James White - The First Protector

"1 see," said Declan. "And the second reason?"

"It would have been unkind of me to spoil the transaction's entertainment value for the proprietor. But a good argument makes me hungry. Please be my guests. Further down the street there is a place that serves very good food. There you can put down those heavy bags, eat, shelter from the midday heat and, of course, have a pleasant conversation."

About Ma'el, Declan added with silent certainty. At home it was the custom for bards to sing for their supper or, indeed, for any other meal. Not for the first time Brian was expecting them to talk for it.

They were replete with a variety of exotic, highly spiced dishes that criminally assaulted the tongue but still compared favorably with shipboard fare when Brian began to exact payment.

Pleasantly he said, "I suggest we use the Gaelic, an uncommon language here, to foil would-be eavesdroppers. Your master's explanation to Constantine of what he was trying to do for those young women in the catacombs intrigues me, but there is a question at the back of my mind, or perhaps it is an inconsistency, that I cannot tease out into the light As one who took part in many of these initiations, perhaps you could help me to clarify it, my lady."

Giving an impressionable near-child like Sinead such a grown-up title was an unecessary and inaccurate form of respect, Declan thought cynically, but then words were Brian's most potent and subtle weapon. He watched the impatience that had begun to cloud her face clear into a smile at the compliment.

"Of course," she said. "But I have already described the rituals to you many times and told you everything I know about them. My apologies, but I know and can tell you no more."

"Is it possible," said Brian, "that you know or have seen or felt something that you have forgotten or thought too unimportant to be mentioned? Would you indulge me again, my lady, and describe all you saw, heard, felt, or thought about the ritual?"

Sinead nodded, closed her eyes to shut out external distractions and began to speak. She described Ma'el's opening instructions when he had told everyone to keep their eyes on the flame of the candle they each held so that they would see nothing else, and listen to his words and hear nothing else, and feel only the touch of his hands on their heads and any other sensation that might come to them because of his words and touch. His words had been gentle and encouraging and about the gift of future sight that they would pass on to their children and children's children who would pass what they saw or learned back to them, the possessors of the original gift. As women, he had told them, those who survived past the period of birthing carried within themselves an unbroken line of life and a gradually diminishing awareness stretching forward to the ultimate end of their kind. They should concentrate their minds so as to learn and feel and know the truth of what he was saying to them.

"… When he laid his hands on me," she went on with an edge of self-reproach in her voice, "they felt as light and fragile as a bird's wings. Many of the others tried to describe the strange visions that came to them of events and people they knew or did not know and which frightened and confused some of them. If they spoke about them in public I could understand why they were not accepted as soothsayers. I wanted it to happen to me for Ma'el's sake, but I myself did not see or feel anything except for an itching inside my head. I fear that I am a grave disappointment to Ma'el, and to you.

"Perhaps," she added with a laugh that had no humor in it, "the gift is not for a woman who dresses as a man."

Brian hesitated for a moment, and when he spoke his tone was sympathetic and with an apology in it as if for a hurt to come. "I speak truth rather than flattery," he said very seriously. "You are, or are soon to become, a comely young woman, fair of face and lively of wit, and one who in time any man would count himself fortunate indeed to win. But your master has said many times that his gift of future sight comes back to you through your descendants. I am truly sorry, my lady, but the reason you have not received the gift may be that never in your lifetime will you bear children."

"I have no intention of bearing…!" Sinead began angrily, then she moderated her tone and went on, 'There were events, and injuries, in my past that may have rendered me barren. This I have accepted. My anger is not directed at you, Brian, because in your way you are a kindly and thoughtful man. I know that your words can be subtle and deadly weapons, but there are also times, as now, when you try to use them as instruments of healing. I thank you for that, but let us return to a less painful subject."

Brian gave her a sympathetic smile but remained silent. Declan said, "We could talk about you, Brian. Or Ma'el, a man who is…"

There was the sound of dishes and eating utensils rattling as Brian slapped the tabletop. "That," he burst out, "is the inconsistency that has been nibbling at my brain. The ability to see into the future, Ma'el tells us, is the prerogative of a direct succession of women. But he is a man who has, but should not have, the gift.

"Are we sure," he added after a pause, "that he is in fact a man?"

Declan stared at him, feeling his jaw drop in surprise, and Sinead's mouth was open, too. But before either of them could speak, Brian went on, "With respect, my lady, you have already said that Ma'el treated you with kindness, protected you, and did not, well, take advantage of you as some old and dishonorable men would have done. He may be a kindly old man, but his actions where you are concerned, if he is in truth a he, are more befitting those of a kindly woman and mother. Would you agree?"

They both stared at him, too astonished to speak. Brian looked at Sinead and gave an uncomfortable laugh.

"My lady," he said, "I know the idea is completely ridiculous, so let us change to a subject less hurtful to you. How best I can help you spend the rest of this day?"

When Sinead did not reply, Declan said, "We are strangers here to whom everything is new. Go where you will and we will be pleased to follow wherever you lead."

"You speak too hastily, Declan," he replied, but his eyes were looking an apology at Sinead. "My lead would not take you to places of scenic interest or entertainment but to a museum, an establishment filled with scrolls, drawings, and relics of the past that is said to contain material salvaged from the great Alexandria Library before the fire had totally destroyed it. You would not, I think, find my search among the dusty chambers and stacks particularly interesting."

Sinead was making a determined attempt to lighten her mood. She smiled and said, "The degree of interest would depend on the object of your search. What are you searching for?"

Looking relieved and pleased, Brian returned her smile. "Knowledge," he said, "I am a seeker after knowledge but, unlike your master, I have never been averse to making a profit from whatever I learn."

An almost boyish enthusiasm crept into his voice as he went on, 'This time I am searching for the drawings, calculations, and perhaps a model of the device called an aelophile that was invented by Hero of Alexandria, a mathematician of the time of the Sixth Ptolemy. It was said to be comprised of a spherical bronze kettle mounted on and free to rotate horizontally around two metal supports. The kettle was pierced at diametrically opposed sides of its circumference by two small, short lengths of pipe that were angled in opposite directions. When it was partly filled with water and a fire lit under it, steam puffed from the two small, angled pipes and this caused the spherical kettle to spin on its supports, quite rapidly, it was said.

"Hero himself did not think much of his device at first," Brian went on, "which he insisted had been built solely to prove to himself that heat could be converted into rotary movement, but later he suggested that a larger device might be capable of pumping water or perhaps moving the wheels of chariots. When his Pharaoh witnessed a demonstration, his response was that it hissed like a nest of vipers and filled the room with steam, and that slaves and beasts could fetch water and pull vehicles much more cleanly and cheaply and that Hero should forget the idea, which he did.