After the workout, muscles stretched, tension released, and Witchblade back on her wrist, Sara felt like she could get some sleep. Three days of sleeping on the ground and one in a jail cell had not been restful. So when they got back to the hotel, Sara told Ian she was going to nap and asked him to give her a wake-up call for dinner.
That evening they took Ian's rental car to Constable Seanain's home; Sara's was impounded as evidence. On the way they picked up a bottle of wine.
Constable Seanain's home was a small row house in the outskirts of town. It looked just like what Sara expected from watching programs on PBS.
Seanain answered the door. "Welcome, Sara" and he spoke to Ian "I haven't really been introduced to you, Mr. Nottingham. I am Constable Mel Seanain of the Irish Police. My family is charged with acting as guardian of Llan An Cailleach, the Witch's Glove." He stuck out his hand.
Ian took his hand and said "I am Ian Nottingham, personal bodyguard to Kenneth Irons and guardian of the Wielder."
They both stood there, eye to eye, toe to toe, clinched in a "handshake" until Sara said "OK, while you two arm wrestle I'm going to open the wine."
During supper Seanain asked where Llan An Cailleach had been since Cathain. "We know it went to Joan of Arc, but after that we weren't able to follow it. We suspected it went to the Vatican."
Sara gave him the short version. "Yeah, it was stored at the Vatican until it was traded to Hitler. The next wielder stole it from Hitler and used it on the side of the Allies. She was an Allied spy. Somehow," Sara looked pointedly at Ian "somehow Kenneth Irons came into possession of it when she died. It stayed in his private collection until I ran into it, literally, a few months back."
"How do you train to use it?"
"Almost everything I know about the Witch's Glove I've learned from it and the previous wielders. Irons promises to provide me with information but I don't want to pay the price he asks - on my back. Whatever Ian knows - he's not talking. So I look elsewhere." Sara again looked at Ian and he kept his eyes to the floor.
"You have spoken to former wielders of the Witch's Glove?"
"Yes, I've talked to Cathain, Joan of Arc, and Elizabeth Bronte, the Allied spy."
"So what are your plans for Llan An Cailleach?"
"You mean what are it's plans for me! I'll keep on doing police work. The Witchblade will help or hinder as it sees fit!"
Seanain told Sara "We have some information about the John Doe you found on your car. His name is Mark Murray. He is a recent graduate of the Delphi Technical Institute and just started working for Westwind Software, Inc., a subsidiary of Vorschlag Industries."
Sara turned to Ian and reached for his hand but Ian snatched it back. "Sara! I have no knowledge of Vorschlag's involvement in this company. Nor do I have any knowledge pertaining to the death of Mark Murray. I swear it by the Witchblade!" Seanain found this byplay interesting.
After dinner they moved into the sitting room to drink coffee and Irish whiskey. Sara asked "You probably have lots of interesting contacts, as most of us in police work do. Would you happen to know any shamen?" Ian looked puzzled but Seanain did not. He acted as if this was an ordinary question.
Seanain said "Yes" and went to the phone. He dialed a number and was soon talking to someone. "Bob? I've met someone that would like to talk to you. Yes, it's her. Yes, she does. You'll have to ask her. Tomorrow? Fine. I'll get you the hotel. Sara, what hotel are you staying at?"
Off the phone, he said to Sara "Lasar will contact you tomorrow at your hotel."
"Didn't you call him 'Bob' on the phone?"
"Yes, that's a nickname he's picked up. I think you'll like him."
Very soon Seanain and Ian discovered they had a common interest in archaic weapons. Seanain pulled out books on the subject. First they talked about the number of Gaelic words for arrows and the different types. Then they started comparing the relative merits of assorted maces. That was when Sara decided she would call it a night so she asked Seanain to call her a cab. Ian jumped up to take her back but she made it clear that he was welcome to stay. She left when the cab came.
Seanain and Ian continued talking about weapons but after a couple of hours, and liberal applications of whiskey, the subject changed. Seanain asked Ian. "Has she been blooded?"
Ian didn't hesitate to answer. It didn't matter whether Seanain was speaking of Sara or the Witchblade. Both had faced battle, together.
"Yes, I would not speak of her experience but she is very private, you will not hear it from her. She can take care of herself."
"So why are you guarding her?"
"Even the Wielder of the Witchblade needs someone to cover her back, when she will allow it. In what way do you guard the Witchblade?"
"The interests of the Witchblade and the Wielder are not always the same." He seemed to be implying that he would take the Witchblade from the wielder if he thought it necessary.
Ian responded "And your family is charged with deciding that? How do you decide who is worthy?"
"That is our challenge. It has been many centuries since we've had to make that choice. Our family takes credit for uniting Cathain and the Witchblade."
"So do you judge Sara to be worthy?" Ian's eyes went narrow as he watched Seanain for signs of intent to interfere. This was the question Ian had been waiting all evening to ask and why he didn't leave with Sara. He needed to know if Seanain was a threat. He was prepared to deal with him if he was.
"The match feels right." Ian relaxed but knew he would have to always watch Seanain's actions in case the answer changed.
Seanain challenged Ian. "If you guard the wielder but work for Irons don't you have a conflict of interest? You are trained as a bodyguard and I can tell your employer has paid for the finest training . . . but you do not train Sara? Sounds like you're not being as helpful as you could. If you withhold what you know, if you are not friend then . . . are you not foe?"
Ian blushed. Seanain had put his finger on the heart of the matter. Ian would have to choose which master he served. He could no longer serve both.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sara had welcomed the cab to take her back to the hotel. She was going straight to bed, then get up in the morning. She was going to get in sync with Irish daylight. Tomorrow was going to be an strictly ordinary day.
In the cab Sara felt a tingle from the Witchblade, saw a swirl of color. The evening had been tense enough to warrant some reaction from the blade. So she wasn't concerned when the cab stopped at the hotel and she handed money up to the cabbie. Not until he suddenly stabbed her hand with a hypodermic.
"Oh, shit!" She was out in about 3 seconds. Just long enough to kick herself for being so dense.
That evening they took Ian's rental car to Constable Seanain's home; Sara's was impounded as evidence. On the way they picked up a bottle of wine.
Constable Seanain's home was a small row house in the outskirts of town. It looked just like what Sara expected from watching programs on PBS.
Seanain answered the door. "Welcome, Sara" and he spoke to Ian "I haven't really been introduced to you, Mr. Nottingham. I am Constable Mel Seanain of the Irish Police. My family is charged with acting as guardian of Llan An Cailleach, the Witch's Glove." He stuck out his hand.
Ian took his hand and said "I am Ian Nottingham, personal bodyguard to Kenneth Irons and guardian of the Wielder."
They both stood there, eye to eye, toe to toe, clinched in a "handshake" until Sara said "OK, while you two arm wrestle I'm going to open the wine."
During supper Seanain asked where Llan An Cailleach had been since Cathain. "We know it went to Joan of Arc, but after that we weren't able to follow it. We suspected it went to the Vatican."
Sara gave him the short version. "Yeah, it was stored at the Vatican until it was traded to Hitler. The next wielder stole it from Hitler and used it on the side of the Allies. She was an Allied spy. Somehow," Sara looked pointedly at Ian "somehow Kenneth Irons came into possession of it when she died. It stayed in his private collection until I ran into it, literally, a few months back."
"How do you train to use it?"
"Almost everything I know about the Witch's Glove I've learned from it and the previous wielders. Irons promises to provide me with information but I don't want to pay the price he asks - on my back. Whatever Ian knows - he's not talking. So I look elsewhere." Sara again looked at Ian and he kept his eyes to the floor.
"You have spoken to former wielders of the Witch's Glove?"
"Yes, I've talked to Cathain, Joan of Arc, and Elizabeth Bronte, the Allied spy."
"So what are your plans for Llan An Cailleach?"
"You mean what are it's plans for me! I'll keep on doing police work. The Witchblade will help or hinder as it sees fit!"
Seanain told Sara "We have some information about the John Doe you found on your car. His name is Mark Murray. He is a recent graduate of the Delphi Technical Institute and just started working for Westwind Software, Inc., a subsidiary of Vorschlag Industries."
Sara turned to Ian and reached for his hand but Ian snatched it back. "Sara! I have no knowledge of Vorschlag's involvement in this company. Nor do I have any knowledge pertaining to the death of Mark Murray. I swear it by the Witchblade!" Seanain found this byplay interesting.
After dinner they moved into the sitting room to drink coffee and Irish whiskey. Sara asked "You probably have lots of interesting contacts, as most of us in police work do. Would you happen to know any shamen?" Ian looked puzzled but Seanain did not. He acted as if this was an ordinary question.
Seanain said "Yes" and went to the phone. He dialed a number and was soon talking to someone. "Bob? I've met someone that would like to talk to you. Yes, it's her. Yes, she does. You'll have to ask her. Tomorrow? Fine. I'll get you the hotel. Sara, what hotel are you staying at?"
Off the phone, he said to Sara "Lasar will contact you tomorrow at your hotel."
"Didn't you call him 'Bob' on the phone?"
"Yes, that's a nickname he's picked up. I think you'll like him."
Very soon Seanain and Ian discovered they had a common interest in archaic weapons. Seanain pulled out books on the subject. First they talked about the number of Gaelic words for arrows and the different types. Then they started comparing the relative merits of assorted maces. That was when Sara decided she would call it a night so she asked Seanain to call her a cab. Ian jumped up to take her back but she made it clear that he was welcome to stay. She left when the cab came.
Seanain and Ian continued talking about weapons but after a couple of hours, and liberal applications of whiskey, the subject changed. Seanain asked Ian. "Has she been blooded?"
Ian didn't hesitate to answer. It didn't matter whether Seanain was speaking of Sara or the Witchblade. Both had faced battle, together.
"Yes, I would not speak of her experience but she is very private, you will not hear it from her. She can take care of herself."
"So why are you guarding her?"
"Even the Wielder of the Witchblade needs someone to cover her back, when she will allow it. In what way do you guard the Witchblade?"
"The interests of the Witchblade and the Wielder are not always the same." He seemed to be implying that he would take the Witchblade from the wielder if he thought it necessary.
Ian responded "And your family is charged with deciding that? How do you decide who is worthy?"
"That is our challenge. It has been many centuries since we've had to make that choice. Our family takes credit for uniting Cathain and the Witchblade."
"So do you judge Sara to be worthy?" Ian's eyes went narrow as he watched Seanain for signs of intent to interfere. This was the question Ian had been waiting all evening to ask and why he didn't leave with Sara. He needed to know if Seanain was a threat. He was prepared to deal with him if he was.
"The match feels right." Ian relaxed but knew he would have to always watch Seanain's actions in case the answer changed.
Seanain challenged Ian. "If you guard the wielder but work for Irons don't you have a conflict of interest? You are trained as a bodyguard and I can tell your employer has paid for the finest training . . . but you do not train Sara? Sounds like you're not being as helpful as you could. If you withhold what you know, if you are not friend then . . . are you not foe?"
Ian blushed. Seanain had put his finger on the heart of the matter. Ian would have to choose which master he served. He could no longer serve both.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sara had welcomed the cab to take her back to the hotel. She was going straight to bed, then get up in the morning. She was going to get in sync with Irish daylight. Tomorrow was going to be an strictly ordinary day.
In the cab Sara felt a tingle from the Witchblade, saw a swirl of color. The evening had been tense enough to warrant some reaction from the blade. So she wasn't concerned when the cab stopped at the hotel and she handed money up to the cabbie. Not until he suddenly stabbed her hand with a hypodermic.
"Oh, shit!" She was out in about 3 seconds. Just long enough to kick herself for being so dense.