Waves in the Wind (36 page)

Brendan nodded. “Ossian, what Brother Erc says is true. While I cannot countenance more delays, we cannot sail until we are fully provisioned.”

“There can be no more waiting!” They paid little heed to the lessons to be learned from the ancient knowledge of their native land. “The signs favor us now during this month of the autumn equinox. To delay beyond another fortnight will mean we begin our travels in Agant, the only month of the year in which one must never travel. It will be a month of thirty-one days, ill-omened in and of itself, and the month of Sanheim, Lord of the Dead.”

“Signs and omens,” Erc scoffed. “Father, Ossian adds no merit to our discussion, but speaks only of foolish pagan superstitions and profane demons. I speak for the welfare of all those who will sail with us. We must not depart before all is in order, and there is food enough aboard our ship to ensure a safe journey.”

“They are much more than superstitions, monk, and had you not forsaken the beliefs of your own people, you would know well that what I say is true. The signs—”

“The signs…the signs! You should huddle safely ashore if you fear so much.”

“I would be wise to do so if you insist upon more delays.” I continued with a smile. “Of course, in good conscience you would then be obliged to repay all of the gold I gave you. Can you do that?”

“You know full well that most of the gold is gone.”

I turned to Brendan. “You demanded a high payment of me to partake in the voyage and now I expect that my opinions will be heard.”

“Yes, Ossian, of course,” Brendan sighed, “but Erc says that all of our provisions have not yet arrived. We must be prudent despite our impatience to sail.”

“Erc said we wait for special provisions.” I faced the monk. “Tell us, Erc, what special supplies delay our departure?”

A bare smile touched Erc’s lips. “Capon by the dozens from the Deisi, barrels of the finest wines from the Ui Maine, smoked trout is even now en-route from the Tethbae—”

I had heard enough. “You demanded gold from me that you might acquire luxuries?”

Brendan was thunderstruck. “Brother Erc, ours is a mission to spread the Word of the Lord God. Christ and his Disciples were but poor men with simple tastes, and yet see how they have changed the world! I thought only to supply our ship with basic foodstuffs; grain, meat, vegetables and the fruits that are nearby and readily available.”

Erc was untroubled. “Father, we embark on a long, difficult, dangerous mission unlike any the Disciples could have imagined. We owe it to ourselves to acquire foods that fill not only our bellies, but enrich our souls.”

“And you have my gold to pay for it,” I chided.

“Brother, there is gold remaining?” Brendan asked.

Erc nodded.

“That is well, Brother Erc. You will fill the ships larders with the common foodstuffs local to this area and there shall be no further delays. We depart for the western isles ten days from today with or without your special provisions.”

* * *

Only two days remained until Brendan’s sailing, and rain pattered on the roof of my rough, stacked-stone hovel. I sat before the fire alongside Goban and Laoidheach. Our voices remained low, though the steady rain would mute our discussion should anyone pass near in the night.

Earlier in the day, my friends had carried out their plan to abduct two of Brendan’s monks, though I had no hand in any of it aside from keeping Brendan distracted. “So, Goban, tell me how it was with the two monks.”

“Everythin’ went well.” His eyes glinted in satisfaction. “The two are now trussed in your old cave.”

“They were injured?”

Goban grunted. “Not at all, though by now they are likely awake with achin’ skulls and thick tongues.”

Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees. “Tell me what happened.”

He nodded. “That I will.” Pausing for a moment, he stroked his chin, and then began. “A small wooden wine keg balanced on me shoulder as I hiked along the stony path above the village. Soon, two monks neared; two good-natured lads I had carefully selected among Brendan’s group and planned to meet.”

A smirk threatened the corners of his mouth as he continued. “The monk named Finnén laughed like the jolly lad he is, as he walked to me, and asked, ‘So smith, what manner of goods are you smuggling today?’

“I slumped unhappily, I did. Oh, I played me part well, if I do say so. I says to him, ‘There was a mistake made. Too much wine was ordered for the voyage. I was told to dispose of this keg, and take it yonder,’ I pointed up the hill, ‘to a man who would have it. It’s an unfortunate thing though, as I fear the man is a drunkard and bane to his family.’

“Finnén proved the clever man I thought him to be and he knew an opportunity when he saw one.” Goban rubbed his hands together as he proceeded with his story. “‘It would be a sad thing,’ Finnén frowned, ‘for such a treasure to fall into the hands of a drunkard. Do you not think so, Brother Aodhán?’

“Aodhán agreed right away, saying, ‘In truth it would, especially since it was first intended for the voyage to carry out God’s work. Perhaps,’ he winked and gave his friend a sly smile, ‘the disposition of this keg should be left to the work of God’s servants.’”

“Wait.” I raised my hand. “Brendan’s monks drink wine as we all do, but I cannot believe their faith would permit these two to drink so much as to become affected by it.”

“It takes little to be affected,” Goban chortled, “when it contains hemp powder.”

“Hemp powder!”

“Aye, when mixed with wine, it puts a man to sleep.”

Eyes alight, Laoidheach leaned forward, a grin conquering his mouth. “You see how simple it all was. I was—”

“Quiet,” Goban muttered. “I’m tellin’ this story and ye’ll make a muddle of it.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Laoidheach cocked an eyebrow, and grumped, “My apologies. Please proceed O’ master storyteller.”

“Indeed,” Goban nodded. “Ye’ll kindly remember Ossian asked me to tell it. Now where was I? Oh yes, now I recall. The monk Finnén grinned and scratched his chin, thinkin’ of the wine. ‘Oh yes, Brother,’ he said to Aodhán. ‘You are absolutely right, and by so doing we would prevent further misfortune from befalling the poor sinner who lives on yon hill.’”

A smile still threatened Goban’s lips as he continued. “The monks responded exactly as I anticipated, you see, but I feigned reluctance. ‘Hmm,’ I said to them, ‘I’m not sure about your offer, Brothers. I do not want to get into trouble by failin’ to follow me instructions.’

“‘Trouble?’ Aodhán was chucklin’. ‘What manner of trouble? Brother Finnén and I will accept the responsibility of ridding you of the contents of your keg, will we not, Brother?’

“‘It is a responsibility I shall joyfully assume.’ I told you they were a good-natured lot.

“So, I relaxed and smiled, knowin’ I had them, you see. I asked them, ‘Would ye then, have me stand the keg on end and remove the bung so that ye might begin your work?’”

Stiff-faced, Laoidheach asked, “May I speak now?”

Goban reclined back, propping himself up on his elbows. “Go ahead. There’s little more to add.”

“Little more? Little more you say because you had little hand in it.”

Goban yawned. “Mine was the most important part.”

“It was no such thing,” Laoidheach growled. “If it wasn’t for me—”

Exasperated, I slapped my knees. “Will you please stop bickering and tell me what happened?”

“Yes.” Laoidheach stiffened his back and glared at Goban. “The sun was still high, and the two monks lay snoring in the grass when I rode up the trail leading three horses. We bound and gagged the two men, and hoisted them onto the backs of the horses. As you know, it’s a difficult ride to your old cave, but we hurried to reach it and then return here at nightfall.”

Though all seemed well, I worried about the monks. “You made arrangements with my friend Beagan so the monks will be released after we sail?”

“Yes, Beagan agreed to travel to the cave on a matter of life or death. Now, we may only pray that Goban and I too will sail with Brendan. But, that wasn’t the end of it. This is the most important part.”

Goban grunted, and yawned again.

Laoidheach ignored him and continued. “Darkness was well fallen when we returned here to the village earlier tonight. Fortunately, rain wasn’t falling as I stood near the open window of a local man who is friend to Finnén. It was then I stood in the dark and assumed the voices of the two monks, and spoke aloud that the man inside could plainly hear me.”

He cleared his throat and again glared at Goban. “The most important part of our plan, you see, was that someone here in the village knew, or at least thought they knew, the two monks feared to voyage with Brendan and intended to run away.”

I smiled, recalling his almost magical skill at mimicry. Laoidheach often amused students at Dún Ailinne by imitating Master Tóla’s voice. “You think the man believed what he heard?”

Laoidheach shrugged. “We will know for certain tomorrow, won’t we?”

Chapter 29

Betrayal

Gray clouds scudded overhead and a stiff cold wind buffeted us as we stood in the village center. Villagers carried bundles towards the curragh nosed against the nearby shore.

Brendan’s voice echoed with the sadness weighing upon his heart. “Brothers Aodhán and Finnén fled in the night? I know them both well; they are men of stout humor and are devout servants of the Lord.” Wrinkles creased his brow as he shook his head. “They would not desert our mission.”

Grim-faced, Erc nodded. “I’m afraid it is true, father. A villager who knows Finnén overheard him speaking of it with Aodhán in the darkness.” He turned to me. “I was told they stole your horses to hasten their escape.”

I smiled inwardly. “Two of my horses are missing.” Goban’s plan had worked as well or perhaps better than we had hoped.

Brendan shook his head, clearly amazed by the actions of the two monks. “What measure of fear must have overwhelmed our Brothers at the thought of facing our quest? Think of it, Brother Erc. We sail tomorrow, and, at almost the last moment, they lost sight of their duty to God. They quailed in fear when in truth they should have seen only glory in spreading His Word. We must all fervently pray for the salvation of their souls.”

“You are right, of course, father,” the ever-practical Erc replied, “but their desertion now threatens our sailing. The curragh is heavily laden, and will be unwieldy at sea. Every man will be needed at the paddles, especially if we encounter storms. For the safety of all, we must find replacements for Brothers Finnén and Aodhán before we sail.”

The priest was unbending, his arms crossing his chest. “You again recommend a delay? I think not, Brother. We sail to convert the Golden Ones on the Blessed Isles at God’s bidding, and sail we shall! I will agree to no further delays. We sail at dawn as planned.”

“But Father—” Erc pleaded.

My time had come. “A moment please. I know two men who—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Erc snapped, “the smith and the bard; both friends of yours, both snake worshippers, and both murderers.”

Brendan’s eyes opened wide, his eyebrows leaping upwards. “What is it you say, Brother? You say Ossian’s friends committed murder?”

Erc turned to me with a smirk. “You thought your friends’ secret was safe, didn’t you?” Then, he faced Brendan, “Yes father, I recently learned that Ossian’s friends were prisoners of the Corcu Duibne, and murdered two Christian warriors so they might escape.”

The priest turned to me, a question in his eyes. “Is this true, Ossian? Your friends killed two men?”

“No, Brendan, it is not true.” That Erc knew of the two slain warriors came as a complete surprise. Yet, truth is a steadfast ally. “Laoidheach and Goban were captives of the Corcu, yes. They were taken to be sold as slaves to the salt mines in the north. They didn’t kill their captors. I did.”

“You did?” Brendan cocked his head. “You did, Ossian? By what right did you kill those men? There can be no excuse for murder. It is a mortal sin in the eyes of God.”

“I killed them by right of warfare! Is it a mortal sin before your god to kill my enemies and in so doing free my friends from slavers?”

“Warfare? You war against Christian tribes?”

“No! Christians war against me! This is no war of kings against kings where men face men in honorable battle. No, this is a war of beliefs, a war of annihilation!” My attention turned to the sound of children playing beside a cottage. It was little notice I took of them, but it gave me pause while I curbed my anger. “Months ago, before I came here, the Corcu Duibne attacked my village without warning. They slaughtered my family and many innocents. Those they did not kill were taken as hostages to be sold as slaves, Laoidheach and my own sister among them.”

“Your sister? Then where is—?”

“She’s dead.” My eyes held his. “A chaste delicate flower, she died in chains, the prisoner of slavers allied to the Christians who had their way with her time and again before they killed her.”

Brendan closed his eyes. “I hear you, Ossian, and yes, slavers are a blight upon all humanity, regardless of the cloth they wear. May God forgive them. I shall pray mercy for their souls.”