The First Protector ec-2

by James White

  "If you please, venerable one," she said, "I-I would know the future."

  "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?"

  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?"

  Ma'el continued to regard her with steady eyes but gave no answer.

  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.

  "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."

  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…"

  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.

  "… 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…"

  '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?"

  "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."

  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…"

  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."

  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."

  "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.

  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.

  "Go," he said gently, "and may good fortune attend both of you."

  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."

  "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.

  "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."

  Sean made an irritated but respectful sound and said, "It grows dark. Shall I light the cooking fire?"

  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."

  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.

  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.

  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.

  "Please bring two more seats," said Ma'el. "I am expecting others to join us presently, and our needs can await their arrival."

  "But surely we are strangers in this city," said Sean. "Who can you be expecting?"

  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…"

  Declan watched as the boy went across to the two men quickly but not in a manner that might constitute a threat.

  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 througho
ut the evening to come, the floor might indeed do that.

  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.

  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.

  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.

  "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."

  "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."

  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."

  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.

  "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?"

  Without hesitation it was agreed.

  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.

  "… 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?"

  When it was plain that Declan was not going to reply, Sean made an angry sound and said, "He can."

  "I wasn't talking to you, boy," said Seamus. "You should not break in without permission when grown men are speaking. What frets you?"

  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."

  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?"

  "Yes," said Declan.

  "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."

  Ma'el inclined his head gently and said, "No horse."

  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?"

  The old man did not reply because Captain Nolan was tapping the table top for attention as he began speaking again.

  "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

  …"

  "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…

  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.

  "Nothing more of Taelon technology will be revealed other than that already shown to my servants…"

  –

  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 belonge
d 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.

  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.

  "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."

  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.

  '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…"