Flann leant forward towards the girl.
‘That’s called the capstan. They are winding in the anchor. Then we’ll be off.’
The ship was shuddering now, the wind filling her sails. She seemed to shake with eagerness, like a terrier just about to be unleashed in search of game.
Then the anchor was up and the vessel dipped and began to glide towards the open sea.
Scáthach caught the tang of salt as the sea breeze struck her face. It was a pleasant aroma and the motion of the vessel as it dipped and rose before the winds was exhilarating.
‘Well,’ smiled Flann, ‘the journey has begun.’
Scáthach breathed deeply of the pungent odours of the sea.
‘Now I know why it is some men and women make their lives upon the seas,’ she smiled.
Flann chuckled.
‘You won’t say that when we are hit by a squall or a storm.’
She turned to gaze at his humorous face.
‘You have been to sea lots of times before, then?’
He shook his head.
‘No. But I have been across the sea to the land of Alba for many of my tribe have settled there. I have sailed the stormy straits from Ulaidh to the shores of Airer Ghaidheal. That is enough experience of the sea for me. Each time I crossed we encountered huge squalls and storms and each time I vowed never to set foot on shipboard again. So much for one’s intentions and vows.’
Scáthach pursed her lips.
‘Why is it that you decided to cross the sea to Gallia when, as you say, most travellers from the north simply cross the strait to Alba?’
Flann chuckled.
‘You have answered your own question. I did not want to follow where others go. Besides,’ and here his young face took on a serious expression, ‘I wanted to put a good distance between myself and Aintiarna, the chieftain of the Cruithne. For good reason, too: I fear that Aintiarna would send assassins to destroy me.’
‘But that would be against the law,’ breathed the girl.
Flann’s lips turned down in a cynical expression.
‘Ah, daughter of Eola, you should know that humankind are not a perfect species. They make fine laws and set high moral standards but constantly fail to live up to them. The law says that the people elect chieftains to carry out their wishes. Remember the saying? — Why is a people stronger than a king? Because it is the people who ordain the king, the king does not ordain the people.’
The girl made a slight gesture of impatience.
‘I know the law.’
‘Alas, kings and chieftains sometimes forget the law. They hold themselves above the law instead of being subservient to it. Do not think that all chieftains are wise and honourable. Aintiarna is one such who murdered to ensure his succession and repressed to ensure he stayed in office. Sadly my people put their faith in me to overthrow the petty tyranny of Aintiarna. I failed them and Aintiarna wanted me slain. His Brehons forbade it, for such is the law, and told him that he could only banish me. That he did. But he would rather have me slain in case I became a threat to him again.’
Scáthach did not say anything and after a while Flann went on.
‘Maybe one of these fine days I shall return to the land of the Cruithne. In the meantime, I have to survive. That was why I put it about that I was sailing for Alba when, in reality, I took a horse and rode southwards … and took a ship for Gallia. I am ready for what adventures come.’
‘How long will it take us to reach Gallia?’ asked the girl after a while as they leant side by side against the rail of the ship, watching the bobbing horizon as the sun rose majestically and blood red over its rim.
‘Depends on the weather,’ replied Flann. ‘I have no knowledge of the ocean here but the sailors were saying that we could make landfall at our port of destination in two and a half days.’
‘That’s a long time to be journeying on the sea.’
She peered around the ship.
‘Do we get offered cabins?’
‘Cabins can be dark and smelly places. The air is stuffy and makes one prone to sickness. The deck is a much more comfortable place to sleep during the night.’
Flann came to a halt and a red flush tinged his face.
‘Of course,’ he muttered, abruptly realising that there were times when a woman needed privacy in the company of men. He cursed himself for a fool. ‘I will go to see Goll or his mate.’
Scáthach smiled her gratitude as she stretched at the railing.
She felt a confidence now. Lethra held the answer to the mystery of her birth and Eola’s murder. Of that she was sure. And now her journey to Lethra had begun. Unconsciously she fingered the gold medallion at her neck. She had no need to examine its triskele symbol for that was burnt sharply into her memory. She watched Flann Mac Fraech moving across the deck, walking uneasily as he tried to find his sea-legs. She felt pleased that he had joined her quest. She did not feel so alone in the world. There was something warm and comforting about the young warrior with his honesty and strength. And his handsomeness; she found herself smiling gently at the thought.
Then she drew her brows together in annoyance. That was a conceited thing to think. Had Eola and Buimech fostered and trained her to be a simpering maid who smiled with downcast eyes at the first man who came along? She had been trained for a purpose. She had not been made privy to the secrets of Buimech nor the artistry of warrior craft in order to waste it. Eola had scarcely begun his journey to the Otherworld and Buimech was even now making her ritual fast to seek atonement for his unlawful slaughter and here she was simpering after a young warrior. She felt a shame as she thought about it. She reminded herself that she had a task to fulfil. She was in control,: n command of this quest — indeed, it was her quest. If Flann Mac Fraech wished to accompany her on that journey then she would welcome him. But she was in charge. She must not resign any decision making to him, nor seek comfort from him simply because he was a male. After all, she was Scáthach, daughter of Eola of Uibh Rathach, and she was entitled to wear the golden hero’s tore.
She felt annoyance at the litany of self-justification which drifted through her thoughts. Buimech’s gentle voice echoed in her mind. ‘Come child, those who seek nothing but faults will see nothing else. It is easier to confess one’s faults than to search for the qualities in one’s nature.’ Maybe Buimech was right. Maybe she was being too hard on herself. She sighed and gave herself to the spectacular scene that was opening before her, with the sun now standing above the horizon lighting the sea’s long expanse in a breathtaking blue, causing a myriad lights to sparkle and dance across its surface. The canvas was tight-stretched above her as the winds whispered and chattered through the rigging. High above the gulls still circled the vessel giving vent to their lonely wild cries.
Chapter Six
The weather continued fine with blue, cloudless skies and a firm breeze from the north-west which caused the Nemhain to glide gently through calm waters. It was a pleasant enough voyage, thought Scáthach, as she rested in the bow of the ship, gazing southward for any sign of approaching land. It was now just after noon on the second day of the journey. She had no complaints at the way the villainous looking Goll and his men treated her. She had been given a cabin for her privacy and Flann had been attentive enough … in fact, too attentive if anything.
She pursed her lips. She did like the eager young warrior and, if she admitted it, she felt comfort in his companionship. A long voyage into the unknown when one was alone was a depressing experience and she was grateful he had joined her on her quest. Yet she did not want to place too much reliance on his companionship. She had to be her own person. What was it that Buimech used to say? A tub must stand on its own bottom. Indeed. She must first rely on herself as Buimech had taught. ‘A wise woman will never lose anvthing if she possesses herself.’
She frowned in annoyance, realising that it was not the first time that her thoughts had run on such matters. In fact, several times she found herself secre
tly admitting her like of Flann and then trying to seek refuge in self-justification.
She turned at the sound of a footfall behind her and found Flann standing there. She was about to make a pleasant greeting but hesitated when she saw his face was white and etched with worry.
‘What is the matter?' she demanded.
He glanced around conspiratorially.
‘Scáthach,’ he had lowered his voice to a whisper, ‘go to your cabin and collect your weapons. Do so casually, so as not to arouse curiosity. When you have done so, join me on the stern deck.
She stared at him in astonishment.
‘Why?' she demanded.
‘Why, because I have overheard a conversation between Goll and his mate which was not intended for my ears.’
Scáthach suppressed a sigh of impatience.
‘Tell me,’ she demanded.
Flann came to lean on the railing, keeping his gaze out to sea. The girl also leant against the rail next to him.
‘Well?’ she prompted.
‘I was lying on some rope at the stern of the ship, behind some boxes. I’d gone there to nap in the midday sun. I became aware of Goll and his mate standing not far away. They did not see me. They began to speak about how they would rob us and then throw us overboard before we reached Ga!lia tomorrow.’
Scáthach felt a chill course through her body.
‘They said this? You heard them correctly?’
Flann nodded.
‘But why? I don’t carry sufficient gold to make it worth their while.’
‘Nor I,’ agreed Flann. ‘But I am afraid that our unlamented mutual friend Eccneid has a hand in this affair.’
Scáthach breathed hard.
‘Eccneid? How does he enter this matter?’
‘Eccneid must have followed us, saw us bargaining with Goll for a passage. He approached Goll later and made his own bargain. Goll will pick up a nice sum from Eccneid if you and I do not set foot in Gallia. Whatever Goll can pick up from us before we are tossed into the sea is merely a bonus.’
‘And how does Eccneid know that Goll will keep his bargain? He could just as easily take Eccneid’s gold and let us go as take the gold and kill us.’
‘Apparently Eccneid is not that trusting. He is hiding below decks for he wants to witness your death for he believes in the sweetness of revenge.’
Scáthach let out a long incredulous sigh.
‘And this will happen before we sight Gallia tomorrow morning?’
Flann nodded.
‘What do you propose we do?’
‘Arm ourselves and be prepared to sell our lives dearly. We cannot swim to Gallia from here, so we must hold off Goll and his crew until we come close inshore. That is why I suggest you get your arms and join me at the stern deck at the tiller. That position will give us control of the ship.’
The girl was silent.
‘And you say that Eccneid is aboard? That he is hidden below?’
Flann made an affirmative gesture.
‘Do you know where?’
‘I would imagine he hides in Goll’s cabin at the stern. But where he is does not really matter so long as we are ready for him and his cut-throats.’
Scáthach stretched up, reaching a decision.
‘I will join you on the stern deck as soon as possible,’ she said. ‘Be ready.’
Flann cast a worried look in her direction.
‘Be sure to attract no suspicion that we know their plan,’ he said quietly.
The girl turned casually from the rail and began to thread her way across the deck to the entrance to the bow cabins where she had been allotted an accommodation. She entered her cabin without challenge. Now her pulse began to quicken. She seized and buckled on her weapons and turned out of the cabin again. However, she did not return immediately to the deck but moved down a narrow, dark and stinking passageway which ran throughout the length of the ship to the stern cabins. The passageway passed between the crew’s quarters and the storage areas before entering the area m which Goll and his mate had their cabins.
Moving stealthily, Scáthach hauled herself along in the swaying semi-darkness, trying to ignore the nauseous stench. Thankfully she encountered no one as she traversed the length of the ship.
She knew her purpose and her mind had no qualms as she determined its execution.
She entered the main stern cabin complex and found there were two side cabins and one main cabin, the main cabin being clearly GolPs personal domain. She hesitated before the door and then drew her sword. She swung into the cabin and halted, her eyes searching it in the gloomy light. It was empty.
She paused, intently examining the cabin. It was small and crowded with bric-a-brac. In fact, every part of GolPs cabin was littered with booty of some kind or another, every corner except one where part of the wooden panelling of the cabin stood free from any obstruction. Scáthach gazed at it a moment. Then she moved quietly aside from the door and closed it shut behind her with a sharp click. She had only to wait for a moment before the panel began to swing slowly aside. Someone stirred in the dark recess beyond.
Like a stealthy cat, the girl was across the cabin with her sword raised.
Eccneid stared at her in the gloom. There was fear written on his features.
‘You were warned twice, Eccneid,’ the girl said softly. ‘Twice you went unpunished. Now your crime cannot be ignored. You have murder in your heart.’
Eccneid made to draw his sword, fumbling in the narrow confines of his hiding place. His mouth opened to cry for assistance.
Scáthach drove her blade straight through his heart.
The man’s eyes widened and stared, as if in disbelief, as the life sped from him.
As the girl drew out her blade, the man slumped to the floor, spilling into the cabin.
Her face showing no emotion, Scáthach bent forward and wiped the blade of her sword on the man’s clothes. Then she sheathed the weapon, bent forward and heaved the carcass back into the secret recess and pushed the door shut. Goll would be in for a surprise when he opened that door, she thought grimly.
Then she left the cabin as silently as she came, making her way back through the passageway to the bow cabins and thence on deck. She stared about her. The sailors were continuing to carry on with their tasks. It seemed all was normal. She could see Goll in the well of the ship supervising some task and her eyes sought out the mate. He did not appear on the decks. She strolled easily along the deck, keeping to the far side, away from Goll and hoping that he was so distracted by his task that he would not see that she had her weapons with her and leap to conclusions.
Flann was already standing near the sailor who manned the tiller. She swung up the steps which ascended to the stern deck, about six feet above the main deck. Only Flann and the tiller man were on this deck. Scáthach smiled grimly towards Flann and went straight to the tiller man.
‘Do you value your life, sailor?’ she demanded without preamble.
The man looked startled.
The girl smiled tightly into his weather-beaten face. Sometimes her smile could convey more menace than the smile from features more uglier than her usually attractive face.
‘If you wish to live, you will stay by that tiller and keep this ship on course no matter what may befall. Do you understand?’
Her voice was soft and easy, as if she were discussing the weather prospects.
The man swallowed hard and nodded, not daring to speak lest his voice betrayed his fear.
‘If you do not keep your hands on the tiller and steer towards the coast of Gallia then you will die. And your death will be without worth.’
The sailor tried to find his voice.
‘I swear by the gods that I … ’ he began.
But Scáthach had turned away.
Flann moved across to her with a worried expression.
‘Is it wise to precipitate their attack now?’ he asked.
She shrugged.
‘They will soon find Eccneid
and when they do … ’ She made a dismissive gesture.
He stared at her in astonishment.
‘Eccneid?’
For a moment or two he gazed on her calm features reading the meaning in her steady eyes. Here was no faint hearted girl but a decisive warrior who had taken the war to the heart of the enemy. For the first time since he had heard of Goll’s plot Flann began to wonder whether the two of them might be able to hold off an attack from Goll’s seamen.
The girl was already busy examining the defensive qualities of their position.
‘You take a stand at the starboard side,’ she instructed, observing that entrance to the stern deck was gained by two companionways, one on either side of the ship. ‘I’ll take the other side.’
‘Agreed,’ called Flann cheerfully, moving to the position and making himself ready.
Scáthach had suddenly noticed the ship’s mate scuttling down the main deck towards his captain. He bent over Goll and whispered in his ear. Goll straightened up with abruptness and stared around. After a few moments his dark eyes caught sight of the girl and he glared balefully in her direction. Then she saw he had spotted Flann. A look of understanding crossed his features as he saw their weapons ready.
He shouted orders; Scáthach could not hear what they were from the distance she stood, but the crew hurried in several directions almost immediately appearing with various villainous-looking weapons.
Scáthach cast a glance over her shoulder towards the plainly nervous tiller man.
‘Remember what I said. Leave your tiller and you are a dead man.’
‘I swear by the gods,’ the man began to wail again, but the girl turned back. One man was already running for the companionway at whose top she stood. Without challenging the man, she released the arrow she had strung in her bow and he went crashing back on the deck, the feathered shaft sticking out of his chest.
Island of Shadows Page 7