"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 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…"
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."