onto the fire, then all of them withdrew into the surrounding darkness. I thought that strange but…'
'Your pardon, Captain,' Ma'el broke in gently. 'I am inexperienced in these matters as you know, but is it not possible that the fires on the headland and beach were lit as acts of friendship to guide us into a safe anchorage?'
Seamus gave a scornful laugh that was silenced with a look from his superior officer.
'That is possible, Ma'el,' the captain went on, striving to put patience into his voice and failing, 'but it is much more likely that they are wreckers and robbers, or worse.
Having failed to lure us onto the submerged rocks around the entrance to the bay, thanks to your magic map, they will now try to capture the ship instead of pillaging the wreckage that would have washed ashore of its valuables, including any survivors who could be sold as slaves…'
Ma'el held up a hand and broke in gently. 'You said that they might be wreckers and robbers, or worse. What is your meaning of worse?'
The captain nodded. 'That unnecessarily large and unattended fire on the beach,' he said, 'and the speed with which it was built and kindled after the first signal fire on the headland was lit, suggests a situation where many persons are acting rapidly and in concert. It is, I feel sure, a tactic aimed at attracting our eyes to the flames and thereby reducing our night vision while an attack takes place out of the darkness on our flanks. If I am right, and I usually am in these matters, rather than a rabble of badly armed robbers and wreckers we will be facing an attack by well-disciplined Roman soldiery. Seamus.'
'Captain.'
'We may have little time to prepare,' he went on quickly, 'so many things must be done at once. Ship the oars all but for two on each side. Man these with two men each and use them with blades level to sweep the air at head height above an attacking craft, or to jab a hole in its hull if it is small and skin-covered. Raise the nets and make them loose enough to hamper rather than aid attacking boarders. Ready the arbalest, but warn that it must not be used until an enemy craft can be clearly seen close by, and certainly not if one of our own crew is standing in the way. If a target becomes visible and it should be a skin-covered coracle or curragh, aim for the waterline. It is better to sink the craft and force the weaker swimmers to discard their weapons than to waste such a heavy bolt to spear one man.
'The wind and sea are making noise enough to hide ordinary conversation,' he continued, 'but during the fighting warn everyone to speak softly and continuously to each other in Gaelic. This will aid the identification of friend from foe in the darkness. The Roman soldiers are recruited mostly from peasant stock and speak nothing but their native language, so anyone who talks Latin will be an enemy and should be killed without hesitation. No lights are to be shown by us at any time or for any reason. In case some of the attacking craft lose sight of us, we don't want to show them our position.'
Seamus nodded and was turning to leave when the captain raised a restraining hand.
'Wait,' he said, then looking straight at Ma'el he went on, 'Can we expect any magical assistance during this endeavor?'
Ma'el shook his head slowly. 'I can provide you with a few moments of bright light,' he said, 'but that would be unhelpful because you say that darkness is necessary to your defense. Regrettably, I am forbidden from killing or using violence on any other person…'
'Who by?' Brian interrupted sharply, a mixture of impatience and fear coloring his voice. 'A magician greater than you are?'
Ma'el's features were without expression but there seemed to be a hurt in his large eyes as he said, 'Once in the past I interfered and the result was many, many deaths of innocent people. I will not do so again.'
Declan cleared his throat and said quietly, 'There was the leader of the robbers who attacked your wagon, and he died. With respect, the situation here is fraught with much greater risk.'
'It was you, not I, who killed him,' said Ma'el quietly.
The captain shook his head angrily. 'This is not the time for a religious or philosophical debate,' he said, 'and after all that Ma'el has already done for us I cannot insist that he perform miracles. Seamus, you know what has to be done. Do it. The rest of you, apart from Ma'el and the healer, will do as I say…'
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
From Ma'el Report. Day 112,454…
I am faced with a decision that is also a serious temptation. My two servants, the complement of this ship, and the vessel itself will perish in the attack to come if I do not use my advanced technology, or as they would see it, a blatant display of wizardry, to save them. But again I remind myself of my self-imposed promise never to bring about the deaths of any of these subjects under investigation, and must refrain from interfering when groups of them are, as now, trying to kill each other.
'But the thought of losing two promising servants causes me feelings of irritation and with it a minor level of grief because, although they are little more than laboratory subjects, they are beings for whom I have developed a liking.
'I have decided not to vacate the ship with my traveling habitat and equipment until the last possible moment, in case a miracle not of my making should occur to save them…'
–
Ma'el had moved inside his wagon where he had insisted to everyone that he would be safe; Sinead had been placed in the lee of the vehicle and wrapped loosely in oiled skins to resemble an untidy piece of deck cargo, with instructions to be still and silent, and Brian and Declan had been assigned to guard the stern with whomever could be spared to help them when the attack would develop.
It required a great effort of will for Declan to look only to seaward and into the darkness that hid the projecting reefs growing like rocky horns from each side of the bay. To add to his difficulty, their ship was swinging at anchor so that there were times when the fire and the illuminated area of beach began creeping into the corner of his eye and threatening to dazzle him. Beside him neither the man on the tiller nor Brian reported seeing anything, and he wondered if the beach fire was giving enough light for the attacking craft, which would also contain men with sharp eyes, to see them.
All around him there was total darkness that was broken only by the sounds of the sea, the high wind, the ship, and the soft, occasional voices of the seamen as they spoke their names to each other. Beside him Brian was speaking softly and continuously as he recited an endless, bawdy poem that he had learned somewhere on his travels. The helmsman was appreciating it but Declan felt sure that it was not one that Sinead should hear.
He continued to stare into the darkness but to see only a mental image of her lying on the deck under the wagon like a forgotten sack of foodstuffs, cold, uncomfortable, but safe, unless this coming engagement were to go the wrong way, whereupon the mind pictures of what would happen to her became much worse. He was so busy trying to push those pictures out of his mind that he almost missed hearing the new sound, the thump and scraping noises of a boat making intermittent contact with the stern.
Quickly he felt for Brian in the darkness beside him, found his arm, and then moved his fingers down until he found the other's wrist.
'Brian,' he said quickly. 'Grip my belt at the back and hold it firmly. I'm going to lean far over the rail.'
He was already raising his axe high in the air and leaning forward into the blackness while Brian fumbled and took a tight hold on his belt. Before he let the weapon fall in a wide, circular, two-handed sweep he remembered to twist the shaft so that the heavy blade would not strike edge-on. Captain Nolan would not be pleased with him if he was to damage the ship's rudder post. But he hit someone. There was a grunt of pain followed by the heavy splash of a body going into the water. He allowed the weight of the axe head to sweep upward and then down into another swing.
This time the blade glanced off something but otherwise raised only a great splash of water.
'Quickly,' he called over his shoulder, 'let me go further out.'
He heard Brian's drop to the deck and felt the other's two-handed grip around his belt and continued to swing with the axe blade forward. This time it met more than water. There was a grunt of pain, the sound of splintering wickerwork and the tearing of covering skins followed by the sound of splashing and cries of alarm.
