The First Protector ec-2 Read online

  "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?"

  The boy glared at Declan, but remained mute.

  "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?"

  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.

  "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."

  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."

  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.

  "I accept," he said.

  "But your face and manner tell me that you have questions," the old man said. "What are they?"

  Declan nodded again and said, "Firstly, what reward can I expect for my long service to you…?"

  The boy made a loud, disgusted sound but did not speak.

  "… 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?"

  "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?"

  Declan thought for a moment, then said, "No."

  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.

  "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?"

  "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."

  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.

  "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."

  "Perhaps it was the work of another apprentice," said Declan, lending weight to the last word while deliberately not looking at the boy.

  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?"

  "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…"

  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.

  "… 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

  …"

  "Do you know," Declan broke in quietly, "where we are now?"

  –

  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."

  Declan looked at Ma'el. "And from here, where do we go?"

  The old man pointed to the lower edge of the chart. "We will travel to Gaul," he replied quietly, "and thence to Rome…"

  "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?"

  "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 g
reatest 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…"

  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.

  "… From Rome," said Ma'el quietly, "we travel onward to Far Cathay."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  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.

  '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?"

  Ma'el looked at him steadily for a moment, then made a gesture that could have signified yes or no.

  "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."

  Sean was staring at his sword and axe. He said softly, "Much about you is becoming clearer."

  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."

  As Declan paused for a moment to draw breath, Sean said softly, "And you acted as though I was being long-winded."

  For a moment the old man looked steadily at the boy, who averted his eyes, then he said, "Declan, please continue."

  "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."

  "Much shorter," said the boy, his eyes on the map, "if we were hungering for suicides' graves."

  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."

  Ma'el nodded slowly. "Are there other possibilities?"

  "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…"

  "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."

  "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."

  "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."

  Ma'el held up a hand and, turning his eyes on the boy, he said, "Please."

  "… 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 Gaul-"

  "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…"

  "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?"

  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…"

  Deliberately he did not complete the sentence.

  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.

  "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."

  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.

  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.

  "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."

  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."

  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."

  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.

  "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.

  "I will not leave him even if he should order me away."

  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.