's End lay fine off the port bow. Under a favoring nor-noreasterly wind stiff enough to make the use of oars unnecessary, the end of the third day saw them passing the tip of the great peninsula of Gaul that projected westward into the Atlantic. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â That evening the meal went well. Again there was much verbal thrusting and parrying between Brian and Ma'el, but it was too good-humored and friendly for anyone to feel insulted or angry, and not once did the captain remind them to behave themselves as he had had to do on the first evening of their voyage. It was plain that Brian was still trying to draw out and, if possible, discredit Ma'el, but he had changed his strategy. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Instead of asking questions he was volunteering information about himself, usually in the form of amusing anecdotes in which he did not always come off best, in the hope or expectation of Ma'el returning the favor. Many times he had the company hanging on his every word, with Sean in particular paying close attention and, respectfully, asking questions at every opportunity. Occasionally the boy could not help letting slip past incidents involving Ma'el's past. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian was a subtle and persistent man, Declan thought, who would elicit the knowledge he desired from lesser sources if the greater was closed to him. Unfortunately, the stratagem did not work where Declan was concerned because he had not known Ma'el long enough to let anything slip. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Unlike the first evening, which had given the boy a sick stomach and a very sore head for the rest of the following day, Sean had been merely sipping at his wine. But he was bright-eyed and excited and the convivial company seemed to be all the intoxication needed to loosen his tongue, as now, when it threatened to stray beyond the limits of good manners into matters personal. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "With respect, sir,'' he said, "you have recounted many of your adventures in far places, among strange people whose customs are even stranger, and have brought back knowledge of them that must be beyond price to the learned of our homeland. I truly envy you the things you have done and the life you live. As a person you are gifted and resourceful and daring, although modestly you try to discount your own bravery ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You are well versed in the art of flattery, young Sean," said Brian, smiling, "as well as that of healing. Your words go around my heart like a warm blanket. Pray continue." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The boy continued, and it was clear that he was choosing his words with care as he said, "You are easy and gentle of manner, regardless of the lowliness of the company you keep, such as a servant like me, and it is certain that you do not look the part. But I have a curiosity that will not let my mind rest ..." Sean did not so much as glance toward Seamus, who Declan knew to have been the recent sayer, "... But I have heard it said of you that â?¦Why are you called a spy?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â They were all staring at the boy: Ma'el with his customary lack of expression; Seamus with his expression hidden behind his hairy mask; and the captain, his face deepening in color while he slowly filled his lungs for a shout of anger that would have carried the length of the ship. Brian's features were still and pale for a moment, then they relaxed into another smile as he gazed intently into the boy's eyes, nodded, then spoke. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It is because 1 am a spy," he said. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The heads around the table turned as one toward this new center of attention, but it was Captain Nolan, the earlier anger toward Sean fading from his face, who spoke first. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Have a care, Brian," he said quietly. "Seamus and I know well what you do and this is not the first time we have helped you do it. But with respect, this is a stupid and dangerous admission for you to make in public. I advise you to say no more on the subject" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Rest your mind, Captain," Brian said with a reassuring gesture of one hand while he used the other to take a long draught from his goblet He smiled again and went on, "This is scarcely a public place and I trust the discretion of all those here, including the trusted and loyal servants of our magician, not to add substance to the few rumors that may be circulating about some of my activities." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el looked slowly from Sean to Declan and nodded his head, signifying that in this matter their lips were to remain sealed. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Spying is generally thought to be a profession practiced by avaricious and unprincipled men and women who are without honor or morals," Brian went on, looking only at Sean, "and dangerous to those who do the work badly by revealing either themselves or their intentions. Without false modesty, I can say that I do my work very well, by appearing to reveal everything about myself and thus disarming all suspicion. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "As the captain knows," he went on, "this will be my second voyage to Rome and Athens and Alexandria, and wherever else in the Mediterranean that present knowledge of local political, commercial, and military matters was or is of interest to my employers. But the interest I show while visiting those great cities is open and unfeigned, the natural curiosity of a far-traveling scholar and seeker after truth who is impractical with respect to the realities of the world, who appears to be without guile and who has a reputation for revealing all kinds of interesting information when the wine flows freelyâ??" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â ... In Egypt under the Pharaohs, he went on, it had been the custom to provide important visitorsâ??and Brian admitted to being neither reticent nor completely factual while describing his own importanceâ??with accommodation, servants, and a pension suited to their station in life together with invitations to the court functions and entertainments. Since the time of the Caesar, Julius, when Egypt's power and influence waned and it had become a mere province of Rome, the quality of the entertainments had diminished, but they were still lavish indeed by Hibernian standards. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â On these occasions the usual diplomatic games would be played, with the visitor being wined and dined and encouraged to talk about his homeland, its concerns and ambitions, as well as the lands and cities he had visited and the dress, customs, and achievements of the people he had met on his epic journey from Hibernia. The majority of his listeners would have no interest in the matters he described, but his lightest word would be examined for content of a commercial or military nature by the merchant princes and the generals who were present, while at the same time he would be trying to extract the same kind of information from his hosts. In this game neither party was expected to tell the truth, but due allowances were made for the obvious fabrications and misdirections, just as a high level of exaggeration in the related exploits was accepted for no other reason than that it made the tales more entertaining. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â As a visitor Brian was popular as a teller of tales but disappointing as a source of commercial and military intelligence. Whenever he had imbibed too freely of the dark and deceptively potent wines of Egypt and Gaul, which was nearly every evening, he would relate shocking and highly scandalous gossip concerning the unrecorded activities of the rulers and the other highborn of the courts and palaces he had visitedâ??tales of a kind which, had they been told of the person or family of the local ruler, would have cost the teller his head. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â But from Brian they never seemed to learn anything useful, anything that was not already known, because he did not seem to know or display other than the polite curiosity that was required by good manners about matters that they themselves considered important. And the reason given for this large area of ignorance in an otherwise intelligent and cultured person was that Brian professed himself to be a seeker after knowledge for its own sake who had no interest in the coarser pursuits of martial conquest and the acquisition of wealth. Although there had been many occasions when the ladies of a court would have been pleased to broaden his education, he seemed to have only three abiding interests: the sampling to excess of the local wines; consorting with others of a similar turn of mind to his own; and browsing in the greatest libraries of the known world where he was most likely to find these intelligent and impractical people, people who unknowingly had much practical knowledge that they were unaware of giving, away ... Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â .. As you will already have observed," Brian went on, raising a deprecating eyebrow at Sean, "I am such a simple, friendly, outgoing man that not one of the jaded sophisticates of the many courts I have visited ever suspected that I was better at playing their games than they were themselves." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â A long silence fell around the table. It was plain from the stillness in the faces and bodies that the captain and his lieutenant had received further confirmation of something they had long known. Sean's mouth was open and his eyes shining with excitement at the revelations, and Ma'el was as inscrutable as ever. But Brian was beginning to show his impatience again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "We are alike in many ways, old man," he said, turning to Ma'el. "You collect knowledge of the past and present to chart a course into the future, and if your charting is accurate this can be valuable in many ways. But I think you have other talents besides and it is these which interest me. There is a strangeness, a feeling of certainty about you, and an even stranger lack of fear in you that does not go with your frailty of age. I have an odd feeling about you, old man, and my feelings are rarely wrong. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You are in possession of knowledge of great importance," he went on, "and secrets greater and more valuable, I feel sure, than any of those I glean in the course of my travels. Come, Ma'el, play the game with fairness. I have told you everything of importance about me, it is now for you to oblige us with the same information regarding yourself." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el inclined his head for a moment, but he was looking at the captain when he spoke. "There is a small but very important secret, a piece of knowledge I had intended to impart," he said quietly, "when an opening in Brain's very interesting account of his work allowed it ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I know I talk too much, old man," Brain broke in, an irritated edge to his voice. "But we don't want your small secrets, we want matters of substance, and especially not the paltry little secret of whose existence we already know. The captain and Black Seamus saw through it at once, but of course said nothing about it, at their first meeting with you. I myself learned of it during the first evening's meal. It is a small matter, and of no real interest or importance to us, that you employ a female servant who pretends to be and dresses as a boy ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "What!" Declan broke in, his voice rising almost to a shout. "Brian, the wine has rotted your brain. That is a stupid thing to say. I have traveled with Ma'el and the boy since..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Even your other servant, it seems, was unaware of this small secret," said Brian, ignoring Declan and keeping his eyes on Ma'el. "Strange. But the personal perversions of an old man are of no interest to me, it is your other..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No!" said Sean, his face turning deep pink with anger and embarrassment. "I was little more than a defenseless child. He rescued me, hid and protected me, and saved my life. But at no time did he try to ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The words were cut short as Declan jumped angrily to his feet, or at least tried to until the cabin's low overhead deck timbers cracked against his skull and further added to his mental confusion. Ma'el held up both hands palms outwards for silence, one directed at Sean and the other at Declan. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'This is a matter of small importance," said Ma'el, "which we will discuss fully at a later time, if there is a later time for all of you." He turned to divide his attention between the captain and Brian and went on, "I wish to perform a necessary act of magic or, to be precise, an accurate foretelling of the future stretching over the next three days ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Mere fortunetelling," Brian scoffed. "No magic, just trickery with words. I want more than that from you, old man." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... To you it will be magic," Ma'el went on in his high, gentle voice that was somehow able to silence all others, and he regarded everyone in turn before his eyes came to rest on Captain Nolan, "which requires that you follow my instructions exactly. You must guide your ship southeastward so as to round the point of Finisterre and then run for the nearest bay that will give shelter from a high wind. It is best that you do this without argument or delay. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I am using a form of magic that will save all your lives." CHAPTER TEN Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â In spite of Ma'el's advice to the contrary, there was delay and argument that threatened to rage without end. Declan took no part in it because the words of a seemingly untutored servant would be ignored and he was, withal, feeling too angry and confused to speak. Sean remained silent also, staring at him with the color deepening on his or, as he had now learned, her face. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â There had been many signs, he now realized, that he had been too trusting and stupid to see. The lack of physical strength and slim build that had been so at variance with the surprising breadth of knowledge accompanied by the confidence of manner shown by a boy so young should have made him suspect it, because the minds of females matured earlier than those of boys, as should the sure and gentle touch of the hands when the wound to his face was being treated. There had been the knowing smile of Padraig of Cashel after he had fitted both of them with new apparel and, from the first night after the incident with the robbers, Ma'el had made it clear that they should sleep apart in spite of the fact that their shared body warmth would have been a comfort in the frigid nights of late winter. On the land journey as well as in the individual shelters rigged on the ship, the old man had seen to it that they were separated. He made his voice low but clear so that it would carry though the louder arguments raging around them, and tried to keep the anger he felt from showing in it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "So you are a girl, or perhaps a young woman," he said. "You should have told me this. What is your name, or are you still hiding that? How old are you?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â She shook her head and replied in the same, low-pitched, clear tone, "I am Sinead and, and old enough for what you are thinking." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You know not what I am thinking!" Declan replied in a furious undertone. "I promised to guard both of you from all harm. What kind of man do you think I am?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The kind of man I thought you were," she replied, the trace of an apology creeping into her voice, "was a ragged, starving, sword and axe-bearing robber. Since then I have changed my opinion for the better, but I felt a certain embarrassment about revealing my secret to you, and Ma'el would not tell me if or when I should do so." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Before Declan could reply, Brian broke off his argument with Ma'el to say angrily, "Please order your servants to stop muttering among themselves, it is an irritating distraction. Better still, let us use Latin so that they will have nothing to mutter about. Or am I wrong in thinking that a magician of your apparent standing is schooled in Latin?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I will understand you," said Ma'el, touching a small ornament suspended from his right ear, "in whichever language you care to speak." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "One of the qualities you do not lack," said Brian dryly, "is modesty. Then let us proceed ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Few indeed were the people who could converse in other than their own native tongues, but Latin was spoken throughout the Roman Empire as the language of commerce and diplomacy and used only by the well-educated and highborn families, the far-traveled scholars, seafarers, and traders who needed to converse with philosophers and merchants in distant lands. Declan looked at Sinead and for an instant he allowed one of his eyelids to drop, and she responded with a small nod. That meant they both understood Latin and could follow the conversation as respectfully silent but understanding servants. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... And I prefer to trust the lengthy, sea-going experience of Captain Nolan and Black Seamus here," Brian was saying with great vehemence, "than the mouthing of a smooth-tongued fortuneteller. You seem to be ordering, in your soft voice and self-effacing manner, the captain of this ship to change course and head for shelter east of Cape Finisterre. You, who are not a seafarer and cannot even see the sky from this cabin, say that the wind is turning westerly and strengthening and is pushing the Atlantic swell higher as we speak ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It is," said the captain quietly, "because the motion of the vessel and the wind in the rigging tells us of this change in the weather ..." Beside him Seamus gave a nod of agreement,"... but I do not believe that anyone, regardless of their profession or sea-going experience or lack of it, can predict with such accuracy the wind direction and strength of a coming storm. At best weather forecasting is guesswork based on past experience. You could be right in what you say or, more likely, completely wrong. With respect, I will not lose my self-respect as a captain, and the faith of my crew, by making an arbitrary and senseless alteration in course at the behest of a magician." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian's mouth shaped a smile that had no amusement or friendship in it and said, "What game do you play with us, Ma'el? Does making others do your will against their better judgment give you satisfaction? Is it a matter of self-aggrandizement pure and simple? I ask again, what is the reason behind this stupid game of words you play?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The old man's gaze moved slowly around the table, coming to rest on Captain Nolan. "I wish to save the lives of my friends," he said, "as well as the officers and crew of this ship." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You make no mention of saving your own life." said Brian. "That is most unselfish of you." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "My life." said Ma'el, "is not at risk." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "So now you tell us that the ship and its complement are in dire peril," said Brian in an incredulous voice, "but you are not? Ridiculous! Ma'el, you wriggle like a many-times-severed worm. In desperation your words move in different directions seeking escape. Unless you consider us all to be gullible and superstitious fools, which we most decidedly are not, nothing you have yet said warrants making a change of course." He shook his head in angry impatience. "You tell us that you have true and accurate knowledge of an impending great storm, but you cannot tell us how you can know of it." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el's face remained impassive and it did not seem that he would ever reply. The long silence was broken by Sinead. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "We also know of it," she said, anger making her come to her master's defense. With a side glance at Declan she went on, "I cannot be certain whether or not he consulted it earlier this evening, but he has an enchanted map which I know shows things as they are now and, perhaps, as they will be in the future." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian looked surprised. With his eyes still on Ma'el he said, "Well, well, it seems that even your lowly but plainly well-tutored servants comprehend the language of Rome." He looked at Sinead. "My thanks to you, young woman, for speaking out in defense of your master. Please continue." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â She hesitated and waited for a slow nod from Ma'el before going on, 'The chart appeared not to be the work of a mapmaker's pen but that of an artist, a painter who used dull, smudged colors to depict a scene viewed from a tremendous height. It showed the entire land of Hibernia, its mountains, loughs, inlets, towns, and the surrounding islands as well as part of the Celtic Sea, Scotia, Cymri, southwest Britain, and a small stretch of the coast of Gaul. Small areas of the picture were obscured by soft-edged masses of gray. I did not mention it at the time because other matters concerned us but, knowing our position on the map at the time, when I looked in the direction where one of these gray areas should have been, I saw only wisps and bubblings of high clouds." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Her face took on the expression of one who does not fully believe her own words as she ended, "I formed the opinion that the map was a picture seen from a great height, from a very great height indeed, above those clouds." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "My thanks again," said Brian. "You speak clearly of what you saw, or perhaps thought you saw but, with respect, you may have been willingly misguided by one you trust ..." He turned his attention to Ma'el. "Old man, we would know more about this enchanted chart of yours, but not described in words. We would see it for ourselves." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I would have preferred that none but my close friends be privy to this secret," said Ma'el, drawing the flat, gray square that Declan had seen him use at the beginning of their journey. "But it seems that Brian and the officers of this ship have much in common with Thomas, the doubting apostle of the Christus, and will not believe my words without physical proof." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â While he was speaking, Sinead leaned across the table to move aside the platters, eating utensils, and goblets so that the middle was clear when Ma'el placed the small gray square at its precise center and gave it three sharp taps with one finger. There was a muttered exclamation from Brian, then nothing but ship sounds as the map slowly unfolded itself. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "But, but Hibernia is smaller," Declan burst out, leaning across the table, "and the upper half is covered by that white stuff. It shows Scotia, Cymri, and all of Britain as well as parts of the nearby coast of Gaul, and much more of the Atlantic. This is a different map." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Be silent,'* said the captain in a voice that needed no volume to gain instant obedience. "Ma'el, this is a strange map indeed, the like of which I have never seen before. From my own seafaring experience, which you may believe is considerable, the outlines and contours of the land masses appear to be both indistinct yet accurate. But this, and this ..." his finger pointed at two areas of ocean, "... What is it that I see here? Please do not try to confuse me with words. Let your description be detailed and precise." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el held the captain's eyes for a long moment before he replied, "Very well, Captain, if that is how you wish it. You are seeing a picture of events that are taking place as we speak, viewed from a space satellite in geo-stationary orbit high above this world's atmosphere. The image has been enhanced because of the reduced level of light from the moon and it is blurred because of distance, atmospheric haze, and clouds associated with a rapidly developing low-pressure cyclonic weather system that you see just here ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He pointed to the area of ocean west of Gaul where it seemed that the ghostly figures of two fat, bulbous worms were frozen into stillness in the act of curling around each other and chasing each other's tails. His hand moved down the picture and opened in a more inclusive gesture. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... The large, cloudless area you see," he went on, "is the anticyclonic or high-pressure system which has given us clear skies over the past few days and which, regrettably, is filling and decaying toward the northeast. But it is the deepening cyclone that most concerns us ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Wait, wait!" said Brian loudly. "These are nonsense words, the language of Babel. This is more trickery. Captain, ignore the babblings of this old fool." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You asked for a full and precise explanation, Captain," Ma'el said, "and that is what I am giving you. Even though I am speaking them clearly, many of my words are without meaning to you, but that is because it will be many, many of your years before you and your people will learn how to use them, and the events and objects to which they will one day apply ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Captain," Brian broke in again. "I see you weakening. Consider your reputation and ignore this charlatan. These are the ravings of a mind rotted with poppy juice or worse. I strongly advise that you land him and his party in Gaul and be rid of him before he can ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el raised his other hand and made a slow, complicated gesture in the air before him. Brian continued speaking, but it was as if he had been surrounded by a wall of silence, because none of his words were being heard, although it was obvious from his expression that he could still hear the others around him. The captain and Seamus stared at the old man, surprise, uncertainty, and a growing respect in their eyes. But whether they were respecting him as a magician for silencing his interrupter or as a foreteller of storms, Declan could not say. Sean, or Sinead, he corrected himself, had the wide-eyed and trusting look of a child. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â â?¢ "I cannot foretell the exact path of the storm," Ma'el resumed, "only that it will travel quickly through southern Britain and Gaul causing much havoc in its path. The effect on us will be an increasing northwesterly wind that will veer north, gaining further strength and pushing up mountainous waves as it moves until it blows us straight onto the coast of northern Iberia where your ship will certainly founder. That is why you must make all possible speed to seek the sheltering coastline south of Finisterre." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Captain Nolan stared down at the map for a long moment, his brows drawn down and lower lip trapped under his teeth in indecision. Seamus was staring at his superior, also awaiting that decision. Brian, no longer trying to talk, was growing redder of face as if he was forcing himself to a great effort of strength, but it seemed that the wall of silence around him was also restricting his physical movements. Finally the captain spoke. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I have experience of how sudden and with what violence these winter storms can strike," he said doubtfully, "but never before have I seen their workings explained and shown thus. That is, if it is a true explanation ... But wait. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Those twisting clouds, the object you called a low-pressure system, has altered. 1 could swear that the image has changed in subtle details from the one you first showed us. It, it seems to be moving!" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It is indeed moving," said Ma'el, "because it is a picture of events that are happening as we speak. Please observe. We will look at the area more closely." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He tapped the corner of the map several times in a measured but irregular fashion with one finger. Everyone at the table drew in their breaths sharply, although, where Brian was concerned the sound he made remained inaudible, as the spiral of clouds expanded to fill the entire map. Plainly they could see the great northwestern peninsula of Gaul far astern and a fat finger of cloud curling down to obscure it. The captain swore, but too softly for any of them to hear the name of the god he invoked. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "1 don't know what you're doing or how you are doing it," he said, raising his eyes from the map to Ma'el's face, "and I do not comprehend your strange words. In the future stories may be told about my gullibility, and of how I was led into stupidity by a smooth-tongued trickster, but no matter. Against all sense and reason I shall act on your advice Seamus!" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Captain?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Change course to west by southwest," said the captain, his eyes still on the map. "From what I see here it is clear that we must round Cape Finisterre by mid-day tomorrow. Set all sails commensurate with the strengthening wind and have the oars manned in relays throughout the night. At once, Seamus, if you please. The rest of you may go." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Wait, Captain," said Brian, making himself heard for the first time since the old man's spell had silenced him, "and be careful. This man is a powerful wizard, I freely admit that now, with my apologies for earlier disbelieving him. He held me motionless while my loudest words fell silently from my lips. But this moving map is an impossibility! He is ensorceling our minds, making us imagine and see moving pictures which are not there. We saw him take the map from an inner pocket of his cloak and, by some trick of the hand, make it unfold itself, so it must be made from the thinnest of vellum. Look here ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He grasped the edge of the map, lifted it from the table and tried to refold it before letting it fall again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... It, it won't bend," he went on in a disbelieving voice as he stared at his fingers, one of which was showing traces of blood. "It's as stiff and hard as a plank of wood and, and the edges are sharp." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He broke off to give the old man a confused look. Ma'el tapped the map, put it back inside his cloak when it had refolded itself, then nodded to the captain before he turned to follow Seamus out of the cabin. Sinead leaned across the table to take Brian's unresisting hand in her own. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The cut is clean-edged and shallow," she said in the impersonal healer's voice that Declan knew so well, "and nothing for you to concern yourself about. Wrap it in a firm, washed binding and by tomorrow it will have knitted together and healed." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â She released the hand and followed Ma'el from the cabin. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Before he did the same, Declan heard Captain Nolan laugh quietly and say to Brian, "By tomorrow, old friend, I fear you will have more to worry about than a cut finger." CHAPTER ELEVEN Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â By first light next day the Atlantic rollers were marching across their beam like a procession of round-topped mountain ranges, their dark gray valleys filled with increasing frequency by spray blown by a wind that made the rigging sing and struck soft, muffled blows against the upperworks and deck cargo. The ship's rolling and pitching was continuous, but over the past three days Declan had become enough of a seafarer for the motion to make him feel worried but not sick. When one of the squalls blew past, briefly hiding the rising sun, the thunderous rattling of rain or hail on the decks made it difficult to talk or, at times, even to think. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sinead and Declan were crouched in the lee of Ma'el's wagon, rather than spending the time in their dark and leaking deck shelters, while the worst of the weather blew over and past them. She was wearing, as was he, the long, thick, cloak, high boots, helmet, and oiled skins supplied by the venerable Padraig of Cashel a scant two weeks earlier and, apart from her rain-streaked face she, too, seemed to be warm and dry in them. But in spite of the fact that Ma'el was inside his wagon, Brian was sheltering in the ship's only passenger accommodation, and its officers and men were too busy working the ship to spend time on the idle chatter of nonseafarers, she did not seem disposed to help pass the stormy monotony of the day ahead by talking to him. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was not that Declan wanted to talk to her. He was still angry over the way she had concealed the fact that she was a female from him, and particularly for the deep, personal insult implied in the reason she had given for concealing it. He looked at the thin, serious, rain-beaded face and wondered if there were dark thoughts going through her mind, thoughts, perhaps, that she would prefer not to be thinking so that she might welcome a change of subject. He waited until the latest rain cloud had cleared the sun and the turbulent ocean shone dark green rather than gray, and tried again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It is close," Declan shouted as he raised a hand to point out past the port bow where the dark, frowning outlines of Finisterre rose from the sea, "but it looks to be coming no closer." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When she did not reply at once, he began to wonder if he had sounded too angry. The truth was that he was angry, and it was difficult to hide the feeling when one was shouting at the object of one's anger. But when she did shout her reply, Sinead's words were banal and voiced only in tones of loud disinterest. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "A watched pot," she said, "never boils." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Another squall covered and then cleared the sun, sweeping the ship with rain that was more than half snow and leaving the windward edges of the masts and rigging outlined in white. Declan maintained an angry silence and neither looked at nor spoke to her, but when Seamus was passing them on his way aft to the captain, he grasped the lieutenant's arm. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "What is it?" the other said, his voice loud and harsh with impatience. "I have no time to stop for idle talk." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "And I have nothing to do," Declan shouted back. He pointed again at the dark mass of the land ahead with the waves breaking at its base like churning milk. "Suddenly it is coming very close. Can you use another oar?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Seamus showed his crooked white teeth. "It is and we can," he said. "Follow me." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The ship's Ionadacht moved along the heaving deck as quickly and surely as if it had been a Roman paved road, while Declan grabbed at the bulwarks on one side and any other piece of rigging or structure inboard that looked strong enough to steady him. When he caught up to the other, Seamus had untied and was holding up a section of the weather shelter that had been rigged along the vessel's waist amidships, while he shouted to someone. One of the nearby oars swept upward until it was well clear of the sea and remained in that position while a small, wiry sailor with gray hair emerged and moved quickly in the direction of the crew accommodation forward. Impatiently Seamus waved Declan inside the shelter, squeezed in after him. and quickly secured its fastenings before the wind could get under it and blow it away. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He felt as if he was in a long, dark, and heaving tent that smelled of sweating bodies, wet clothing, and other smells that he could not identify. The only light was coming from the vertical slits through which projected the oars and it revealed dimly the indistinct shapes of the line of oarsmen ranged in front of him. They did not seem to have breath enough for conversation, but as they bent forward from the waist and pulled back on their oar handles, many of them were grunting in unison. Seamus pointed to the space lately vacated by the old sailor. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Sit on the deck, there," he shouted above the sound of the rain and spray that was rattling against the shelter. "Bunch your cloak under you if you have a bony rump or are afraid of getting a deck splinter in it. Place both feet against the blocks in front of you and brace your legs as you pull. Try not to kick a hole or get a foot entangled in that roll of defense netting running along the side. It will take enough damage from a would-be boarding party without adding to it ourselves. But first, free your oar by removing that retaining loop around its handle which is holding it clear of the water ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Apart from the notched base of the rowing slit which was the point of leverage, the entire weight of the oar was pulling the handle against the heavy leather strap. Declan struggled briefly with it and succeeded in sliding it free. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... When you've done that," Seamus went on loudly in his ear, "the oar will drop to the water of its own accord. That mark that faces you on the handle tells when the blade of your oar is in the vertical position. Keep it so at all times, for if you let your wrists rotate it will simply slide through the water to no effect. And don't waste strength by lifting the oar at the end of a stroke. In these weather conditions, when we roll to starboard it will be lifted naturally from the sea, when you will move it forward against nothing but air in readiness for the next stroke when the roll to port returns it to the water. Take the timing from the hortator's drum, and the length of your stroke from the oarsmen in front of you. If you pull too slowly you will contribute little and be a drag on their efforts, too fast and you will be trying to move the weight of the entire ship on your own with a similar lack of result. Do you understand me?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Rather than make a shouted reply, Declan decided to do what he had been told and give his answer in actions rather than words. Seamus watched him for a few moments, nodded, then left him to his work. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It had been three years since he had used an oar. On that occasion it had been while his vessel was being chased by a lumbering Roman trireme over a placid sea, but never before had he rowed during the prelude to an Atlantic storm of this severity. He had almost forgotten what unceasing, back-breaking work it was, but gradually he began to settle to it and to take his mind off protesting muscles by watching his severely limited view of the world outside. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When the ship rolled to port he saw a sky filled with wind-tattered clouds, and to starboard only the churning, gray sea, but during the moment when the view was moving from one to the other he had a glimpse of Cape Finisterre and the sea bursting in a continuous high, white curtain of spray over the rocks at its base. It was close, he thought, but was it coming any closer? The answer came when the ship veered toward it so that his field of view moved aft taking it out of his sight. They were in danger of being blown farther out to sea. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He swore loudly and long, knowing that the squall of hail that was beating against the shelter would prevent the other oarsmen from hearing him and, if they did, they would probably consider his language mild in the extreme. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Captain Nolan's intention was to round Finisterre and run south to find a bay or inlet where the enclosing land mass would diminish the force of the northerly storm. The proximity of a coastline would also ensure that the waves would not be able to build up to a height that would swamp and wreck them. But if they were to be blown past the sheltering inlets, they would certainly be lost and the promising and very interesting life he had found in the service of Ma'el would come to a premature end. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For some odd reason the thought made him feel more angry than afraid. He swore again and transferred his anger into the steady and regular pulling on his oar until the growing ache in his arm and back muscles pushed fear and anger alike to the back of his mind. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â But Declan was becoming very tired, tireder than he could ever remember being in his whole life and, with the sun obscured by hurrying storm clouds, he had no way of knowing for how long he had been pulling with his blistering hands on this stupid oar other than that it felt like a goodly fraction of eternity. By now Seamus should have ordered someone to relieve him, but more time passed with no sign of that being done. He thought of shipping his oar so that the other would see it pointing skyward and know that Declan was exhausted and in need of a relief, but everyone else on deck would also see it and know of his weakness and he did not think that he could bear the shame of that. Even so, he was about to surrender to his fatigue by sliding the oar handle into its retaining loop when the bottom edge of the weather shelter lifted to admit a blast of spray-filled wind and the roaring voice of Seamus. Declan laughed aloud, thinking that his back-breaking term on the oars had ended just before he had to embarrass himself by calling quits, but that was not to be. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was the oarsman directly in from of him who was relieved and his position taken by Brian, who received the same shouted advice that Declan had been given what seemed like an eternity earlier. Only then did Seamus turn to him with a white-fanged snarl of approval. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You have rowed strongly and well, Declan," he shouted, "and you will be relieved shortly. But before them Brian wanted a few words with you." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "For which opportunity," Brian called loudly over his shoulder, "I had to volunteer to become an accursed galley slave even though, Seamus tells me, we have rowed to the lee of land and are no longer in imminent peril of being blown out to sea, so that my sacrifice was an unnecessary one." He nodded toward the line of oarsmen in front of them. "My words to you are private. May we converse in Latin?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan returned happily to stroking his oar now that he knew his rest would not be long delayed, and shouted back, "I speak and comprehend a little, but have no fluency in it." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Then tell me when my meaning is unclear," Brian replied, interrupting his speech and twisting his head backward at the end of every pull to resume it, "and I shall use simpler words ... I am curious and would learn more about Ma'el, your master." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When Declan remained silent, the other went on. "In my time I have met many charlatans and so-called wizards ... But now I believe that I have at last met a true magician ... and in my stupidity have grievously insulted and angered him ... I would like to make my peace with this Ma'el the Magician ... But if I am to give my apology proper form and substance â?¦ I must learn more of his ways and his thoughts as well as of the full extent of his wizardry â?¦" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I am in his service but two weeks," Declan interrupted. "In that time he said nothing about himself... so in truth I, too, know nothing about him." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "But you must know something about him," Brian said, then stopped speaking to make a few strokes. He was sounding breathless as well as impatient when he went on, "Something he did or said, perhaps ... that seemed of no importance to you at the time The workings of that enchanted map of his ... would be of enormous value to the rulers of any seafaring nation in the world ... and those who obtained its secrets could find themselves wealthy and powerful indeed â?¦ The wage paid to a servant, no matter how generous, would be as nothing ... And what of the other magic devices his wagon contains?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian was talking so much as he pulled on his oar that he was almost gasping for breath. Declan would have laughed if he had not been so tired, both of rowing and of the other trying so obviously to subvert him. He pressed his teeth together and remained silent. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I find subtlety of speech difficult," the other went on, "while playing the part of a damned galley slave ... I do not suggest that you betray your new master ... I only want to know what you know ... and think about him â?¦ Speak to me, Declan ... Surely you must have wanted to delve into Ma'el's secrets when his wagon was unattended ...? Your pardon, I did not mean to suggest ... that a trusted servant like you would steal â?¦ only that you would want to satisfy your curiosity ... Have you been inside his wagon ... and what did you see?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No," Declan replied, "and nothing. Ma'el forbids entry to Sinead and myself." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He took a deep breath and went on without pause, "Once when I tried to look inside, there was an outer screen of animal hide that moved aside easily, and an inner one that looked to be the same but was as solid and immovable as a wall of stone. When I persisted, strange and frightening pictures came into my mind and so I moved back quickly." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian was silent for several strokes, then he said, "With respect, Declan, there was no stone wall ... It, and the fearful phantasms you imagined ... were but an enchantment of Ma'el's given substance by your own imaginings ... I have heard of magicians and sorcerers from the East who could work such a spell ... What if by accident you had tripped and fallen against that imaginary wall ... or thrown a stone at it...?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Enough!" said Declan, making no attempt to hide his anger as he shouted above the din of wind-driven hail rattling off the weather shelter, the slow beating of the hortator, and the other noises made by the ship and the sea. 'These are questions you should ask of Ma'el himself. To his servants he seems to be a gentle old man who is slow to anger. After your recent unmannerly behavior toward him, if he had wanted to change you into a toad he would have done so last night." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian said nothing after that and he did not look around when Seamus returned with the relief oarsman and beckoned Declan outside. He was surprised to find that many hours had passed, that daylight was fading into a stormy twilight, and that the high, sheltering cliffs looming on their port bow were checking the wind and reducing the height of the waves around them. Seamus followed him to the lee of the wagon where Sinead was sheltering and seeming not to have moved since he had last seen her. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Your Declan has done well this day," Seamus said, showing his teeth, "but he is unused to hard work. Would you be so kind, healer, as to attend to his blistered hands?" CHAPTER TWELVE Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The meal in the captain's cabin that evening was a hurried one for two reasons; the ship was rolling and pitching so violently that their platters and the food on them were continually threatening to slide onto the deck, and the captain was mentioning with increasing impatience his need to consult Ma'el's enchanted map again. Declan and Brian ate awkwardly because of the soothing ointment Sinead had smeared on their hands and the tight bindings that held it against the blisters. They did not look at or speak to each other or anyone else, and it was plain that the other was uneasy regarding the things Declan might have told the old man about their conversation while they had been on the oars together. It was Brian who spoke first in an obvious attempt to reduce the verbal damage he might have done to himself. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Ma'el, you are a unique person in my experience," he began smoothly, "and earlier today I was trying to satisfy my curiosity by asking Declan about your powers, your thoughts and your magical devices, and no doubt he has already told you about our conversation. I trust you will forgive the liberty ..." he laughed quietly, "... and that you will not think that I was trying to wrest your deepest secrets from a servant ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "My servants," the old man broke in gently, "know nothing of my deepest secrets, nor are they required to report to me everything they see, hear, do, or think. I reward them for the work they do for me, but I do not own their minds. Declan did not mention the conversation to me so it is obvious that he did not think it important. You were curious about my map?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Before Brian could find his tongue, Captain Nolan slapped the top of the table. "And I, too, am curious about your map," he said. "Not about the magical how and why it came into your possession but simply to consult it as an aid to saving your lives and my ship ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Not necessarily in that order of importance," Seamus murmured. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... Please, Ma'el," the captain ended, ignoring his first lieutenant, "tell me that you have it on your person now." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el inclined his head in affirmation, produced the map, and tapped it until it had unfolded to cover the table. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'This is a different map!" the captain burst out, excitement raising the tone of his usually deep voice. "We see only the coastline around Finisterre and nothing of Britain or Gaulâ??" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It is a closer and enlarged view of the scene you saw yesterday ..." the old man began when the captain interrupted him. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Indeed it is closer," he said. "And there is a narrow, uneven ribbon of whiteness that follows the coastline that must be, although I can scarcely believe it, the sea breaking against the cliffs. But beyond the white line there are patches and points of a pale grayness that shades into black in deeper waters. What means that? Where are we on this chart, and why do we see none of your great, slow-spinning storm clouds?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The pale grayness shows the position of rocks close to the surface," Ma'el replied, "which you will want to avoid. At the center of the map there is a small point of gray that is our position. The storm clouds cover us but the picture uses a special light which enables us to look through them." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The captain's eyes began to shine with the wonder of a small child. He said, "If what you tell me is true, and I have no reason to doubt that, with this I can navigate past the most dangerous of reefs, in the darkness of a starless and moonless night, with complete safety. But what of the storm? Does your magic tell us if or when it will abate?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sharply Ma'el tapped an area of the map again. Around the table there were grunts of surprise as the image began to shrink rapidly until the coasts of Iberia and Gaul crawled into view followed quickly by the land outlines of the whole of western Europe. The fat double spiral of their storm was again visible. It was Ma'el who spoke first. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "As I have already told you." he said, "the forecasting of weather changes depends on many things and can never be wholly accurate. I have been told that the movement of air displaced by a bird's wing on the other side of the world can, in time, contribute to major changes in the weather an untold distance away. The storm whose lower edge is covering us will, I feel sure, move northward and thence into the Arctic wastes. Two or perhaps three days will elapse before this happens. The storm will be replaced by a high-pressure continental air mass, that is a large area of dry and calmer weather, which will produce gentler but very cold winds from the northeast. This wind direction will favor you ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Yes, yes, it will," the captain broke in. "I still don't understand some of the strange words you use, old man, even though I believe them. But ..." he pointed to the tiny coastline east of Finisterre, "... I can't use this to navigate safely among inshore rocks." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el tapped the map gently and the original image returned. The captain gave a huge, relieved sigh. Brian, who had never taken his eyes off the map since Ma'el had begun speaking, licked his lips. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Ma'el," he said, nodding toward the chart, "as I mentioned to Declan earlier, my principals in the Kingdoms of Tirconnel and Dalriada and, indeed, the ruler of any other seafaring nation, would reward you handsomely if you were to provide them with such maps. This is a secret more valuable than any I have ever uncovered in my years of spying. If you were to reveal the secret of the workings of such maps, you could have wealth beyond your wildest dreams." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Regrettably," Ma'el replied with a gentle shake of his head, "there is but one map and only I know how to use it." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Captain Nolan exchanged looks with his lieutenant, then they both stared hard at Brian. "In that case," said the captain, "we must ensure that no harm of any kind comes to our magician navigator, either to his person or his property, for the remainder of this voyage. Do you take my meaning, Brian, old friend?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For a moment Brian looked uncomfortable, then he nodded but made no other reply. Seamus showed all of his crooked teeth in a wide smile. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Of course he does, Captain," he said, then went on in a sardonic voice, "Like us he knows nothing about our magician navigator who, for all we know, may already be rich beyond the dreams of avarice." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Captain Nolan smiled and in a moment their heads and that of Ma'el were again bent over the map. Brian watched the three of them without a word or an expression of any kind on his face until the conference was over and the captain was wishing his passengers a comfortable night. He also asked if he could retain the map overnight so as to help him steer a safe course among the reefs that stretched out from the base of the passing cliffs, and Ma'el surprised everyone by giving his permission. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â While Declan was swaying and rolling about in his hammock and listening to the rain beating against the tightly stretched skins of the shelter, the expressions and conversation he had seen and heard around the captain's table came back to him. Brian, he thought, was easy talking, slippery, and untrustworthy and should be watched closely but not, he was sure, the other two. It was a very strange thought indeed, but just as the fatigue of stroking oar all day drew him into sleep, he wondered if in the dour captain and his ugly, straight-talking first officer Ma'el had found himself two new servants. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â By the next morning the rain had stopped and the sun showed from time to time between scudding clouds. With the aid of Ma'el's chart, the captain guided the ship among the sunken rocks in safety under the high cliffs that sheltered them from a wind that howled far overhead and left them to contend with little more than a stiff breeze. They followed the twisting coastline, using relays of oarsmen or sails when their course made the wind direction favorable, towards a bay that they expected to reach before nightfall and where they would be able to anchor and rest their tiring seamen. Declan was greatly relieved when Seamus, showing his teeth in a particularly wide, snarling smile, said that their situation was neither dangerous nor urgent so that the passengers need not volunteer to row. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el spent most of the day aft in with the captain, where he was instructing the other in the use of the magic chart to navigate the shallows. Sinead remained outside her shelter and seemed disposed to talk to Declan, until he made the mistake of calling her "boy" which made her angry. When he explained in a low voice that lacked all semblance of an apology that there were seamen within hearing and did she want everyone on the ship to know that she was a young woman, she became even angrier and stopped speaking to him altogether. When Brian appeared and began talking to her in his easy, amusing fashion and making her laugh from time to time, Declan spent the rest of the day feeling even angrier without knowing why. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â They were rounding a tall headland whose upper slopes were still lit by the setting sun when he saw movement and called to Seamus, who came to stand behind him so as to follow the direction of his pointing finger. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Two, no, three men," said the Ionadacht. "You have good eyes, Declan. I must tell the captain about this without delay. But the light is fading. Keep watching them for as long as you can." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'That should be easy," he replied, shading his eyes and squinting at them through half-closed lids. "I think they're building a fire." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Already on the move, Seamus turned his head around to shout, "I was afraid of that." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He continued to watch the figures around the tiny, flickering point of orange light that grew brighter in the deepening twilight while the ship rounded the headland to drop anchor in a small bay whose narrow beach showed dark gray against the blackness inland. Another and larger fire was being kindled on the sand as he watched. One of the seamen came to ask that Sinead, Brian, and himself go to the captain's cabin at once. Ma'el and the captain were waiting for them there, but as soon as Declan entered he knew that tonight they were not being invited to dine. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "While we have the opportunity to talk undisturbed," the captain began without preamble, "I intend to discuss and assign your fighting positions and duties ..." he glanced at Sinead "... or lack of them during the coming attack. Declan, Seamus tells me you have good eyes. Did you see anyone around or close to the large fire on the beach?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Yes, Captain," he replied. "At first I saw upward of fifteen, maybe twenty men carrying fuel and heaping it onto the fire, then all of them withdrew into the surrounding darkness. I thought that strange but ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Your pardon, Captain," Ma'el broke in gently. "I am inexperienced in these matters as you know, but is it not possible that the fires on the headland and beach were lit as acts of friendship to guide us into a safe anchorage?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Seamus gave a scornful laugh that was silenced with a look from his superior officer. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "That is possible, Ma'el," the captain went on, striving to put patience into his voice and failing, "but it is much more likely that they are wreckers and robbers, or worse. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Having failed to lure us onto the submerged rocks around the entrance to the bay, thanks to your magic map, they will now try to capture the ship instead of pillaging the wreckage that would have washed ashore of its valuables, including any survivors who could be sold as slaves ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el held up a hand and broke in gently. "You said that they might be wreckers and robbers, or worse. What is your meaning of worse?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The captain nodded. 'That unnecessarily large and unattended fire on the beach," he said, "and the speed with which it was built and kindled after the first signal fire on the headland was lit, suggests a situation where many persons are acting rapidly and in concert. It is, I feel sure, a tactic aimed at attracting our eyes to the flames and thereby reducing our night vision while an attack takes place out of the darkness on our flanks. If I am right, and I usually am in these matters, rather than a rabble of badly armed robbers and wreckers we will be facing an attack by well-disciplined Roman soldiery. Seamus." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Captain." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "We may have little time to prepare," he went on quickly, "so many things must be done at once. Ship the oars all but for two on each side. Man these with two men each and use them with blades level to sweep the air at head height above an attacking craft, or to jab a hole in its hull if it is small and skin-covered. Raise the nets and make them loose enough to hamper rather than aid attacking boarders. Ready the arbalest, but warn that it must not be used until an enemy craft can be clearly seen close by, and certainly not if one of our own crew is standing in the way. If a target becomes visible and it should be a skin-covered coracle or curragh, aim for the waterline. It is better to sink the craft and force the weaker swimmers to discard their weapons than to waste such a heavy bolt to spear one man. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The wind and sea are making noise enough to hide ordinary conversation," he continued, "but during the fighting warn everyone to speak softly and continuously to each other in Gaelic. This will aid the identification of friend from foe in the darkness. The Roman soldiers are recruited mostly from peasant stock and speak nothing but their native language, so anyone who talks Latin will be an enemy and should be killed without hesitation. No lights are to be shown by us at any time or for any reason. In case some of the attacking craft lose sight of us, we don't want to show them our position." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Seamus nodded and was turning to leave when the captain raised a restraining hand. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Wait," he said, then looking straight at Ma'el he went on, "Can we expect any magical assistance during this endeavor?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el shook his head slowly. "I can provide you with a few moments of bright light," he said, "but that would be unhelpful because you say that darkness is necessary to your defense. Regrettably, I am forbidden from killing or using violence on any other person ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Who by?" Brian interrupted sharply, a mixture of impatience and fear coloring his voice. "A magician greater than you are?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el's features were without expression but there seemed to be a hurt in his large eyes as he said, "Once in the past I interfered and the result was many, many deaths of innocent people. I will not do so again." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan cleared his throat and said quietly, 'There was the leader of the robbers who attacked your wagon, and he died. With respect, the situation here is fraught with much greater risk." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It was you, not I, who killed him," said Ma'el quietly. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The captain shook his head angrily. "This is not the time for a religious or philosophical debate," he said, "and after all that Ma'el has already done for us I cannot insist that he perform miracles. Seamus, you know what has to be done. Do it. The rest of you, apart from Ma'el and the healer, will do as I say ..." CHAPTER THIRTEEN From Ma'el Report. Day 112,454 ... Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â I am faced with a decision that is also a serious temptation. My two servants, the complement of this ship, and the vessel itself will perish in the attack to come if I do not use my advanced technology, or as they would see it, a blatant display of wizardry, to save them. But again I remind myself of my self-imposed promise never to bring about the deaths of any of these subjects under investigation, and must refrain from interfering when groups of them are, as now, trying to kill each other. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "But the thought of losing two promising servants causes me feelings of irritation and with it a minor level of grief because, although they are little more than laboratory subjects, they are beings for whom I have developed a liking. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I have decided not to vacate the ship with my traveling habitat and equipment until the last possible moment, in case a miracle not of my making should occur to save them ..." - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el had moved inside his wagon where he had insisted to everyone that he would be safe; Sinead had been placed in the lee of the vehicle and wrapped loosely in oiled skins to resemble an untidy piece of deck cargo, with instructions to be still and silent, and Brian and Declan had been assigned to guard the stern with whomever could be spared to help them when the attack would develop. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It required a great effort of will for Declan to look only to seaward and into the darkness that hid the projecting reefs growing like rocky horns from each side of the bay. To add to his difficulty, their ship was swinging at anchor so that there were times when the fire and the illuminated area of beach began creeping into the corner of his eye and threatening to dazzle him. Beside him neither the man on the tiller nor Brian reported seeing anything, and he wondered if the beach fire was giving enough light for the attacking craft, which would also contain men with sharp eyes, to see them. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â All around him there was total darkness that was broken only by the sounds of the sea, the high wind, the ship, and the soft, occasional voices of the seamen as they spoke their names to each other. Beside him Brian was speaking softly and continuously as he recited an endless, bawdy poem that he had learned somewhere on his travels. The helmsman was appreciating it but Declan felt sure that it was not one that Sinead should hear. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He continued to stare into the darkness but to see only a mental image of her lying on the deck under the wagon like a forgotten sack of foodstuffs, cold, uncomfortable, but safe, unless this coming engagement were to go the wrong way, whereupon the mind pictures of what would happen to her became much worse. He was so busy trying to push those pictures out of his mind that he almost missed hearing the new sound, the thump and scraping noises of a boat making intermittent contact with the stern. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Quickly he felt for Brian in the darkness beside him, found his arm, and then moved his fingers down until he found the other's wrist. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Brian," he said quickly. "Grip my belt at the back and hold it firmly. I'm going to lean far over the rail." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He was already raising his axe high in the air and leaning forward into the blackness while Brian fumbled and took a tight hold on his belt. Before he let the weapon fall in a wide, circular, two-handed sweep he remembered to twist the shaft so that the heavy blade would not strike edge-on. Captain Nolan would not be pleased with him if he was to damage the ship's rudder post. But he hit someone. There was a grunt of pain followed by the heavy splash of a body going into the water. He allowed the weight of the axe head to sweep upward and then down into another swing. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â This time the blade glanced off something but otherwise raised only a great splash of water. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Quickly," he called over his shoulder, "let me go further out." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He heard Brian's drop to the deck and felt the other's two-handed grip around his belt and continued to swing with the axe blade forward. This time it met more than water. There was a grunt of pain, the sound of splintering wickerwork and the tearing of covering skins followed by the sound of splashing and cries of alarm. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Pull me back," he shouted. When this was done he laughed and added, "I hit one of them, and I think I knocked in the side of their boat." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Good," said Brian. There was a fumbling and scraping against the deck as he retrieved his pike in the darkness. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Not good," said the helmsman in a low, disapproving voice. "If you've sunk their craft they will be angry, and will have nowhere to go except onto this one. Guard yourselves and speak your names. Tomas, Tomas, Tomas." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian and Declan did so as they both moved a few paces to each side of him, and he heard their pikes tap sharply against the stern rail as they sought in the darkness for an aiming level for the blind thrusts they would shortly be making against the boarders. Declan did the same with the shaft of his long-axe. He had decided to use it like a heavy spear and jab rather than swing with it. That would render it less effective as a weapon but it would also reduce the risk of him accidentally killing his two companions. Every few seconds he spoke his name and jabbed into the darkness above the rail, without striking anything but the empty air. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â From what seemed like one or two paces to his right there came the betraying sounds of leather scraping against wood and the scuffling of a heavy body scrambling over the rail. He was drawing back his axe for a jabbing thrust at the sounds when there was a sudden scream of pain, the splash of someone falling into the sea, and a burst of swearing in Brian's voice. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Are you wounded?" said Declan, continuing his thrust into empty darkness and drawing back to make another. "Where, and how badly?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No," said Brian, swearing again. He went on quickly, "I stuck one of them, in the face or arm, I think, because I felt no armor. But he grabbed my pike and took it when he went over the side. What the hell do I do now I've lost my bloody weapon?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Reach out your arm to me," said Declan, changing to a one-handed grip on his axe shaft and reaching out toward the voice until he encountered Brian's arm. He gripped it loosely, slid his hand down to the wrist of the other's hand then moved it to the handle of his gladius. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Use that." he said. "Jab, don't swing it. You'll have to fight closer, it's shorter than a pike but does more damage. If you lose it over the side I'll kill you myself." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Go ro mait agat..." the other began, but his thanks in Gaelic were interrupted by the sound of heavy feet jumping onto the deck all around them, and suddenly Brian was speaking Latin. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Careful, fool!" he growled in an angry undertone. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Strike to your left, soldier, you all but killed your own officer!" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I'm sorry, sir," another voice began in Latin, but it ended with the soft, soggy thump of a blade driving into flesh, a high-pitched grunt of pain and the sound of a body falling to the deck followed by the voice of Brian again speaking in Gaelic. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I'm sorry," he muttered in a voice devoid of sorrow, "that pretense was most dishonorable. But then, I'm a diplomat, not a warrior. My tongue is supposed to be my strongest weapon." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Utterly dishonorable, and effective," said Declan, laughing softly. "But be careful in its use lest you be mistakenly slain as a Roman ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He broke off because more feet were landing on the deck in front and to one side of him. Brian and the helmsman were still softly speaking their names out of the darkness. He moved backward a pace to a distance where he could swing rather than jab with his long-axe without endangering his friends. He went down on one knee, the better to avoid the attackers' body-level stabs and slashes, as he made the first wide, circular swing. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan felt a double shock run up the handle to his wrists and heard a scream as the heavy blade took someone's legs from under them, but the next swing met only empty air. Still keeping low, he moved forward and swung again. This time the handle was nearly jarred loose in his grasp as the outer point of the blade tore through leather and underlying flesh and bone of a head or chest, and that man crashed to the deck without making a sound. He was twisting the axehead free, a small part of his mind trying not to think about the terrible wound it had made, when suddenly he was able to see everything that was happening. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The wind had cleared a small area of sky that contained a few stars and a thin sliver of crescent moon. There was just enough light to show Brian frantically waving his gla-dius two-handed at an attacker while he tried desperately to fend off the thrusts of the other's spear, while beyond them the helmsman, Tomas, who was limping and at times hopping on one leg, was engaging another Roman with a shortened pike the first few inches of whose point had presumably been left in someone else. Declan shifted his grip and raised his weapon high before swinging it down to strike with the flat of the blade like a massive club onto the top of the first Roman's helmet. The man dropped to the deck as if he had no bones in his legs. Brian laughed his thanks and turned to attack the helmsman's opponent in the flank, and a moment later the Roman went down. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see two heads, separated from each other by about three paces, appearing above the stern rail. He swung the axe in a wide circle and struck hard at the first one. There was the sound of a body splashing into the sea, although he could not be sure if the head was still attached to it. When the second boarder saw what had happened to his companion, he threw his sword awkwardly at Declan and pushed himself backward to fall into his boat. For the moment the deck was clear of attackers, at least living ones. Tomas pointed at the fallen bodies. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Over the side," he said. "We don't want to trip over them in the dark. I can't help you. A leg wound." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Quickly Brian retrieved the attackers' weapons, passed a spear to Tomas, and returned Declan's gladius because he now had one of his own. Together they lifted the bodies by their legs and shoulders and swung them high over the rail, hearing two splashes and then a splintering sound of one of them crashing down onto a boat. As he paused a moment to look around, from amidships came the loud twang and thump of the arbalest which now had moonlit targets at which to aim. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Too many targets by far. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan swore as he glimpsed upward of twenty craft, three of them large and loaded down with men and the rest small dugouts or skin-covered curraghs bearing three or four each. Now that they could see their quarry, the men in the boats were cheering, and those in the bows were whirling grappling hooks on long hemp lines around their heads to launch them slingshot-fashion at the ship. A few of the hooks clattered on board and found purchase on deck projections, but most of them became entangled in the antiboarding nets, tearing and pulling them down as the lines were pulled in. The boarders from the few craft that had been able to find them in the dark must have been repelled, although a few of them still hung from the nets like fat, black flies caught in a spider web. Suddenly the commanding voice of Captain Nolan rose above the enemy shouting, speaking aloud the very thought that was in De-clan's mind. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Seamus," he called, "they are too many for us and we'll be over-run within moments. Raise the anchor and set the foresail. All portside oarsmen who can get blades in the water, pull and bring her around. Helmsman, head for the open sea and let the wind take her ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â His words were interrupted by the twang of another arbalest bolt being fired, followed by a small outcry from the target boat as it struck, and the rest of his words were spoken to someone close by him and too quietly for Declan to hear them. Not so the words of Tomas. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'Something is fouling the bloody rudder," he said. "Declan, see if you can clear it. Brian, help me here." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â While Tomas and Brian put their shoulder to the tiller and pushed with no effect, Declan moved quickly to bend double over the rail where he looked along the length of the rudder. The dim moonlight was shadowed by the stern overhang so that he could sense movement but saw only a large, indistinct mass that was probably a boat, and a thin line of lighter material joining the rudder with the ship's stern timbers. He jabbed at it with the head of his axe and heard the clink of metal. It might be a short sword with the hilt removed, he thought, that was being used to wedge the rudder immobile. He gripped the shaft of his axe in both hands and jabbed downward even harder and felt the metal obstruction bend and fall away. The rudder was moving freely again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan was about to straighten up when he felt two things happening in the same moment: hands grasping at the shaft of his axe and a sudden, glancing blow striking the side of his leather helmet, delivered by what felt like a spear or sword point and all but knocking it from his head. He jerked the long-axe free, the only clear thought in his mind the saving of his best weapon, and staggered back with lights that were in his mind rather than in front of his eyes bursting all around him. Still dazed, he leaned against the tiller to steady himself. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "There's no need to do that, Declan," said Tomas, "it's working well again. But standing out to sea in this storm beyond the shelter of the bay is risky. Perhaps the captain is hoping that the small craft trailing astern will founder in the high waves before we do, but I very much doubt that." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I do like an optimist," said Brian dryly, then, "Declan, are you all right?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He shook his head vigorously in an attempt to clear it rather than as an answer, and said, "Yes." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The combination of oars and rudder were bringing the ship around so that the wind was striking the foresail edge-on, making it flap loudly and ripple like a flag in a gale, then suddenly it began to fill. Underfoot the deck motion was changing as the vessel began to surge forward, but slowly because of the cluster of smaller craft that had attached or were still attaching themselves to her with thrown grappling hooks. With their shallow draft the high wind behind the foresail should have been taking them over the waves at speed, but instead they were moving as sluggishly as an overloaded barge. Suddenly, above the ringing in his ears he heard the high, clear voice of Sinead and the quieter and somehow clearer one of Ma'el calling out to the captain, but the wind shredded the words of their meaning. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â A grappling hook clattered onto the deck at Declan's feet. Before it could find a hold on the deck structure he stooped quickly and threw it back into the sea. The effort made him so dizzy that he had to use the shaft of his axe to steady himself. On the rail to his right two pairs of hands were visible, then they disappeared into total darkness as a cloud blew across the sickle moon. Through the persistent buzzing in his ears he heard the sound of feet landing on the deck. Tomas and Brian began saying their names again to give their positions and identities in the blackness. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan did the same as he moved a safe distance away from them and took a double grip on the lower end of his axe shaft. Then slowly at first but picking up speed he began spinning around on his heels and toes with the long-axe held at full extension. He still felt dizzy but in the darkness he could not know if or when he was falling, and somehow he was able to remain erect. His idea was that if he could see nothing then he would try to hit everything that came within range, and hit it hard. Three times he felt the axehead catch and tear against something, probably clothing or leather armor, and move on. He judged them to be wounding rather than lethal blows. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian and Tomas were still alive because he could hear them saying their names, but suddenly two things happened at once. Declan overbalanced and fell heavily onto his side and the other two's voices were drowned out by the stentorian tones of the captain. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Men, hear and believe my words!" he shouted. "One of our passengers is a great wizard. He is about to conjure up a creature monstrous and terrible beyond belief to aid us in our time of need. But fear not, for he promises you that it will do no harm to any member of our crew ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Behind Declan a light like that of a great, blue sun had come into being, a light that he had seen once before during the robber attack in the clearing. So Ma'el had broken the solemn promise he had made to himself and had decided to help slay their attackers. Declan was too relieved to feel disappointment, but he doubted that the old man's terrible and magical beast would come soon enough to save his own life. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â There were five or six Romans around him, none of them further than three paces distant, and two with weapons raised to strike. Declan tried to bring up his heavy axe, knowing that he could not do so in time. But the expected blows did not come. Instead the men were looking past him, their mouths wide open. One of them dropped his weapon to the deck, cried out in fear, turned and jumped over the stern into the sea. The others followed, including those who had been attacking Brian and Tomas. He heard them shouting to the other craft as they jumped back into their own boats or the water alongside. By the time he had climbed to his feet, Ma'el's bright blue light had died, but the darkness was not complete because the moon had cleared the clouds again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It gave enough light for him to see that the ship was clear of boarders, the ropes attached to the grappling hooks had been released so that they trailed loose in the water, and the attacking craft were being rowed hurriedly back toward the beach while their frightened crews shouted fearfully to each other. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "What the ..." said Declan, searching his aching brain for an oath colorful enough to suit the occasion without finding it, "What happened?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Like you," said Brian, laughing, "we were too busy looking aft to see ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "That was well done, men, all of you," the voice of the captain broke in. "It was a close-fought thing even with the magical intervention. Seamus! Lower the foresail. All men able to row, man the oars. Helmsman, steer us back to the weather shelter of the bay and drop anchor." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He broke off to laugh loudly and long before going on, "Set a double watch to keep an eye on the Romans, but I very much doubt that they will trouble us again this night." CHAPTER FOURTEEN From Ma'el Report. Day 112,455 ... Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was not necessary to slay any Earth person. On the ship their survival was due to the intervention of minor and nonviolent Taelon science in conjunction with human ingenuity. It begins to concern me that such a high level of intuitive intelligence is available to a species with only the rudiments of technical education or support. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'This incident illustrates my difficulty in continuing to treat these people merely as subjects for investigation ..." - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â By first light the storm had abated to a stiff breeze and they had resumed the voyage because Ma'el, in his clear if partly incomprehensible words, had informed the captain that the troublesome low had moved north into Skandia and was being replaced by a high-pressure system that was deepening over the continental land mass, and that this would ensure favorable winds and weather over the ensuing four or five days. But the emotional weather in and around the shelters of Declan and Sinead continued rough, and its far from calm storm center was the healer. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sinead had been tending the previous night's wounded without pause during the hours of daylight, so that she was both tired and short-tempered. She insisted, and her words were backed up gently by Ma'el, that Declan remain in his shelter instead of stumbling about the deck like a drunken man and perhaps falling over the side, that he rest as much as possible but not fall asleep in case he went into a coma and did not wake again, and that the compress she had given him for the enormous lump on his head must be kept wetted even if the cold water did run down his neck. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When he objected she said that last night's blow to the head might have permanently addled his brain, and that rest and the reduction of the swelling was the only treatment she knew short of opening his head, a procedure which she had never attempted before. She asked Brian to relieve Declan's boredom and to ensure that he remained awake. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â But Brian wanted only to talk about the fearsome monster conjured by Ma'el. He was being eaten alive by his own curiosity, he said, but the healer and everyone he had asked about the magical beast would not talk about it. With the crew numbers reduced by wounded, they had said that they were too busy with other duties and that Seamus would have hard words or even harder fists for them if they stopped for idle chatter. Declan had replied truthfully that he, too, had seen nothing. In the end Brian changed the subject to that of Ma'el himself, seeking out scraps of information about the old man which, because of Declan's possibly addled wits, he might be able to pry loose. In the event he was unsuccessful because Declan had no new information to give him. But Brian at least made the hours pass quickly until Sinead arrived to say that it was time to join the captain. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â It was a quiet and hurried meal because there was only one subject that Captain Nolan and Seamus wanted to discuss, but good manners forbade them from bringing it up over food. When the platters were cleared away, the captain said, "Healer, what of our wounded?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Apart from general bruising and scrapes that are of little consequence," Sinead replied in a voice self-assured beyond her tender years, "there are seven of which I shall speak in the reverse order of their severity. First there is Declan, who sustained a heavy blow to his head which could well have led to a coma and death or at least to seriously addled wits. Fortunately he is able to converse, has not fallen asleep and his wits do not seem to be addled, at least..." she smiled "... no more than is usual with him. If or when required, he is able to take an oar ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Thank you, healer," said Declan in an angry undertone. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... There are four others, each of whom have taken two or three shallow cuts or stabs," she went on, ignoring him. "All of the wounds are clean and, if the men are rested, should heal in a few days. The injury to the sixth one, Tomas the helmsman, is more serious." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "He took a deep stab wound to the calf muscle of the left leg," she went on, "which is not clean. In spite of applying a poultice to draw out impure substances, by the end of the day the lower leg and foot had become swollen and inflamed. Until now I've never seen a wound turn bad so quickly." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I have," said the captain, his voice quiet but very, very angry. "It is caused by the weapon of a cowardly and vindictive enemy who has dipped the point in cow or pig dung so that the smallest of wounds will lead to poisoning and death. What are you doing for Tomas, and can you save him?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "A very tight cord has been tied just above the knee," she replied, "which should cut off the flow of poisoned blood into his upper leg and body for a time. This has also stopped the flow of blood to the lower leg, so that the early stages of corruption are already taking place. The affected limb will have to be removed as soon as possible from about a hand's width above the knee. I have no experience of cutting. My healing is concerned mostly with the use of medicines and poultices, but I watched when my father had to cut off a limb ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The captain held up a hand. "Then you know more about it than we do," he said. "What instruments will you need?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan watched Sinead hesitate for a moment before visibly coming to a decision. She tapped the table with a small fist and said, "I'll need this table, at least two more lanterns to light it, enough rope, and the help of three strong men. They should include you, Captain, as his superior officer to help him steady his mind, and Brian and Declan to hold Wm motionless and help me when needed. For the patient's sake he should be rendered as insensible as possible while we are working." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "That means two or three flagons of my best wine," said Brian softly. "Don't worry, healer, he'll have them. But I'm not sure I can help you. I abhor the sight of blood and may sicken." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "For the wine, thank you," she said, then went on impatiently, "but it will not be your blood that is flowing so try to control your feelings. I will need many jugs of water. They must be clean salt water taken from the sea rather than the drinking casks which sometimes have mites swimming in them. Also tools from the ship's carpenter, a few of his keenest knives and a handsaw that is sharp. The blades, and our hands, must be thoroughly cleansed with water and then alcohol that is stronger than wine if we have itâ??" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian nodded and said, "There goes my poteen." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... Our hands must be shaken dry," she went on, with a grateful nod in his direction, "rather than being dried with a cloth that might contain harmful impurities. There is more than enough poison in that leg as it is and its removal should be done speedily. That's why I need the lamps now rather than waiting for daylight." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The captain looked at Seamus, who nodded and left quickly to begin making the necessary arrangements, then turned his eyes on Sinead again. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'What of the seventh man?" he said. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â She paused for a moment, her face clouding over and plainly seeking for inner composure, then went on, "He is the young man, Liam, and the worst of them all. He took a deep thrust in his lower belly that opened his boweL so it did not matter whether or not the blade was poisoned because his own wastes escaped into his body with the same effect. He has a high fever and is in great and continuing pain, and moans softly and constantly when many another man would be screaming in agony, but he tells me that doing such a thing would make him feel unmanly and ashamed of himself. There is no way that I can save his life, which will end in four or five days' time. The potion I administered, which is itself a slow poison, deadens his pain a little but does not remove it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "In greater strength the potion would kill him within a few moments," she ended, "with no pain at all." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Healer," said the captain gravely, "is that the action you yourself would take?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It is," she said, looking at his face for a long moment without either blinking or looking away. "But the final decision must be yours because you are his captain." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I am much more than his captain," said the other in a low voice that was filled with pain, "I am also a good friend of his family who has known him since he was a babe in arms. Neither I nor they would disagree with your proposed action, so your recommendation is approved. But before you put him into the endless sleep, I shall say my last words to him and, when you are administering the potion I would like you, too, to speak to him, not as another boy but with gentleness as the last woman he will ever meet." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I will do that," she replied softly as the captain was leaving. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el looked at Sinead, picked up his folded map and rose to leave. "I hear the captain and Seamus outside with your patient," he said. "Regrettably, I can be of no help in what you have to do. I wish steady hands and calmness of mind to all of you, and to Tomas the best of good fortune ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Please, before you go," Brian broke in. "Declan and I were too busy last night to see the magical beast that frightened off the Romans. What did you do, what was it, and what did it look like?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I merely shone a light onto the foresail," said the old man gently, inclining his head toward Sinead. "It was the healer who conjured up the terrifying beast." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Sinead," said Brian, "you're a healer, not a magician. What does he mean and what did you do?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The captain and Seamus arrived carrying Tomas at that point and Sinead, looking uncomfortable, told him that she had done very little and she had too many instructions for them to waste time answering unimportant questions. But suddenly the subject and the question arose again and from a source she could not very well refuse to answer. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â They were ready to begin work and the medical situation and their plans for remedying it had been explained in detail to Tomas. He had already downed almost two flagons of wine so that, he told them with a wide and completely relaxed smile, if he had not been roped tightly to the table he would have been floating close to the ceiling. But before the work began he, too, wanted to know all about the terrible monster that had been conjured up to protect their ship, and which he had not been able to see for himself. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He said that if he was to die this night it should not be from curiosity. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'The magician lit up the foresail," Sinead said, her face coloring with embarrassment, "and I produced the monster. Are you quite sure that you want me to do it again?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No," Tomas mumbled, then immediately contradicted himself, "I mean, yes. Captain, you told us that it wouldn't hurt any member of the crew. If it is too fearful, I'll tell myself that the wine is affecting my mind and I will simply disbelieve in its existence." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The captain laughed quietly and said, "It will not hurt you, drunk or sober. But your mind is working clearly and with the logic of a philosopher, so it may be that you are still too sober. Have some more of Brian's wine, look at the monster and then, Tomas my friend, we must take off your leg. Healer?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sinead nodded and reached up to the lanterns hanging from the low roof beams, turning down the wicks of all but one which she lowered on its chain to chest height before closing all except one of its windows. A single square of yellow light shone on the cabin's aft wall in clear sight of everyone. She placed her hands between the light and the wall. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "When I was very young," she said. "My father showed me how to make shadow pictures ..." her hands clasped together in different ways as she demonstrated, "... of a dog, like this, or a duck or my favorite, a butterfly that moved its wings. Later I became more imaginative and made pictures of fearful demons and flying monsters including this one. of which, to humor me, my father pretended to be afraid. Last night this same one appeared briefly in giant size, filling the entire expanse of the foresail which rippled and bellied in a wind which made the monster's body move with great realism. The boarders glimpsed it for the few moments that Ma'el's light was shining and thought that we had conjured up a terrible, winged demon. Unlike my father they were not pretending to be afraid of it and so they ran back to their boats." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For a moment Tomas stared wide-eyed at the dark picture and the illuminated hands that were making it, then he swore and began to laugh. "It frightens me, a little, even when I know what it is." he said, and looked into her face for a moment before he went on. "Thank you, healer, for the most hilarious and outrageous joke I have ever heard, as well as for everything else you are trying to do for me. I am ready." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan was to remember the sights and sounds of that night for the remainder of his life, and they were to trouble his sleep for many weeks to come. Tomas had screamed throughout, stopping only to breathe, and Declan had not blamed him because in the same position he would have been doing the same. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Despite the padded cord that had been twist-tightened around the upper leg to reduce the flow of blood, after the first deep, circular cut was made to the depth of the bone there was a frightening amount of it oozing and pumping sluggishly onto the captain's table. It was even worse when Sinead, her words calm but her face the palest he had ever seen on a living person, made two more deep vertical cuts at the edge of the original one and asked him to hold the resulting flaps of muscle and bleeding flesh backward and away from the bone while she used the saw. The job had fallen to him because, in spite of the tight ropes encircling his body, both the captain and Brian had been needed to hold the struggling Tomas still. As she worked Sinead had explained that the bone had to be cut short so that a flap of muscle and flesh could be folded over the end of it to form, if the work was successful, a fleshy pad that would support a wooden leg. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â But then she had asked him to hold tightly a slippery, pulsing artery between two tightly pressed fingertips and a thumb while she tied off the end with a length of poteen-soaked catgut while explaining, as if he had been some kind of high druid examiner of healers, or perhaps her dead father, that the ends of the knot were being left long so that they would project beyond the wound and be withdrawn when healing was complete. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â She had done many other intricate and bloody things before he had been asked to hold the edges of the fleshy flaps together while she joined them together with more cleansed catgut except for a small slit containing a short length of quill which, she had said, would allow bad blood and pus to flow away so that the wound, if the fates willed it, would not go bad on the inside. By the time that had been done and the stump bound firmly in washed rags, Tomas was quiet again. She had given Declan a small, serious smile, then thanked everyone and told them that their faces were paler than the patient's and that they should all sit down for a while. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Lastly she had bent over Tomas, raised his head slowly in one hand while holding a small cup to his lips with the other. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'Tomas," she said gently, "this night your body has worked harder than it has ever done in a month of labor, and endured more pain than most men are called on to suffer in a lifetime. It is all that hard work and pain, more than the mind-dulling potion I have administered, or the soft, warm hammock that awaits you, that will put you to sleep. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "So rest easy, Tomas," she said, laying her hand gently on his forehead, "you have done very well." CHAPTER FIFTEEN Excerpts from Ma'el Report. Days 112,557 to 112,584 Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The weather remained fair and the winds favorable until we passed through the Pillars of Hercules and turned eastward into the Mediterranean, whereafter the wind continued westerly and mild. In spite of explaining that this good fortune was due simply to the operation of the meteorological laws of chance, the crew believed me responsible and thanked me many times for it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I am deliberately curtailing the use of my 'magic map' because it would be an unkindness to make the captain too dependent on it before I leave his ship. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "On the second day after repelling the Roman boarding craft off Finisterre there was a ceremonial disposal of the form of flesh that had recently housed the young man Liam. The rite involved the officers and some of the crew speaking words of praise and admiration about his short life and I, although present, did not take part because the philosophical reasoning behind it was unclear to me as there is nothing with any resemblance to this ceremony among the Taelon. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The damaged helmsman, Tomas. is progressing well after giving the healer initial cause for concern when his stump became inflamed for a few days and required constant poulticing. Now, when the sea is calm, he moves about the deck on two crutches made for him by the ship's carpenter, who has also promised to make him a thick, wooden peg and attachment straps so that he will be able to balance his weight naturally and discard the crutches. The healer insists that this should not be done for several weeks so as to enable the fleshy pad at the end of the leg stump to heal and harden to the point where it will support the helmsman's weight without pain. By now all of the crew know that the healer is female, but they maintain the pretense and use only her title rather than her name, and from conversations I have overheard on my sound sensor it is clear that they would be willing to die rather than allow any harm to befall her. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I am particularly impressed by the way the helmsman, Tomas, has been able to overcome his disability. The idea of a physically crippled Taelon is inconceivable and repugnant to me. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Apart from my servants, who are still not entirely at ease with each other, the psychological behavior of the humans on board is very good, a condition which Captain Nolan describes as being in good spirits. When they are not otherwise engaged and the sun is out, they have taken to projecting hand pictures on the deck or superstructure and compete with each other to see who can make the most realistic subjects. As the person who saved them by showing the first picture, the healer is called on to judge the competitions. At times they have a tendency to behave like children, which is strange because their life spans are too ephemeral to waste on activities that are nonessential. But from time to time they do this, and in spite of the desirability of remaining emotionally detached from the specimens under evaluation, 1 am aware of a strange feeling for these ridiculously short-lived beings that is analogous to the affection felt by them for their even more transient and non-sapient work animals and pets. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It was this strange feeling, as well as the inconvenience of losing and having to replace servants, which caused me once again to intervene secretly so that their lives could be saved ..." - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â They were passing between the southern extremities of Sardinia and the north coast of Africa and turning northeast with a light following wind onto the heading that would take them to Rome, when the triangular sails of two ships were sighted astern. Within moments Seamus joined them beside the wagon. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Healer, Declan,'" he said, his voice unnecessarily loud because it was plain that he wanted Ma'el, who was resting in the wagon, to overhear him as well. "They are pirate craft out of Carthage by the look of them, with about the same spread of sail as ourselves but with the advantage of rested oarsmen or, more likely, galley slaves who can be whipped half to death to give them the speed they need. A stern chase is usually a long chase, but the captain estimates that they will catch us by midafternoon unless ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He left the word hanging. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You want Brian and I to take an oar...?" Declan began. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "No," Seamus broke in, glancing at his long-axe and gladius. "We need you rested if you are to fight well." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sinead looked at Declan and made an obvious attempt to force calmness into her voice as she said, "If they catch us as early as that, there can be no fearsome beast to threaten them from the sails. Or were you suggesting something else?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I don't know what I'm suggesting," said Seamus grimly as he was turning to leave. "These pirates are worse, much worse, believe me, than the Romans we fought off at Finisterre. But Ma'el has withdrawn from us. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Even though he remains friendly he will not even show us his magic map. I was hoping that you would ask your master to help us." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When he had gone, Declan looked up at the wagon and said, "We'd better tell Ma'el about this." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sinead shook her head. "There's no need," she said, "I have the feeling that he hears and knows everything that is happening on this ship. Whether he will do anything about it is another matter." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â They watched without speaking as the pursuing ships crept closer and the climbing sun began to warm the deck timbers around them, the silence broken only by the steady creaking and splashing of the oars, and the drum that gave them their timing. But something incredible was happening, and the suddenly excited voices of the captain and Seamus aft showed that they, too, had seen it. Gradually, and in spite of their filled sails and the sunlight flashing off their oars, the pirate ships were falling behind. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Seamus returned when the ships were shrunken with distance, his teeth making an uneven white line across his bearded face. "The captain says that we must have encountered a strong, northeasterly current," he said jubilantly, "one that our enemies have not been able to find. It is aiding both sails and oarsmen and if we can stay in it the pirates will be out of sight by sunset ..." He paused to glance at the wagon, "... So if you haven't done so already, there is no need to worry the old man about this matter." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â When he had gone, Declan grasped one of the ropes, many of which the crew had considered unnecessary, that anchored Ma'el's wagon to the vessel's structure, and felt it thrumming in his hand like the string of a silent lute before he looked at Sinead. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It is not a fortuitous current that is helping us," he said quietly. "I think we both know that it is ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â She raised a warning finger to her lips and said, "He will hear you." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Yes," said Declan, "but on our first night out of Cobh he told Brian that he did not want to control our minds or how we used them. But I would not want Ma'el to think that my mind was a stupid one." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â She didn't speak and he went on quietly, "Look at the ropes holding Ma'el's wagon. They encircle or are tightly attached to the strongest and best-supported cross-members of the hull. When the ship pitches and rolls and the vehicle's weight moves off center, the ropes on one side should tighten and on the other loosen, yet they all remain the same and as tight as ..." He groped for a suitable word without finding it and went on, "You are not stupid, either, and must know what is happening because I remember you telling me that Ma'el used to lighten his wagon for the horse's sake." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Still she did not speak. Declan struck the nearest rope with the edge of his hand and watched it vibrate for a moment before he continued, "There is no favoring current. He and his wagon are lifting us so high in the water that there must only be a fraction of the ship's bottom immersed, so that means the light wind is pushing us with greater speed and the oarsmen are assisting it because they have a lesser weight to pull against. There is no doubt in my mind now. Ma'el is a truly great and powerful magician, but he doesn't want anyone to know about it except, for some reason, we two." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sinead stared for a long moment at the side of the wagon. "I don't believe that Ma'el would hurt anyone for talking about him," she said, "but let us keep this knowledge to ourselves." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â In the captain's cabin that evening, the only subject of conversation between the old man, Brian, and the ship's officers concerned the plans for off loading Ma'el's wagon and party at Ostia in two day's time, and the discussion became even more intense when Brian advocated a complete change of plan at the last moment. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "My onward trip to Alexandria is not all that urgent," he said, "and I will enjoy a short stay in Rome while Ma'el is doing whatever it is that a magician does there. It will mean that he can safely leave his wagon on board and away from prying eyes while we use local conveyances for travelling to and from the city. Ma'el, I know my way about Rome and will gladly serve as a guide, as well as gaining you entry to libraries, establishments, and homes of the Patrician families that you might otherwise find difficult of access." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el smiled the gentle thanks of one who has been offered a service that he might not need. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "After all," Brian added disarmingly, "with you as a close companion it is likely, nay, certain, that I will be able to discover more secrets of value than any obtained during my lifetime of spying." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â And so it was that they threaded their way through the constantly arriving and departing grain ships that filled the bellies of the citizens of the Eternal City, to tie up at a dock assigned by the harbormaster while the sights and sounds and smells common to any busy seaport, as well as those peculiar to this one, filled the morning air. Brian, as good as his word, busied himself arranging transportation, Sinead was so bursting with quiet excitement, as was Declan, at the thought of visiting Rome itself that they paid little attention to the organization of the affairs of a docked ship and its crew. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â With the quietly listening Ma'el beside them, Captain Nolan and Seamus had been discussing the pay of the off-watch crew members whose turn it was to go ashore, and the advisability of doling it out in small, daily, or nightly amounts so that they would be able to spend it piecemeal on the more substantial pleasures rather than squandering it all away on a few hours of excitement in a gaming house, to return to their ship as poor as they had been when the voyage had begun. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The captain had smiled then and added that these monetary restrictions would not, of course, apply to the more generous pay of his Ionadacht who was free to spend as much of it and as many nights away from the ship as he desired, or as long as his considerable bodily strength could sustain him, and who well deserved a few of the pleasures of the flesh. Seamus had shown his teeth and agreed with enthusiasm that his captain's advice was good and he would most certainly take it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Seamus," Ma'el broke in at that point, "the advice is well-meant but it is not good. With respect to your captain, I advise you not to take it." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â They joined Sinead and Declan in staring at the old man with their mouths open. It was Seamus who found his voice first. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You and your servants have done very well by us and we are grateful," he said angrily, "but guard your tongue, old man. This matter is of no concern of yours." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ma'el shook his head in gentle disagreement. "Without your knowledge or permission I have made it my concern. In a marketplace in Cork I spoke with a young woman who gave me valuable information about your captain and yourself, knowledge which was the direct cause of me travelling in your ship ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "You, you spoke with Maeve?" Seamus broke in. "What business had she talking to a..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... In return for this intelligence," he continued gently as if the other had not spoken, "I foretold the joined futures of Maeve and yourself, as well as promising her that I would try to guard you from harm. But I cannot fend off harm, either physical or that caused by the pangs of mental guilt that a wrongdoing would later cause you to inflict on yourself. Maeve would not, I believe, want her man to do this weak and foolish thing." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The small area of Seamus's face that was not hidden under his thick beard had turned deep red, so much so that the captain, looking concerned, put a restraining hand to his arm. But the high color died and in a moment he shook his head and sighed. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "That she would not," he said in a very serious voice. "For a strong man I can be as soft and weak in some ways as a child. Thank you, Ma'el, for your timely reminder. Captain." - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Yes, Seamus?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It seems that I will not be spending my evenings carousing in the fleshpots of Ostia after all," he said, "so if you feel like doing so, or visiting your beloved chart room in the museum of shipping, or swapping tall tales or the latest lore of your profession with the other visiting sea captains, I shall stand the shipboard night watches and be reluctantly virtuous." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Until I return," the captain said, laughing as he clapped Seamus on the shoulder, "bearing a flagon or three of Italy's best red wine with which to toast your distant Maeve." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Before the sun had reached its zenith Sinead and Declan were seated, as befitted a servant and a guard, above and in front of their master with the driver between them, in the extravagantly decorated wagon that Brian had provided, traveling the most famous road in the world, the Appian Way into Rome. CHAPTER SIXTEEN From Ma'el Report. Day 112,585 ... Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â In spite of the fact that I am in possession of more information on Rome and the other Imperial dries and centers of power on this planet as well as its places of learning, art, and culture, the Earth beings from whom I gathered the data firsthand have lived out their short lives or have added little to their stock of knowledge, so that a person like Brian is required to perform the necessary introductions that will bring me abreast of current developments. I have learned over the centuries to control my irritation when people of this kind assume that they know more and are therefore more intelligent than I am. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Although considered a scholar and philosopher of repute among the learned of his own people, his interests in law, art, and drama are a pretense designed to serve his covert profession, and his first concern is the acquisition of knowledge and the second is the worldly riches it would bring. This is regrettable because otherwise he would have made another valuable servant and adviser in that which lies ahead.. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Instead I can foresee him taking many stupid risks which could make his short human life even shorter. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "But why do the healer, Sinead, and the protector, Declan, although their loyalty is unquestioned and their mental powers are potentially greater than any others of their kind that I have met, indulge in verbal violence at every opportunity ...?" - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â While crossing the bridge over the Tiber and on the wide road into the center of the city the wheeled, mounted, and pedestrian traffic increased to the stagewhere their conveyance either stopped or moved forward at a slow walking pace. Their horse seemed to appreciate the chance to rest and the driver, in the manner of his profession, used the time to point out with pride the many architectural wonders of a city filled with the classic beauty of the forum, temples of gods both current and almost forgotten, the theaters, the coliseum, and the whitely gleaming mass of the recently completed Arch of Constantine of which he was justly and extravagantly proud, all of which would no doubt be of interest to visitors of importance. But he spoke with enthusiasm of other places as well, establishments managed by relatives of his which would offer more varied and amusing if less-learned diversions to servants such as themselves who were obviously visiting this wonderful and wicked city for the first time. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan was reminded of Padraig of distant Cashel, the friendly old tailor whose relatives had a finger in every commercial enterprise in the town, and laughed aloud. But the sound had an embarrassed edge to it because the driver was becoming specific about the entertainments that were on offer and did not suspect that the person on his other flank was female. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... A well-built and mature man like yourself would have no difficulty in finding a beauteous companion, or companions," the driver went on, nudging Declan knowingly in the side. "But with gentle intuition a boy can grow into a man very quickly in this most sinful of cities. For example, there are the young female slaves who serve in the Baths of Appolyon in the Street of the Silk Vendors, fair-haired Teutons, sloe-eyed Orientals, and dusky Nubians who are particularly adept at..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sinead's lips were pressed tightly together and her face was deepening in color. When Declan pointed at and asked about a particularly ornate, two-horse chariot that was crossing their path, she gave him a grateful look, but the driver said that it was one of the charioteers that they could see racing in the Coliseum on the morrow, and resumed giving her the benefit of his experience. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... You look uncomfortable and red in the face, boy," he went on releasing the reins to clap a large, hairy hand on her knee, "as I was the first time. But there is no need, you will be experiencing the greatest of all delights for a man young or old. Naturally you will be eager, but be gentle also and curb your natural inclinations because then the rewards will be greater. In your case it might be better if you confessed that it is your first time because some of the young women, although they will appear and may truly be younger than you are, may feel like mothering you and will..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "If you please, enough," Sinead broke in, her face flaming into the redness of a setting sun. "1 thank you for your advice, driver, but it does not interest me in the slightest. The physical attraction that you describe and that you think I am feeling would, if it was present, be directed at a handsome young man." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For the first time since they had boarded his vehicle the driver was silent for a few moments. Then he looked from one to the other several times, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Declan forestalled him. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "He speaks the truth," he said, fighting hard to keep a straight face, "although I am a little too old to arouse such feelings in him." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The quiet, choking sounds that Sinead was making were covered by the driver's hasty words of apology. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Please believe me," he said quickly, "I meant no insult to either of you. The city caters to all tastes. Should you wish an introduction to others of your kind, young man, there is an establishment on the Street of the Green Arches that..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan cut him off with a raised hand. 'To avoid giving further offense," he said, "perhaps you should confine yourself to describing your city's beauties of stone and marble." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Yes, please," said Sinead with quiet fervor. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The traffic thinned and they continued in silence until the driver halted at an arched entrance to a many-pillared villa that was built from delicately veined marble. The impressive figure that advanced to meet them wore polished, dark brown leather armor that was several shades fighter than his skin, matching boots, and a helmet the dazzling whiteness of whose plume was repeated in an ankle-length cloak whose folds did not quite conceal the presence of a dagger and a gladius, both of which looked bright, clean, and very sharp. He towered over Declan even though he was on the raised driving seat and the other's feet were on the paved roadway, but his attention was on Ma'el and Brian. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Your pardon, citizens," he said politely in a thick and strangely accented form of Latin that Declan had never heard before. "Who are you and what is your business at the home of the noble Marcus Grappilius Medina?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Brian's manner was equally polite but with a trace of condescension as he replied, "I am Brian O'Rahailley, traveler and scholar and known to your master these many years, and this is my traveling companion, Ma'el the Magician, for whose good behavior I can also vouch. We are recently arrived from Hibernia and crave the boon of an audience, as well as surcease from the dust and smells of the city and a little light refreshment. Kindly inform your master of our presence." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â There was a sound of hurrying, sandaled feet from somewhere behind him as the other bowed, stepped to one side and gestured toward the villa entrance as he said, "News of your arrival is already being conveyed to my master, who will doubtless wish to welcome a friend and far traveler without delay. Please step down and enter, citizens, a slave will conduct you to his presence. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Regrettably," he added with a glance at the driving seat, "in these unsettled times I am required to search and disarm your slaves." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Of course," said Brian, and added quickly in Gaelic, "Easy, Declan. Slave and servant are the same word here, so do not take offense; allow the search without argument." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Declan laughed and jumped to the ground. Speaking in Latin so that the enormous guard would hear and understand him, he said, "Ease your mind, Brian. I take no insult nor would 1 dream of starting an argument with this polite black mountain of a man. Will Ma'el and yourself be safe without us?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "In the home of the foremost lawgiver, advocate, and magistrate in Rome," Brian replied, smiling as he also returned to speaking in Latin, "your master could be in no place safer." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â At the guard's polite direction, Declan unbuckled his long-axe harness and sword belt and placed them on the ground before dropping his cloak and helmet on top of them. Quickly and thoroughly every pocket and fold of the cloak was searched, then the enormous black hands with their pink palms moved to cover the surface of his clothed body before the guard stood up and turned to Sinead. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "That one is a healer," said Declan quickly, hoping to save her physical embarrassment, "and bears no weapons." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "An admirable calling," said the other. His smile was as broad and white as that of Seamus, Declan thought, except that this one's face was black rather than just the beard. In an apologetic voice he went on, 'if you were discovered to be bearing concealed weapons inside the house, regardless of the one committing the offense and whether or not you were using them at the time, both of you would be instantly slain, and I would be severely chastised with whips for dereliction of my duty." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He paused several times while his hands were patting Sinead's clothing, but when he stepped back he made no comment other than to say, "Please follow me. Your weapons, cloaks, and helmets will be returned on your departure. Until then you may eat, bathe, and rest as you wish in the slaves' quarters. My name is Klum'bgaa, and I have questions which I hope you will be kind enough to answer. You are the first Hibernians I have seen ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "And you the first Nubian we have seen," Declan broke in, smiling, "so it is likely that the questions will be many and come from both directions. I am called Declan by friends and this is Sinead. If I may presume on your kindness by asking the first question ..." he stared at the man walking beside him from head to toe, "... why is there not a Nubian empire to rival that of Rome? You have the body and the bearing of a soldier, a commander of men and a person of rank rather than a slave ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He broke off as for a moment Klum'bgaa's dark features became as still and hard as polished obsidian. When he spoke his voice was so quiet that it carried no farther than to Sinead and himself. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Have a care, Declan," he said. "In this city, slaves do not speak in this manner to each other even, and especially, if the words they speak are the truth. But I will tell you that in my lands there are stories told of a great civilization of my people called the Nok that covered much of central Africa long before the Pharaohs held sway ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The other's voice remained quiet but the hurt and anger in it could not be concealed as he went on. "... It was broken up, as so many cultures are, and the pieces were conquered by invaders until they lost everything but the memories of past glories. I was the defeated chief of one of the largest pieces, and then I became the greatest and most valuable gladiator in all Rome, until I succumbed to the malady called Christianity which teaches that might is not always right and that the greatest wrong of all is to kill another man. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "When the most feared gladiator in Rome," he went on, the anger fading from his voice, "began refusing to kill or even seriously injure an opponent in the circus, my former owner sold me for a handful of coins to the present one, who is not a Christian but is sympathetic to them, and I became the fearsome gate ornament that you see." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I'm sorry," said Declan. "The answer to my question has caused you pain. I shall ask no more. If you would ask any of me, I will be happy to ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "1 have a question," said Sinead, looking up at the enormous figure beside her. In a quiet but very serious voice she went on, "If Declan had decided to attack you, as a Christian would you have, well, turned the other cheek?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Klum'bgaa looked uncomfortable for a moment, and Declan decided that if his face had not already been as black as ink he would have been blushing as he said, "Perhaps. But I confess to not being a very good Christian." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sinead and Declan laughed quietly and, after a moment of uncertainty, Klum'bgaa relaxed and joined them. They were still smiling together as they arrived in the surprisingly large and comfortable slaves' quarters, and Declan was answering one of the guard's questions to the effect that it was only certain deranged Britons rather than the Hibernians who painted their skins with blue woad before going into battle when the other held up a hand for silence. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "That is fortunate," he said, still smiling, "because otherwise you would have been asked to scrape your skins clean and wash yourselves from basins in the yard before entering the baths, lest a foreign dye should permanently stain the master's decorated tiling which is of exceptionally beautiful craftsmanship. The baths are in that direction, you can see the steps leading down to the pool, and there is an antechamber where you both may disrobe and leave your travel-stained clothing to be freshened, after which you should follow that corridor; your noses will give you the direction as well as your eyes. In the kitchens you may rest and eat and talk about yourselves, bearing in mind that the more you satisfy the slaves' curiosity, the more generous will the refreshments be â?¦ Is there something amiss?" Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sinead was shaking her head firmly and slowing to a stop while she looked in the direction of the kitchens. "Iâ?? I would prefer to eat and rest now," she said, changing to Gaelic speech and staring at Declan. "You bathe first." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He shook his head and made a sound that had too much impatience in it to be a laugh. "Brian tells me that in Rome the baths are public places, whether large and maintained by the city or those within homes that are privately owned. It is the custom here. Do you want these people to think that you have unclean habits? You can hear the voices of others who are already bathing ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "That," she replied in a quiet, angry voice, "is not what concerns me, and well you know it." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Don't be an amadan entirely!" he said angrily. "You are not a fool and should not talk like one, and I am not a rampant animal in heat who would lose control of myself at the sight of the wet, scrawny body of a near child ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Scrawny!" she broke in angrily. "You have the decorum of a, a ... And you should talk. That time I saw you in Cashel, I thought your body had more stitches than a patchwork quilt ..." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The angry words raged between them until Klum'bgaa raised a hand and cleared his throat loudly. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Normally it would be considered unmannerly for you to speak in my presence a tongue that I do not understand," he said when they fell silent, "so I assume that you are having a personal dispute of some kind that is no concern of mine. From the heat of your faces and anger in your voices it is fortunate that neither of you are armed. When the disagreement is settled you know where you are to go and what is expected of you. - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I must now return to my post." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â In the event it was Sinead who bathed first while Declan talked to the kitchen and household slaves. It was plain from the beginning that the limbs revealed by their short, sleeveless clothing bore no marks of the whip and that their love for their master far outweighed any fear of him. They ranged in age from mature adults to young children and it was obvious that some of them had been given permission, which they told him was unusual for a slave, to marry. Declan was hoping that he would get a chance to meet the strange pagan saint who was their master when Sinead reappeared muffled in a white, togalike garment, and it was his turn to bathe. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â He found that Sinead had elected to await his return before eating, and so had the others. It became a very pleasant evening among people who behaved as if they were the friends and family he had never known, but it was cut short by the arrival of Klum'bgaa who no longer looked like a gate ornament. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The sharp, bright weapons were still at his belt but the white plumed helmet and matching cloak had been replaced by darker and less decorative wear and with boots that did not shine and trod the floor without sound. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Your master, Ma'el, has expressed the desire to visit the catacombs under the Via Latinum at a time before dawn when few citizens will be about to see you, and my master has acceded to his wish. The noble Marcus Grappilius and the other Hibernian visitor, Brian, are engaged in conversation and feasting that will doubtless last the night, and I have been instructed to serve as a guide and guard to your master and yourselves during this excursion. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Your weapons will be returned to you at the gate," he added, looking at Declan. "You are advised to wear them." CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Ma'el Report, recall and review for sociological comparison purposes of Days 36,511 to 36,549 in the local calendar year 67 Anno Domlne ... Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Even though the peoples of this world are merely subjects for investigation and evaluation, I am finding it increasingly difficult to remain emotionally indifferent to individual members of a species that is capable of such extremes of nobility and depravity. In spite of the fact that they have conceived and formulated a structure of Roman law that will be the standard of judiciary practice for many centuries to come and their arts, culture, and philosophical breadth of mind is wholly admirable. I must continually remind myself that they are nothing more than a potential Taelon resource and I am here to observe them. "Without feeling. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'Today I watched a bloody naval engagement that was not fought at sea but inside the shallow, land-locked confines of the Circus Maximus. Four vessels took part, two war galleys on each side, and their masts were bare because they did not need the wind to move them in the restricted space, and sails would have obscured the view of the battle for the occupants of the higher terraces. Instead they carried armed galley slaves who were expected to fight when they were no longer required to row. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "My understanding of these events is due to the knowledgeable freedman, Severus, who I have employed to guard my person. He was himself a renowned gladiator who fought so fiercely and well, and earned so much gold as a result of his master's gambling on him over the years that, his owner out of gratitude first appointed him as instructor of the gladiatorial team and later gave him his freedom. According to Severus, no long-range weapons such as slingshots, bows, or ship-mounted catapults were being carried in case one or more of the gladiators, the majority of whom were expecting to die anyway, should in a fit of vexation aim his weapon at the august person of their Emperor and self-declared God who had decreed that this battle should take place for the entertainment of his beloved but unruly citizens of Rome. Severus added that the tunics of the contenders, white on one side and yellow on the other, had been chosen the better to display the flow of blood from the combatants' wounds. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The tactic favored by both sides was to overcome the initial inertia of their vessels and to build up as much speed as quickly as possible with the oars so that they would be able to pierce the hull of an opposing craft with the submerged, pointed ram in the bow and sink it to the bottom. Since the engagement was taking place in the muddied waters of a flooded arena rather than at sea, the stricken vessel did not sink very far and simply became immobilized with its decks awash. This meant that its crew had to fight either clinging one-handed to the upperworks or while stumbling and splashing waist-deep over an unseen deck. When one of the vessels suffered this fate a few of the spectators were amused by the incongruity of the sight of gladiators behaving like the most unsubtle of clowns, but the majority seemed to be bored by it and shouted loudly for more blood. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "More blood was forthcoming. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "But the tactic of ramming the opposing vessel broadside on was effective only once because the commanders of the defending craft immediately began countering it by turning their rams and strengthened forward hulls in a bow-to-bow collision. This was a difficult maneuver to perform with accuracy inside the restricted space of the arena and a misjudgment meant that the two vessels concerned either bumped and scraped heavily past each other, breaking off the oars on those sides and transfixing or grievously injuring the rowers with the splintering wood, or the rams tore open the length of their hulls with the same result for the oarsmen. For a short time the screams of the dying and drowning men could be heard over the noise of the crowd, and the muddy water around them was not dark enough to hide the spreading stains of red. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Only one vessel was able to avoid damage and it turned, positioned itself, and rowed forward to ram amidships an opposing vessel that was already listing and beginning to sink. Due either to overenthusiasm or misjudgment, its ram completely transfixed the other craft and, unable to reverse the oars in time to pull clear, the sinking victim pulled its attacker down with it until the other's bow was submerged and it, too, flooded and sank. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "None of the four vessels remained afloat, but they were joined by their rams or otherwise tumbled together into an untidy mass of partially sunken wreckage. Their fighters could still move, in spite of having to climb and wade chest-deep, or swim with their heavy weapons, from one ship's deck to another, and so the battle continued slowly and awkwardly and without any clear indication of which side was winning it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Their Emperor, Severus had previously explained to me, had promised the crowd a unique and costly spectacle against which all others of the past would pale into insignificance, a bloody sea battle fought before their very eyes inside the arena rather than on the distant secrecy of an ocean. He had promised them that he would awe, amaze, and stir them to heights of excitement far beyond anything in their previous experience, and to ensure that the combatants would give of their best during individual and ship conflicts, he was introducing a new measure. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "For the greater glory of their Emperor and the entertainment of his beloved citizens of Rome, and to avoid tiresome pauses in the action while he was asked who among the fallen should or should not die, they had been instructed to fight each other to the death without exception. But on this occasion they had been given an even greater incentive to wage bloody battle. The survivors on the winning side would be rewarded and decorated by their Emperor, while those who had fought but did not die on the losing side would be killed in full view of the crowd. The fighting would, therefore, be all the more fierce and completely without mercy. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "But the great spectacle that Nero had promised was fast becoming the greatest of all anticlimaxes. Hampered by the depth of the water covering the decks, the gladiators had to feel their way with their feet across the timbers and fight slowly and carefully while those who lost their footing and fell overboard into deeper water had to discard their weapons if they were to remain afloat. Watching slow and awkward swordfights or men trying to save themselves from drowning was not what the crowd had expected to see. They began booing and hooting in disdain, and many of them were looking up at the Emperor's enclosure as they did so. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It was plain from the color of Nero's already red and angry face that he did not like this mass show of disrespect to his august person, but there were not enough Praetorian Guards ranged around him, or even among the reserves in the palace barracks, to chastise the ungrateful crowd as it deserved. Instead he spoke sharply to one of the personages standing close to him, the man wearing the bright orange toga and diagonal red sash of the Master of the Arena, who quickly disappeared. For a long time the slow, waterlogged conflict and the angry, derisive shouting of the crowd continued while nothing else seemed to be happening except that the Emperor was standing beside his purple-draped divan, smiling broadly and pointing at the sunken ships. A few moments elapsed before the shouting from the crowd died away into a surprised silence as it was borne in on them that the sunken vessels were rising slowly out of the water and a new sound was heard, the loud splashing and gurgling of fast-flowing water. "The arena was being emptied. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "When the fighting men realized what was happening, they leapt down from the canted and slippery decks to continue the battle on what they thought would be the steadier arena floor, but in this they were wrong. The last of the water was slow to drain away and it covered the normally hard-packed ground in a layer of thick, wet mud. But they fought bravely and fiercely, singly or in groups that charged and countercharged between the canted, broken hulls of their vessels and over the splintered oars and the still and muddy bodies of those who had been killed or had drowned earlier. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The crowd howled with laughter as they cut, thrust, slipped, and fell to rise again so muddy that it was no longer possible to tell the team colors apart. But moments later they were shaking their fists and screaming in frustration when the fighters regrouped and began using the shelter of the spaces between the hulks of their ships as strong points, which meant that they all but disappeared from the view of the audience. The battle became a long, bloody, muddy shambles, with few of the fighters knowing who were friends and who enemies, that continued until the sun dipped behind the high, banked terraces on the western rim of the circus. The clash of weapons could still be heard, but all that could be seen were a few glimpses of muddy figures fighting on a similarly muddy ground in the lengthening shadows of the vessels' hulls. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "It was not the spectacle to end all spectacles that the Emperor had promised, and he was screaming in exasperation and waving his fists as loudly and angrily as any of the crowd. Then Nero gestured for the senior officer of his Praetorian Guard to come forward, spoke to him briefly before the man disappeared on what seemed to be an urgent errand. Moments later a guard detachment armed with long body shields and spears emerged from the gateway under the Imperial enclosure, formed into a single line abreast to march slowly across the muddy ground toward the ships. Ex-gladiators all, they had gained their positions to Caesar's elite guards regiment by being the best or, more accurately, the very worst and most heartless members of that pitiless profession. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Stronger and rested and better armed than the weakened or wounded fighters, they moved through the small groups of surviving combatants and unhurriedly and with a complete lack of drama or even effort, began spearing them to death regardless of whether their tunics showed traces of yellow or white under the mud. As they reformed and matched back the crowd went wild again, but not all of them. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "In a few places there were people who had stopped watching and cheering the Praetorians as they dispensed Caesar's reward for disappointing and embarrassing him before his people. Instead they were looking at the portly figure of Nero himself as he smiled and acknowledged the applause of the crowd. One of those who stared at the Emperor was Severus. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â " 'Those men should not have been put to death like that,' " he had said, a scar on his forehead showing dark against a face white with anger. 'A gladiator expects to die, but there is always the small chance of life and a fighting man's reward. A few of them should have been given that chance, and not slain by those Praetorian butchers just because the Emperor's idea for a sea battle was a stupid mistake from the beginning. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â " 'Nero is the one who deserves to die.' Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Severus is not a thinking man. I did not tell him that a Caesar who was so profligate and uncaring about the lives of his gladiators would give rise to unease among his own guards who had, after all, been recruited from gladiatorial schools. It was not one of my increasingly rare timesightings but a simple calculation of present cause and future effect. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The pictures forming behind my closed eyelids at the time were of a Circus Maximus increased to planetary dimensions, and a sapient species of primitive technology waging hopeless, defensive war against an enemy who would make the monstrous Nero seem gentle and kind by comparison. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "The Jarridians ..." - Forward to Day 36.549 ... - Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "... The arena has not dried out sufficiently after the abortive sea battle of Day 36,511 for the scheduled chariot race to take place, so that it was replaced by another and always popular event, a mass execution of the Christians who, rumor had it, had been responsible for the fire that had razed a large part of the city to the ground. The Christians ranged in age from very young children to the most senile of adults, and included many family groupings. On this occasion Nero, rather than filling the arena with crosses, the symbol of their dead and supposedly resurrected Redeemer, having the victims tied them to them and then drenching them with oil before putting them to the torch, had decided to give the crowd the sight and smell of raw rather than cooked flesh. The Christians would be armed with sharpened stakes, and lions that had been starved of food for many days would be sent against them. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "For the further amusement of the crowd, Nero had arranged that the pile of crude, wooden weapons for the Christians' use would be too small in number to arm all of their adults so that they would fight among each other for possession of them while the lions were being released. But perversely they did the unexpected. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Instead of fighting barehanded among themselves for one of the weapons, the old ones moved forward into the path of the lions to slow their approach with their own bodies while the younger, who had armed themselves, formed a wide, protective circle around their young, with the unarmed ones standing close by to seize the weapons of the fallen. Strangely there were few screams of fear or agony, except from the children who could be forgiven their weakness, as the jungle cats began ripping their victims into bloody shreds. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "Severus had turned his head away from the arena, saying that he was accustomed to the sight of blood but had never liked looking at it, and this was like watching cattle being killed in a particularly inefficient slaughterhouse. He spent the remainder of the show trying to attract the attention of a young female several tiers behind him. I merely closed my eyes and my ears to the bestiality taking place because there was much I had to think about. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â "I thought about this most powerful and populous of empires and of the strange cult of gentleness and extraordinary bravery growing here in its heart, of the sentient and sapient yet bestial crowd around me who venerated the deranged human monstrosity that was their leader, and of the defenseless people in the arena that he hated simply because they had been taught and believed, no, they knew, that there was eternal life on the other side of their individual deaths. I would have liked to meet this teacher of theirs, because this is not a concept that sits comfortably on the mind of an already long-lived Taelon.
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