'That," he ended simply, "is why I need your advice and help."
It was Brian who broke the silence. He said, "Declan, I speak for all of us when I say that we will help you in whatever way we can. The way Ma'el and your young wife and yourself defended this ship and treated its wounded demands no less. But with respect, to me you always seemed uncomfortable in the role of a servant. If you feel yourself free to do so, will you tell us your family name and the position of the land that you wish to reclaim?"
Declan did so.
Brian slapped his hand so hard on the table that wine spilled over the rims of their goblets. "I know of these lands. I remember the sad and dishonorable story told about them. There was a great wrong done by a stupid, petty-minded, and cruel father to his only son who was driven to…"
He broke off, his eyes beginning to shine with the excitement of a challenge. "Oh, Declan, my friend, you have given us a puzzle whose solution will make this voyage pass quickly indeed. It is prime meat for the platter of a devious-minded person like myself, and it is a matter with which I can and will help you although I will, of course, disclaim all knowledge of it. But righting this particular and long-standing wrong will involve more than the settling of a longstanding family dispute over the ownership of a few paltry acres of land.
"Declan, you are, no, we will be plotting high treason!"
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Ma'el Report. Day 112,353…
Contact is being maintained between the vessel in orbit and the sailing craft bearing my wagon, where Declan has ostensibly developed the habit of muttering to himself at odd times of the day or night. Since the revelation of his origins, the majority of the conversations have been between him and Sinead, who was irritated at him for not first telling her of his intentions regarding setting up a home for them. His response was that, to avoid disappointing her, he had not wanted to reveal his hopes and plans until they had a reasonably good chance of coming to fruition, which they now have. She said that if he got into trouble he would need a healer and she wanted to return to the surface and accompany him on the venture. I advised against this because of her physiological condition, and Declan agreed with me and expressly forbade her to do so.
"On a surface voyage as well as in orbital flight there is little for such short-lived, impatient people to do except look at the sea or, in her case, the stars, so that they have begun to discuss my problems, although often it felt to me like an interrogation in depth rather than a discussion. It is becoming increasingly difficult to conceal information from them and they are learning more about my work than subjects of an investigation should be allowed to know.
"They are engaging my mind with the empathy and persistence of Companions, and with the counsel of my fellow Taelons no longer available to me by my own choice, I find their concern strangely warming.
"Sinead had another timesighting. The episodes are spectacular in their detail but irregular in the intervals of manifestation. It frightened her badly, as it frightens me, because if my planned recommendations to the Synod are to be followed, she should not be able to foresee these future events because they should not happen.
"With advancing age and the diminishing faculties that isolation from the Commonality brings, I am becoming increasingly dependent on them, and again considered investing each of them with a Scrill weapon and the cyberviral implant which together would greatly increase their physical and mental powers as well as binding them emotionally to me to the exclusion of their present feelings for each other. But this would not have been fair to them because, as well as the strong emotional bond they have formed for each other, they remain faithful to me and their minds are already of admirable quality. I have finally decided to let them follow their own inclinations and not to interfere in any way.
"By Earthly good fortune rather than through the intervention of Taelon technology, the surface vessel Orla carrying my equipment made a fast and uneventful journey to Cobh."
Once again Declan strode through the wide, cloth- and garment-hung entrance of the tailoring establishment and bath house of Padraig of Cashel to stop before the long garment cutting table. The old tailor and his seamstress wife looked as though they had not changed position since the time of his first visit. Padraig moved his work aside, climbed stiffly to the floor.
"A good day to you," he said, smiling, "and pleased we are to see you again. You show a few more scars, and that helmet has seen serious use, but otherwise you look well. Is the young servant who was with you also in good health?"
Declan nodded his appreciating of the other's careful choice of words because at that time he had thought Sinead was a boy and the old tailor had known she was not.
"She fares well," he said, returning the other's smile, "in spite of now being my wife." He tapped the side of his helmet. "She sends her sincere thanks for your contribution to keeping my head intact. I regret my haste and seeming discourtesy, but there is an urgent service that I would ask of you. That is if you and perhaps your many relatives are capable of performing it."
Padraig inclined his head and waited for him to go on.
Lifting his heavy satchel onto the table, Declan opened it and withdrew a scroll which he unrolled and held flat while the other read it with a face that grew paler by the moment.
"I can provide all that you need," Padraig said finally, "but it will take time. I will have to employ many of my female relatives as seamstresses, and my brother will need more help at the smithy to beat out all these weapons. The horses and other equipment are less difficult to obtain, but expensive. Have you considered the cost?"
"Yes," said Declan, reaching into his satchel again.
"And you must realize," Padraig went on quickly as if ashamed of having mentioned the subject of payment, "that with the best will in the world these arrangements cannot be kept secret. There will be talk and it is sure to reach the high and powerful of this land." He tapped the list with a bony index finger. "Declan, are you preparing to fight a war?"
"You have been honest and even kindly in your previous dealings with me," said Declan, temporarily avoiding the question, "which is why I am asking for an additional favor. I know there will be talk, but I would like you to do most of the talking and to guide any wild rumors there may be back onto the paths of good sense. You might point out that I am not a threat to this province since I will be equipping and training my men outside Cashel and in full view of the King of Munster so that my warlike intentions must therefore lie elsewhere, and in the meantime the traders of this town will be benefiting from the gold I shall spend. If asked I would be pleased to explain my plans to your king, but not the position of their objective.
"The answer to your question is that I am preparing to fight a small war," he went on. "I will prepare for it so well, with cavalry and foot soldiers dressed and equipped uniformly and trained so highly that their very appearance and bearing will instill fear in an enemy, that it might not be necessary to fight it. At least, that is my hope.
"And to answer your unspoken question," he ended, "I have no purse of gold for you this time, but I hope that these, when melted down, with the gems and precious metals they contain, will cover the cost. If it should be necessary, more of them will be provided."
From his bag he took the golden shield, helmet, and wide, ornamental cuffs that had been given to him by the Aztecs and laid them on the workbench. Padraig's wife rose from her seat and hobbled forward for a closer look. For a long moment they neither breathed nor spoke.