Read Waves in the Wind Online

Authors: Wade McMahan

Tags: #Historical Fiction

Waves in the Wind (35 page)

BOOK: Waves in the Wind
12.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“More than enough for an army but just enough for us, now be off with ye and tell the women to light their fires for I swear I could eat a horse.”

“You want a horse, too?” another of the monks wailed.

“Be out of here,” Goban snorted, “and I want those hams on the table before I finish taking me boots off.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Now Goban, you know the Christians believe gluttony is a deadly sin.”

“Well it’s lucky I’m no Christian.” He spun about and roared, “Where’s me hams?”

* * *

I woke to the morning sun, a burned-out fire and my stomach churning from too much food and ale. Goban was lying flat with an empty ale mug in his hand and grease still smeared on his chin while Laoidheach was curled up cat-like.

Goban’s eyes opened at that moment, and he sighed, rubbing his bloated belly. “For the first time in these many weeks I’m not hungry.”

Nodding, I growled, “I should hope not.”

He cocked an eyebrow as he sat up, cross-legged. “You’re angry?”

Rising to my feet, arms folded across my chest, I stood looking down on him. “And why shouldn’t I be after last night?”

“Last night?” He scratched his chin. “Just what was it that happened last night?”

Rocking back and forth from heel to toe, I pointed my finger at his nose. “I suppose you don’t remember your behavior toward Father Brendan? I suppose you don’t recall sitting at the table when I introduced him to you,” groaning and scrubbing my face with my hands, “that you hiccupped, opened your mouth and belched in the man’s face?”

Eyes wide, his jaw dropped. “I did no such thing.”

“You did precisely that.” My finger stabbed at Laoidheach. “And as for him, he sat slumped in a chair and didn’t even bother to wake up.” My eyes rolled as I threw up my hands. “Oh, and a fine impression it was the two of you made on the priest.”

There he sat like a stone until he raised his hands to cover his face. I thought him sobbing as his shoulders began bobbing up and down, but then a roar of laughter erupted from his throat. Rolling onto his back, legs flailing the air, his laughter filled the room.

Captured by Goban’s mood and antics, my anger melted, replaced by a smirk, a chuckle, until at last I was laughing aloud with him. Slumping over at the waist, my hands pounded my thighs as laughter poured from my throat. Yet, even during those few moments of uncontrollable merriment, I knew my laughter was born of more than my friend’s antics. Many of the shackles formed during my journey spawned by tension, horror and misery were falling away, and I was reveling in my release.

Standing erect, hands wiping laughter’s tears from my eyes, I watched Goban roll over and crawl on hands and knees toward Laoidheach. He shook the bard awake, who groaned and held his head between his hands. “Leave me alone, I’m dying.”

“Good ale that was,” Goban chuckled, “but I fear ye had too much of it. I need to bathe myself, and a good dip in the sea will clear that head of ye’rs.”

He took the protesting minstrel by the collar and led him from the hut.

Wiping the last remnants of a smirk from my face, I considered my next move. It was time to confront Brendan about finding space for my two companions on the voyage. Without doubt, before the passage to Tír na nÓg ended, I would have desperate need of them.

* * *

I found Brendan on a short rise above the village, and pleaded my cause. He sighed and shook his head. “I am truly sorry, Ossian, but it is just not possible. Your gold helped us, of course, but there is simply no room for them on the boat. Besides that, brother Erc and many others would not stand for two more nonbelievers on the voyage. I had trouble enough persuading them to accept you.”

“But Father Brendan—”

“Enough! Now let that be an end to it, for we have work to do.” He pointed down to the village, and his hand swept the busy scene. “As you can see, already the people returned to work. The sails have still to be finished and the oars cut, fish and hams to be smoked, ale brewed. You needn’t worry. We’ll find a place for your friend Goban in the village when we leave, for there is always work for a smith.”

He paused. “As for Laoidheach, I am not sure what we can do for him. Perhaps he can find a girl in the village who will have him and he can settle down and farm the land or learn some useful trade. He will have to lay up his harp, for there is no place for his songs among our Christian folk.”

“Finding a girl who will have him won’t be a problem for Laoidheach, but you could easier take his life than take his harp away from him.”

Brendan’s impatience reflected in his words. “His problems are of no interest to me, I have God’s work in mind. Now go, for Erc and I have many plans to make.”

I curbed my anger as I left Brendan, but was determined of one thing: The voyage would not take place without my friends.

Chapter 28

Planting the Seeds of Trickery

Brendan stood before his small cottage, the early morning sun gleaming upon the quiet gathering of twenty-nine monks massed before him. Though I knew many of the monks by sight, this was the first time I had seen the more recent arrivals. The eyes of every man fixed upon Brendan as he began speaking to them.

“It has been asked by some,” he began, “why God would direct us to sail to a place called Tír na nÓg. Is it not a pagan place? Is it not said to be a place where heathen spirits reside? Is it not said that those spirits pray to their demonic gods?

“It is has been asked by some, why God would permit such a heathen place to even exist. They ask why He would create a Heaven on Earth, the Blessed Isles, where Druids and the pagan spirits of Eire known as the Golden Ones cavort and mock his very existence.

“To those who ask such questions, I reply, why did He create an entire world where, at the beginning of time, none knew or came to Him? Was He not present while the ancient Greeks, Romans and even the pagans here in our beautiful Eire prayed to their demons? And yet, did He not in His Own time and in keeping with His Own divine plan, bring His Word to those lands so that the people there might at last come to know and worship Him?

“Hear me, Brothers, for by His Own words I know this to be His Truth. The Grand Master Himself, the Creator of All Things has called upon us to sail to Tír na nÓg that we might shed His Light, His Wisdom and His Grace upon the pagan spirits of Eire who dwell there, that they may find salvation upon the island paradise of His making.

“Think of it, Brothers! We few gathered here today were selected by The Lord of Hosts Himself to carry out His bidding. Think of it! Through His Divine Providence, you were chosen to be a part of His plan, so that in His time, all peoples throughout His world may see and come to Him. Throughout history, from the time of Christ Himself, may His many blessings be upon us, few men have been so honored by the Father of us all.

“Fall upon your knees, Brothers! Fall upon your knees! I call upon each of you this day, this hour, this instant to begin a three-day period of thanksgiving, a three-day period of fasting and prayers that we may come together as one to offer our thanks to the Lord God Almighty for His benevolence toward us!”

O Lord of Creation, O Father of us all,

Your unworthy servants come to You on our knees,

Groveling in penance for our many sins beneath the majesty of Your Light.

O King of Kings, O God of the Universe,

We ask that You might see Your poor followers and have pity upon us,

That You forgive our many weaknesses, as we blindly strive to serve only You.

We thank You, O Heavenly Father,

For Your Son Christ Jesus, who sacrificed Himself on the cross for us.

We thank You for Your guidance that we might find our way to the Blessed Isles.

We thank You, O Lord of Mysteries,

For hearing our unworthy pleas as we open our hearts to You.

We ask that You bless us now, and on our journey to carry out Your Will.

We ask all these things in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.

Amen

* * *

Goban stood scowling within his rough lean-to; his work-hardened fist gripped the hammer. He swung the hammer downward with a mighty blow and it clanged against the long, glowing iron rod resting on his anvil, showering hot sparks about him, and then glanced up at me. “It is good for a man to have useful work, though food alone is small payment for it. Why is it Brendan can’t see the worth of me skills and allow me to join his voyage?”

We had discussed this many times in company with Laoidheach. “Yes, I too would that Brendan might grant you passage, but to his mind, each of his monks will serve his god’s purpose as well as man a paddle. The ship’s complement is full and there is no place for you and Laoidheach even if Brendan would permit two more non-believers to join him.”

Goban squinted. “Brendan plans to sail soon, I think.”

“Within a fortnight.”

“And if something were to befall two of his monks during these last days, would there not then be room aboard, and would he not need willin’ replacements at the oars?”

His question smelled of intrigue and I lowered my voice. “It may all be true as you say, but what calamity might come to pass that the monks could not be present for the sailing?”

“Calamity?” Goban shrugged. “I said nothing of a calamity, and wish ill on no one. Still, if Laoidheach and I are to join ye, then the solution appears very simple—two places must become available aboard the ship.”

“How could that be possible?”

“Perhaps, in these last days, two monks will see the dangers they will surely face on such a voyage, lose their courage and so flee from the village in the middle of the night.”

I was suspicious of Goban, but shook my head. “And thereby break their word to their god and Brendan? By their beliefs, the monks might save their lives but lose their souls in so doing. No Goban, Brendan’s monks would not conscience such a thing.”

“So you say, but many men will barter certain death today against the loss of their souls tomorrow. Little it matters. Nothing will befall Brendan’s monks. I was merely reflectin’ about a possible future.”

I knew better. Goban never spoke idly. “Perhaps you think to encourage such a future?”

He inserted the iron rod into a pile of glowing coals, and began to squeeze his hand bellows. Fresh air flooded the bloodred flames, turning them yellow, blue and then white. “And if so?”

This was a new side to Goban, one I had not seen. “For the most part, Brendan’s monks are good men, and I would see no harm come to them.”

“Humph. First, ye speak of calamities, and now of doing harm. Do ye not know me at all? Again I say I wish no harm come to anyone…no real harm.”

I glanced about. No one was near to hear our words, but I kept my voice low. “You have thought how two monks might be encouraged to abandon Brendan?”

“Encouraged? Hah! Yes, you were right to say that none would willin’ly leave. The encouragement I have in mind will require force on our part, but I see how two monks might disappear just prior to the sailin’.”

I could not divine Goban’s plan, and plan he must have, or at least the beginnings of one. There would be great risk in attempting such a thing, but then, was not the voyage a great risk in itself? To have stalwart, trustworthy men at my side would be worth much risk.

Caution was needed. “You know it would mean much to me if you and Laoidheach could join our quest. But, if you think to remove Brendan’s monks by force, there can be no mistakes made. It must be done quietly, without undue injury to them.”

Goban mumbled, and turned to his fire. The iron rod was glowing red and he pulled it from the coals. He handed me a leather pad. “Take this and hold the rod over me anvil.”

I did as he asked, and he measured two hand widths from the rod’s glowing tip. He then placed a sharp iron wedge at the point of his measurement and struck it sharply with his hammer, and then struck it again. A short section of the rod broke away, and he grabbed it with his tongs.

Goban dropped his prize into a water-filled oaken bucket where it cooled with a loud hiss. He gave me a fleeting glance. “And so, Brendan has another iron pin to hold fast the floorin’ in his ship. Ossian, I think to capture two of the monks and keep them tied-up in your old cave near the sea. Your friends here in the village can release them after we sail.” His eyes spotted movement behind me. “Someone comes near. We must speak of this later.”

* * *

“Father, the villagers strive hard,” Erc was saying as we stood inside Brendan’s quarters, “but many of the special provisions I have ordered may not arrive for several weeks. I fear our voyage must be delayed an additional fortnight, perhaps two.”

“More delays, Brother Erc? There seems no end to them, we must—”

“There can be no more delays,” I interceded. “Listen to me, Brendan. We must sail within the next two weeks whether all of Erc’s provisions have arrived or not.”

Erc glared at me, but turned his attention to Brendan. “Father, do not listen to this man. Again, his words shall lead only to folly. To leave without all of our supplies would spell disaster.”

BOOK: Waves in the Wind
12.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Dead City - 01 by Joe McKinney
Don't Move by Margaret Mazzantini, John Cullen
The Pink House at Appleton by Jonathan Braham
The Astral by Kate Christensen
Star Trek: The Original Series - 082 - Federation by Judith Reeves-Stevens, Garfield Reeves-Stevens