The COMPLEAT Collected SFF Works, page 782
"Sean," he said. "You will move about among the other stalls seeking to buy the freshest food they have to offer. My tastes are simple with no strong preferences, so choose the varieties Declan and yourself prefer. While you have done that, move about in the crowd and speak of me in a loud but confidential voice, as if you were excited and imparting great secrets, about the accomplishments of the great magician and soothsayer who has come among them. You already know well what to do, so please do it once again.
"Declan," he went on, "your hearing is keen and your movements fast. You I would like to stand at a distance, but ready in case one of the visitors to my stall offers me violence. Make it appear that you are adjusting items of your equipment or some such ruse so that it will it seem that your attention is elsewhere. This is because some of the people who will come to me may wish to discuss matters that are confidential, and it would save them embarrassment if you did not appear to be listening."
"I understand," said Declan, turning to take up the position assigned. "I will view each of them briefly on their approach, in case one appears ready to make a sudden attack on you, otherwise I shall listen only for what I judge to be threats against you, then act accordingly."
Without further speech, Ma'el began to arrange the collection of charms, small carvings, and strangely shaped roots on top of his bench.
The first to take an interest in the stall were two youths, clean and fresh of feature, who were a few inches taller than Sean, deeper-voiced, and with the look of brothers born within a year of each other, or they might even have been twins. Their clothing was plain, well-fashioned, clean, and bore no signs of the stains and wear of recent toil so it was likely, Declan thought, that it was rich parents who had toiled to provide the garments for them. They paused at a distance that they must have considered was beyond earshot to talk together when they were not trying to push each other forward or breaking off to giggle nervously like a pair of immature colleens.
"A good day to you, young men," said Ma'el in a voice just loud enough to carry the distance to them. "In what manner may I assist you?"
The one who seemed to be older, by a year or perhaps only a few moments, came closer with his brother a pace behind him.
"You are a wizard?" he said. "A purveyor of charms and potions that ... that would cause others to change their feelings toward me?"
"Of course," said Ma'el, dipping his head. His next words were a statement rather than a question. "You desire of me a love potion."
The timid brother edged forward. "It, it must be a true love potion," he said in a nervous voice. "There must be enough for both of us to use. We will recompense you, but it must not be a phial of colored water."
Ma'el ignored the insult. "Let me comprehend your situation correctly," he said. "Have you each a single object of desire or ..." he hesitated in what might have been mild disapproval,"... do both of you desire no specific object in particular?"
The brothers looked at each other for a moment, then the second one stammered, "We each ... They are sisters, but they won't even ..."
"... talk to us ..." the other joined in, "at least, not for more than a few moments. They say that we're unmannerly, impetuous gossoons who ..."
"Good," Ma'el broke in. "Whenever possible I prefer not to cater to persons who want to shake a tree for whatever fruit chances to fall out. A potion that will bring you true love, that I can provide."
He had their complete attention as he went on, "But for the greatest efficacy it must be supported and sustained by your own actions and words, and the manner in which you converse when next you meet them. Remember that you are young men, not impatient and impetuous and unmannerly boys, and you should not act or speak as if you were. My words are for each of you. Be slow and gentle in your approach, listen rather than trying constantly to impress with a braggart's speech, and instead try to relate interesting rather than boastful things about yourself, and invite her to do the same about her family, friends, life, and future hopes. Above all be unselfish and patient but very persistent. The potion will make her see that you are a serious, responsible, and thoughtful young man who knows what he wants in life and who may already have found it and, if such be the case, one who will work with patience and consideration to achieve his goal. Follow these instructions with care and perseverance, young men, for this is how the potion of true love will work for you."
He reached down to a small wicker basket at his feet, opened it and withdrew two small flasks containing a deep purple liquid with traces of a black sediment at the bottom, which he shook vigorously before he placed them on top of his bench. The brothers stared at them, silent and serious. The first brother cleared his throat.
"The liquid is a strange color," he said. "In water will it show? Has it a taste? How and when should it be given to them?"
"Regrettably, the taste is truly vile, and lingering," Ma'el replied, "and it is not to be given to them. Instead, you will each take it as soon as is convenient before your next meeting with these young women. Place a few drops on your tongues and allow them to remain there for as long as possible without swallowing. The lingering taste will serve to remind you of my other words to you, which are an important and continuing part of the very powerful spell that accompanies this potion."
Ma'el gave a small nod to indicate that the consultation was over and watched as the first brother placed a coin on the bench before him. He continued to look at it without expression until the other had added three more coins before he gave another small nod, this time of dismissal.
As they were leaving, Sean returned carrying a large sack in each hand. He was still looking at their departing backs when Declan joined him to help put away the foodstuffs.
"Those two looked as if they were having deep and serious thoughts," he said. "I wonder what Ma'el told them. And Declan, you look angry. What has happened? What's wrong with you?"
Declan knew that he looked angry, but his anger was not directed at the old man or the boy or even at himself. It was simply that for the first time in many years he was thinking of what his life might have been like if his father had talked to him with the same sympathy and consideration and good sense as Ma'el had shown to those two young men, and he was angry because his only parent had never at any time done so. He shook his head.
"Nothing," he said, pulling his lips into something like a smile, "nothing but an unpleasing childhood memory."
When they had transferred the food into the wagon's exterior storage boxes and draped them in wet cloths to keep the contents fresh, Declan and the boy withdrew to the position and distance stipulated by Ma'el. There they kept watch on the stall while making a pretense of talking together. But a passing listener, if there had been one, would have heard no words pass between them because they had nothing to say to each other not, that was, until the fat, capless, red-haired man with a deeply freckled face appeared.
"I like not his manner," said Sean in a quiet voice. "He moves toward Ma'el, but his eyes twitch about among the other wagons and stalls."
"Nor do I," Declan agreed, reaching back and sliding out his axe. "Your eyes are sharp, boy. That cape he wears is too short to conceal a sword, but there could be knives or cudgels in his belt. Slowly and quietly, let us move closer."
"You're not going to use that frightful thing!" Sean protested, looking around him. "Not in the middle of a marketplace. Why is there never a Gardai about when you need one?"
Having already looked all around him and seen that nobody was paying him any attention, the red-haired man now had eyes only for Ma'el. He advanced toward the stall, smiling and loosening his cape. There was a moment's view of the knife and short-handled stone hammer that he carried.
"How may I serve you, good sir?" said Ma'el.
"I heard a boy in the crowd telling everyone that you were a great magician who can foretell the future," he said in a quiet but threatening voice, "and I want to foretell your future. The credulous men and women among us say that great magicians can turn stones into gold, but I have always doubted that. Instead I believe that they have a hoard of gold or silver coins hidden about their persons or possessions. You may serve me by yielding them up now. And your future, old man, if you do not give them to me without delay, will be to die with your scrawny chest and bald egg of a skull stove in."
Declan moved closer, to a position five paces from both the red-haired man and the stall, and changed to a one-handed grip on his long-axe at its center of balance and began to spin it in vertical circles. It was a difficult trick to do with such a heavy, thick-shafted weapon, and he knew that more than a few moments of it would pain his wrist, but it impressed and often discouraged a would-be attacker. In this case it had the effect of making the other's freckles look black in his suddenly pale face.
"Master," said Declan, giving the man a look of disdain, "would you have me open this one's stupid head?"
"No ...!" Sean began, before Declan silenced him with his upraised, unencumbered hand.
"The boy is a healer and soft-hearted," he said to the man. "He would feel shamed if I did something to you that he, with his limited experience of the healing arts, could not mend. I myself care little what I do to one who threatens the life of our aged and frail master ..."
"No, no, I beg you," the other broke in, beginning to back away. "Have pity. I am impoverished, weak with hunger and needing only a few coins to support my ailing wife and children. I drew no weapon and no bodily harm was done to your master. Please, I meant to threaten his life only with words ..."
The last few of his words were lost as he suddenly turned and ran with remarkable speed, Declan thought, for a fat and starving man.
Declan watched as the would-be robber dodged out of sight between the other stalls and wagons, and sighed. "I'm going soft," he said, "talking like that instead of doing physical violence to him. I suppose it comes of spending so much of my time with a healer."
Before Sean could reply, Ma'el raised a finger to point into the crowd behind them and said quietly, "My thanks to you, Declan. But now this frail and aging body of mine is no longer at risk and I would like both of you to withdraw as before and remain watchful. We have another caller."
Chapter Seven
THIS TIME it was an old man, a merchant wide of girth and halting and feeble in his movements, who said that he wanted not so much to know his own future during the few short years remaining to him as whether or not his three sons would agree to his proposed division of his property between them. When Ma'el asked what manner of young men they were, the other spoke without hesitation and at length about their virtues and vices large and small. But soon his talking moved to other subjects, his business concerns and those people who lived and wrought in the town and who envied him his success. He said that he welcomed this chance to talk to and be advised by a traveler who knew nothing about the people he spoke of and whose advice, therefore, would be more balanced than that of self-seeking friends who might seek advantage from the words he spoke. But it was evident to the listening Declan that the old merchant wanted to talk, and even gossip and relate shameful or humorous facts about others to what he considered to be a safe pair of ears. In time he left pleased and with his own ears filled with Ma'el's good advice, which included the suggestion that his future might not be as short as he expected.
There followed two colleens, bright, fair, open of face, and scarcely mature who, like the young men who had called earlier, pushed each other forward in their shyness. They, too, wanted to know the future but as yet had no clear idea of what they wanted their futures to be. Ma'el talked to them kindly and sent them away with good advice and vague promises that satisfied them. They were followed by another caller who apart from being female, Declan could see at once, was in no other respect the same.
She was a young woman, small, strongly built, and with a confident and competent look about her that was at odds with the hesitancy of her approach. Her bare feet and the hem of her well-worn dress were splattered with the mud of the soft ground, but the shawl around her shoulders was new or at least freshly washed, and her long, dark hair was held in a comb that was worn with an air that suggested that it might be her most valued decoration. Her face was broad and plain with eyes that were dark and lively and, Declan thought, in spite of the hands worn rough by toil and her lowly circumstances, she had a mouth that was no stranger to a smile. It was Ma'el who spoke first.
"Come forward, young woman, and speak of yourself," he said quietly. "Doubtless I look old and strange to you, but I am not a demon, and the passage of years and the kind of life I must lead have robbed me of all my hair. Is there a service you would ask of me?"
The other's face deepened in color and she spent more than a little time in thought before she nodded her head with firmness before giving answer.
"If you please, venerable one," she said, "I—I would know the future."
"Of course you would," said Ma'el. He spent a long moment of his own looking at her without movement of feature or even the blink of an eye, then went on gently, "But would you know what the future holds for you yourself, or for another, or for both of you?"
Her color deepened again. She glanced sideways at Declan and Sean who were standing some thirty paces distant, then she said in a firm but quiet voice, "It is for both of us. I would know if we, in our bodies as well as our futures, will lie together. But how did you know this? Is it because you are a great magician as that boy over there proclaimed?"
Ma'el continued to regard her with steady eyes but gave no answer.
While pretending to be interested in some other person or event in the marketplace, Declan nodded knowingly to himself. Most of the young women like this one who sought the services of a fortuneteller were curious about what the future held for herself and her young man. A magician though the old man might claim to be, he was honest in laying no claims to the possession of wizardly powers while he was simply making a guess that was almost sure to be the correct one. As Ma'el spoke on it pleased Declan greatly for some strange reason that in the simpler trickeries of his craft the other was being honest.
"Child," said Ma'el, "from the look of your eyes and face, it is clear to see that you are deeply in love with a young man. But if I am to look into your future lives, whether they are to be lived together or apart, I must know something of your pasts. First you will tell me of your own past life, and then of his."
She bobbed her head, smiled, and without further hesitation began, "My name is Maeve, a spinster, the youngest and least comely of four sisters, two of whom are wedded, and their husbands and the children to come will share in my father's farm, which is not large enough for all of us ..."
It was a common situation and a continuing tragedy throughout the land, Declan knew, that a family's unsupported young had to find their own livelihoods elsewhere than on the homelands they had known. But it became clear, as Ma'el drew out the words from her and gave his gentle reassurances in return, that this was an uncommon young woman who had a great warmth of feeling and a bright and lively mind that contained no sorrow for herself.
"... He is older by a few years than I," she was saying, having moved the subject of conversation to her perhaps not so young man. "He is a seafarer, tall and strong but ..."
"That is a profession," Ma'el broke in gently, "fraught with many dangers. And temptations. Would not another young man who remains closer to home be a better choice for your future life?"
"No!" said the other with quiet but respectful vehemence. "He will remain true to me, as I will to him, for as long as we shall live."
Ma'el made no reply and she went on, "He is not well-favored in his face, and in manner he is uncouth and even harsh to those around him when his master bids it so. But to me he has always shown gentleness and consideration, even when we are ..."
She stopped speaking as Ma'el raised his hand, then opened and closed it several times as if to relieve a stiffness of age in his fingers before returning it to rest on the bench top. He said, "Please continue."
Declan felt Sean's hand lightly gripping his upper arm. "That was Ma'el's signal for us to move away," said the boy, "and a sign that matters of a personal and intimate nature may be discussed. Perhaps the young woman's deepest and most private feelings will be revealed, and matters which he thinks are no concern of ours."
"I think he is right," said Declan, with feeling. They walked away slowly until their distance from the stall had more than doubled. Their movements were seemingly aimless but they were always able to keep the wagon in sight. They walked together slowly for what seemed to be a very long time before Ma'el gave another hand signal which, Sean informed him, meant that they should return.
The woman was about to leave by the time they were close enough to see the smile that was on her face and in her eyes, and to hear her words of profuse thanks. She drew a small purse from under her shawl and emptied the few coins it contained onto the bench in front of Ma'el. The old man gathered them up, returned all of them to the purse, then gave it back to her.
"Go," he said gently, "and may good fortune attend both of you."
When she had gone, Sean said, "Master, you spoke with her for a very long time and made no charge whatsoever for your services. With respect, this is not the way to gain a comfortable livelihood."
"Fear not, child," Ma'el replied, "I shall not make it a habit. In truth, I should have paid that young woman for the valuable knowledge she imparted on many subjects of interest to me, but doing that would have given rise to much talk and general speculation about the health of my mind, so all I gave her was the best advice that I could give.
"Besides," he went on, in a voice that made it difficult for Declan to decide whether or not the old man was being serious, "a few coins are of little matter to me. You are forgetting the hoard of gold and silver that I am reputed to keep hidden in my wagon."
Sean made an irritated but respectful sound and said, "It grows dark. Shall I light the cooking fire?"
