Free BENDING THE BOYNE: A novel of ancient Ireland by J.S. Dunn Page A

taut flesh. He halted.
    The Invader’s horse reared its head and Boann slipped away but she stayed in the circle of stomping, snorting horses. She would not run while this man threatened Cian.
    The tall Invader watched her face. The others waited, deferring to him. He sheathed his knife and gave a sardonic smile at Cian, then at her.
    Furious, she reached out with leaves to press on Cian’s wound, and asked in their own tongue, “Why do you come to me here?”
    “Why are you here?” He motioned her to pick up her trug of herbs and return to the Starwatcher village, “Don’t be out alone again during the day. Or at night.”
    He stepped back to his animal and she noticed a short dagger, bloodied, hanging from Cian’s belt. Was she dreaming this, a bad dream?
    She watched them turn their horses and ride away, especially the tall man with the strange glowing eyes. His striking male beauty unsettled her, just as when she first saw him in the intruders’ hall. He moved with the animal, his long legs wrapped over its stout middle, his feet tucked off the ground. He was not tattooed or painted like the others. His skin had an even fawn color that almost matched his animal eyes. She had no glimpse of the man’s spirit behind those eyes. He stared back at Boann as he rode away, without expression, but her shoulders burned where the Invader touched her. This had been no dream.
    Boann obeyed Cian and made her way home, worried anew for his safety among the warriors.
    She went over the hazy moments when she awoke, the tinkling gear and the horse’s sharp hot smell. Suddenly she realized of the tall Invader: he does not smell like the others. Her mind swirled with the heat. What did this Invader want, what did he know? Had he seen the bite on the man Connor’s hand, that red hand she failed to save?
    Boann remembered Sheela’s injuries and began to shake. These Invaders live as savages, and Cian with them; had she really seen him wearing a metal dagger and what had he done with it? She gagged. Dizzy, she reached her doorway and fainted onto the flags. This time she woke to see Airmid’s face coming into focus.
    “Boann, you must tell me what’s wrong. You who brave all kinds of weather for starwatching and herb-gathering, lying here in a weak pile!”
    “It’s nothing. Too much heat in the meadow. I should have drunk some water at the stream. You know that I tend to get lost in daydreams. That’s all, too much heat.”
    Airmid’s hands explored Boann’s head. “You should have gone with me if it’s the stream where you’ve been. Och, what a great lump coming up on your head! You’d better be lying down.”
    She glanced at her trug of herbs spilling across the stone pavers.
    “Don’t worry, I’ll take your share of herbs with mine to do the infusions or the drying, whatever is necessary for these.” Airmid helped her to her bed platform and settled her into its furs laid over sweet hay.
    Boann acquiesced; her latest brush with intruders exhausted her. As she closed her eyes Cian’s stern words echoed in her head: Don’t be out alone again.
    Five suns passed. Early with the sixth light, Tadhg came to her door. She was always glad to see him, reliable fellow that he was. Since their captivity in the walled camp, Tadhg treated her differently. No words were spoken but she could feel him and smell him at twenty paces’ distance, and saw discreetly that he reacted the same way to her. But she knew Tadhg grieved for Sheela and she did not encourage him.
    He looked as grave now as when they were confined in the dark cell, and he returned her welcome and offer of food with a blunt command.
    “You are called by the elders to the council oak. They await us there.”
    Tadhg would not tell her the reason she was summoned before the elders. He led her toward the council oak, then detoured slightly and they walked the cursus, a path between earthen banks adjacent to the central mound. The Starwatchers used the cursus path