by Kate Gray
you.”
Arpan shook a finger disagreeingly.
“Ah, Miss Alderton, I must differ. If this was the act of a human being, I think you might have succeeded. But I think that not the case. Major?”
“Ah, well, I don’t know if I know that yet, exactly. I should say, I don’t believe it to be the work of a person as you or I would define.”
“Major Macconnach, I think you have yet to share with me a certain amount of your story.” Isabel was angry now, thinking that her fears of being spied on were certainly confirmed. She’d certainly have some choice words for her father later on.
“Very well. Your father brought me here because of my talents, which I’m sure you as everyone else thought must be something only he could see in me.”
Isabel barely held back a derisive snort.
“In reality, that’s essentially it.” Macconnach shrugged. “Most upper level generals have someone like me on their staff, albeit usually as aides de camp. Your father has done me a tremendous honor by promoting me to the billet of executive officer.”
“What do you mean by, ‘someone like’ you?” Her suspicions gave way to utter confusion.
“I am not entirely like other men. Where I grew up, in the northwest of Scotland, they call us Tuatha de Danann. Sometimes also by a lesser term, the Sidhe.”
“The ‘shee’?”
“Seers, to put it in simple terms, as Mister Arpan had previously referred to. It’s a bit more than that, if you want to know. We are also bringers of death, tellers of fortune, communicants of the gods and the fair folk….”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand. Is this some sort of jest at my expense?”
“No, Miss Alderton. Major Macconnach speaks the truth. I recognized him immediately for what he is, because Lord Wellington also had on his staff someone with the same talents, as it were.”
For once in her life, Isabel Alderton felt at a loss for words. That her father had kept a secret of this sort was understandable; that it was conceivable and based in truth was what stumped her.
Her whole life and its learning had been focused on the tangible. She had been born in England, but raised in a land held under that nation’s thumb. She had seen misery and suffering, and its direct opposite of joy and peacefulness.
Nothing up until this moment had convinced her that any higher power had a hand in the lives of mankind. Even now, she had trouble accepting it, but for the fact that her father apparently had.
His logic she trusted, and by proxy, she had to trust that he believed in whatever Major Macconnach claimed he was. Even if it was a lot of hokum.
She breathed deeply.
“Would you mind very much if I asked you how you came to be aware of your skills? And how it is that the army happens to put you to this sort of use, as the right hand of its power brokers, so to speak?”
“I don’t think I care to go into exact details of my becoming aware. It was an accident, to be truthful, and it had rather catastrophic results. I left my own village. My father had heard about the desire to train young men such as myself for this sort of duty. I begged him to send me into service. He did, and put far more of his estate than I care to think about into seeing me through the promotions process. I think we can agree that I would not have been suited to life in a vicarage, any more than you feel suited to embroidery and painting flowers.”
Isabel smiled at this. He did seem to comprehend her, after all. He went on.
“As to the other question, I can only tell you a bit more than I already have. There are aspects to the duty that are, after all, classified. Your father has expressed to me that he does not object to your knowing; he trusts your discretion. However, to proceed further with this case that has cropped up here in the village, I expect that I’ll need his explicit authorization. In general, however, as far as I am aware, seers of my sort have been in use in Britain since at least the days of Julius Caesar. Probably longer, but that was the first point in time was such things were written down and recorded.”
“Used by whom, the Romans?” Isabel could feel her head spinning a bit.
“No.” Macconnach seemed to think hard. “Well, they certainly observed druids running about and causing havoc, but they apparently didn’t think it was any more useful than their own priests and soothsayers.”
“If I might interrupt, Major? You say that you will need to speak with your general. I think I shall accompany you.” Arpan began to rise, but Macconnach begged him to stay.
“Lord Abington will likely be glad to receive you, but I might suggest waiting until daylight. Miss Alderton and I must return, and get some rest, as I suggest you do as well. I will have to complete my morning’s duties, but I think if you come in the afternoon, perhaps in time for tea, we’ll be ready to receive you.”
ॐ
Arpan considered Macconnach’s words, and gave his agreement. It was certainly past midnight, and they could all do with some sleep. Macconnach straightened himself up. It had been a long and surprising evening.
He wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about its developments. The general was not likely to be overjoyed, either, but at least Arpan seemed to be an individual of discretion.
His prior service with the Duke of Wellington would be a favorable counterpoint to his own daughter’s somewhat rash behavior. Miss Alderton had her ideas, and the spirit to right wrongs, but she was naïve.
Her fortunate life in the shelter of her father’s excellent sense of command was far from the normality of life in the His Majesty’s Armed Forces.
No man under Abington’s rule wished to commit any wrong; the punishment nearly always was to be transferred into the far more brutal regiments outside these idylls. No man in his right mind wished to leave this pleasant duty station.
Macconnach worried a little about the utopia Abington had created. It was a thriving, pleasant environment for most, but it would always be transient. He wondered whether he had been brought in for reasons, which Abington might still be withholding.
Whatever was going on in that village was not contained to it, for instance. Macconnach could feel the tendrils of evil reaching out all around him; it was looking for toeholds, the way an ivy creeper would. As with that parasitic plant, anything that evil took hold of would begin to crumble and decay.
They took their leave from Arpan, who was not entirely happy with the need to wait until the next afternoon; he greatly feared that some new incident would befall his people. Beyond that, a child was missing, and they would have to organize a search at daybreak.
“I hope you’ll forgive my skepticism, Major. In spite of his having faith in you, my father did raise me to be something of a critical mind.”
“Naturally. I think more highly of you, truth be told, for wishing to understand, rather than asking for your palm to be read, if you take my meaning.”
They walked side by side through the deepening night. Somehow, the air felt more close than it ever had before. Macconnach wondered if that sensation was a trick of the fears they now felt, or if it was genuine.
