"How does that make him useful to us?" Barclay asked.
"As a vehicle of knowledge," Raeburn replied. "The Druids, like the followers of Taranis, recognized and venerated the cardinal powers of the elements. Although separated geographically, both cults were active in Britain at roughly the same time. Both shared an affinity for the gifts of prophecy. That the two traditions were closely akin to one another is reflected in such artifacts as the famous Gundestrup cauldron, which pictures a figure of Taranis side by side with that of Cernunnos, the horned god of the wood. If anybody can determine what we need to do to recover our link with Taranis," he concluded, "Jasper Taliere is the one."
Shortly before three o'clock, Raeburn assembled his chosen lieutenants for the appointed briefing. Of the three people summoned to the previous meeting, Angela Fitzgerald was absent, having already been given a separate assignment to fulfill. Her place for this occasion had been taken by a well-built young man with smoldering eyes and extravagant pretensions toward fashion, whose dark-haired good looks were somewhat marred by early signs of self-indulgence. With the addition of Taliere, who now seemed fully recovered after his seizure, those present constituted a company of five.
Directing the others to chairs set around the library table, Raeburn took his place at the table's head and prefaced his opening remarks with a round of brief introductions for Tali-ere's benefit.
"You and Mr. Barclay have already met. Now let me present Klaus Richter, my chief advisor on matters of security, and Dr. Derek Mallory, one of our most promising associates."
Mallory preened slightly at the compliment, already aware of his brief to examine Taliere after the meeting was concluded. Ambitious, and apparently without moral scruples, he had begun his career with the Lodge of the Lynx while still an intern, augmenting his burgeoning medical expertise with impressive psychic ability as his competence in both disciplines progressed. Now a qualified anaesthetist, he had recently secured a residency at the Royal Edinburgh Hospital, which listed Dr. Adam Sinclair among its senior psychiatric consultants. Mallory's promotion to Raeburn's inner circle, replacing another physician who had failed in his duties, not only restored that facet of functioning to the Lodge of the Lynx, but Mallory's particular situation gave him an ideal opportunity to keep an eye on Sinclair's movements and interests.
Richter was the first person called upon to report. An attentive silence reigned as he delivered an updated account of what his surveillance agents had observed in the course of the two days since Adam Sinclair's departure from Scotland.
"My operatives in the States have been able to confirm that Sinclair is in Houston, attending a medical symposium. Of the nine telephone calls that have gone out from his hotel room, five have been directed to a number in San Francisco, which is listed to a Dr. X. Lockhart. A computer search of Dr. Lock-hart's personal records identifies her as the physician who attended Sinclair two years ago, and with whom he has since formed a romantic liaison. All the evidence so far accumulated suggests that he intends to remain in the United States for the duration of the Christmas holidays. This leaves us free to concentrate our attentions on his known associates."
From the black leather briefcase he had brought with him Richter produced a selection of black-and-white photos. The first set of pictures to be circulated showed a head-and-shoulders shot of a grizzle-haired man whose craggy features were offset by a bristling military moustache and a pair of metal-rimmed aviator spectacles.
"This man, as most of you will know, is Detective Chief Inspector Noel Gordon McLeod, of the Lothian and Borders Police," Richter noted coolly. "Though it is never officially acknowledged in police circles, he is the officer always detailed to deal with cases involving any esoteric or occult element. He is particularly adroit at misdirecting the attentions of the press - for which we can be as grateful as our opposite numbers."
As Taliere slowly nodded, Richter continued.
"Besides being a Master Mason, McLeod is also known to be a member of the Hunting Lodge. There is strong evidence to suggest that he ranks as Sinclair's second-in-command. So far, all his recent movements have been routine and accountable, but my operatives will be alert for any changes. His near dependents - if I may refer you to the other photos you have before you - include his wife, Jane Ellen, and one daughter, Kate Elizabeth, who is in her fourth year of studies at the University of Aberdeen. We are keeping all three of these subjects under surveillance, and will continue to do so until further notice."
The next photograph to be circulated was that of a much younger man, also bespectacled, but fair-haired and clean- shaven, with features that might have been chiselled by Delia Robbia.
"This man is Peregrine Andrew Lovat, a portrait artist whose reputation has soared since he was first taken under Sinclair's patronage about two years ago. The full spectrum of his talents has yet to be determined, but it would seem that his artistic abilities are augmented by some form of extrasensory perception that allows him to see and record resonances of the past. He has been significantly involved in a number of police investigations in which Sinclair and McLeod have likewise been factors. There can be little doubt that he is a Huntsman, and since the visionary nature of his talents makes him a particular danger to us, we shall be watching him very closely, indeed.
"His wife's involvement is, at present, unknown," Richter went on, tossing out a fifth set of photos. "They were only married last spring, but Sinclair seems to have introduced them, or at least encouraged the match. Her name is Julia."
"Very nice," Mallory murmured, allowing himself a broad grin as he scanned up and down a publicity photo of Julia posed beside one of her harps. "Any time your people get tired of watching her, I'd be delighted to lend a hand."
"Sadly for you. Doctor, your talents are likely to be required elsewhere," Raeburn said, on a crisp note that wiped the smile from the younger man's face. "Mr. Richter, I think we've spent enough time acquainting Master Taliere with the principal opposition players. With Sinclair temporarily out of the picture, I don't think we need worry overmuch about the others.
"The reason I've called you all here," he went on, "is to hear from Taliere himself regarding our coming operations. Earlier today, he took time to examine the dagger I obtained from the Head-Master. After reflection, he has some recommendations to make regarding its future empowerment. Tao-iseach!
The old Druid set his fingertips together in a narrow triangle, regarding them with eyes the color of peridots.
"Each of the Lords Elemental has his own realm and his own tongue," he began, with ponderous dignity. "As a servant of the Wood, I have little grasp of the language of fire. Nevertheless, at the behest of your chief, I sought audience with the lord Taranis and was granted it after a fashion. No words passed between us, but I have been given to understand that the Great One is willing to look with favor on the prospect of renewing your former alliance."
This announcement drew murmurs of approval from his listeners.
"What must we do to secure this alliance?" Richter asked.
"Lord Taranis will dictate his terms directly to those desiring to take part in the bargain," Taliere declared. "In so doing, he will set his seal upon them, so that thereafter they may understand and obey his commands. To receive his instructions, the ancient methods of divination must be employed, as prescribed by the Druids in ancient times. The eve of the Winter Solstice shall be the appointed time, some four days hence. Listen closely, for this is what must be done."
Chapter Three