BENDING THE BOYNE: A novel of ancient Ireland (9 page)

“Shouldn’t he know better?” she huffed. “Ach, sure. Elcmar isn’t really one of us.” Maedb reminded her companions how Elcmar arrived on a far shore, a few moons before they voyaged to this island. “We should have known better.”

Elcmar’s informers reported that Maedb paced the great hall, greatly affronted by this turn of events, keeping Connor and Bresal captive while she ranted. She complained that Elcmar had brought no retinue to them except one male slave, and few possessions, nothing Maedb was interested in except his wondrous and tall body. Traveling groups like theirs took in well-formed fighters like him, Connor reminded her. Elcmar claimed no tuath and thus he was neutral. It had been easy to choose him for
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since that avoided choosing between clans. Maedb flung a pot at Bresal when he reiterated that the blemished Connor must relinquish authority. Elcmar now had the advantage in their competition to find gold and tin on this island. He would have first pick of the warriors and boats and Connor would have the leftovers, according to Bresal.

Elcmar noted it all with satisfaction.

Maedb roared orders at the slaves. She and Connor must move precipitously from the great hall to smaller quarters in the camp. Maedb’s new quarters in this outpost would be the same size as her slaves’. On her way out she took items from the great hall which were neither her property nor Connor’s, but were in fact tribute to the Invaders, valuables taken by force or as gifts from other peoples they had encountered. Maedb even stripped the furs and drapery from the bed.

Elcmar learned from his spies that Cian moved like vapor inside their walls, absorbing all the rumors and intrigue. He did not trust this Starwatcher, a lad too clever by half again. With their ceremony of Lugh at first harvest, Elcmar would be made
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. He vowed that along with certain others in the camp, Cian would mark that occasion forever.

Elcmar enjoyed the new innuendoes that Maedb circulated, a terrible rumor that it was Cian who murdered the Starwatcher woman, and he did nothing to dispel that rumor. He made sure Cian knew that in the blink of an eye he could be confined or set to hard labor or dispatched to the spirits, at Elcmar’s whim. Elcmar had seen his hunger for Boann and understood him in this matter.
Probably better than your man Cian does himself, sure. Boann saw that red hand… Does she know the truth about that woman’s murder? I’ll soon find out.

Boann entered the Invader camp for the second time, this time as a bride for the champion, and Elcmar compelled Cian to watch the spectacle. There had been a small conflict as to her exact arrival, Bresal suggesting that the bride should arrive with the sunset that began the Invaders’ harvest festival. The Starwatcher elders replied that Boann would arrive at sunrise with the light, or not at all.

The flat drums and wooden pipes announced Boann. She looked very fine indeed on that sunrise. Cian’s heart must be swelling, Elcmar thought, smug. The sentries led Boann, chin held high, through the crowd. Elcmar towered over all from a platform outside the great hall where his men grouped around a white mare.

Perhaps some common ground between their differing customs would be found through this alliance. Although, Elcmar observed, we Invaders do not honor their concept of common ground. It would be tough going if more Invaders arrived, each wanting a piece of the Starwatchers’ island. But he could outmaneuver them all with this marriage at the Boyne. And, find the gold.

He would use this marriage to control the whole island. Elcmar let the smug look settle into his features.

Slaves installed Boann inside the feasting hall on a proper wooden chair with a seat, back, and sides; they placed a rolled fur pillow behind her back for posture. She leaned back in wonder. No more sitting on a stump for her, said one of them kindly. Boann heard the remark but did not understand. It appeared that the intruder women ignored the ceremony outside in that most of the women filed into the great space to inspect her. She judged their comments to be curious if not friendly.

From outside she heard the buzz and drone of the males clustering around Elcmar. Bresal made a short speech that she could not construe. There followed a stomping of hoofs and the horse’s strange noises, and odd shouts until a robust cheer issued from the men.

Elcmar strode into the hall adjusting his tunic, flanked by warriors slapping him on the back and exclaiming, gesturing. Detached from the men, his eyes searched ahead until he found her and he approached Boann. The unmistakable smell of the intruders rose from him. In spite of herself, she shuddered. He gave her an icy glare.

Bresal followed Elcmar inside, cleared an area among the witnesses, and motioned Boann to rise and stand beside Elcmar. Using Invader speech, the shaman married the two before the assembly. Oghma, the Dagda, and Airmid attended her, but those guests were all that Boann expected. Cian appeared but she only glimpsed him through the crowd of intruders. Their marriage ceremony was brief, shorter than what transpired outside in the muck to have Elcmar declared the new champion.

With a stiff flourish, Elcmar seated her and took his tall chair beside hers. At his signal, slaves rushed to lay wood planks over trestles, then spread fragrant ferns on the tabletops. Invaders found seats and the banquet began. Smoked fish from the great river still covered in delicate silvery skin, red meats from forest animals oozing blood and fat, and roast fowl stuffed with herbs and grains were set before them on wood trenchers. Bresal paraded, sampling this and that from different tables and sending slaves for more brew.

A slave brought them dark liquid in a tall cup and Elcmar motioned her to give him a drink from it. She did so, then he indicated she must drink it also. The viscous liquid looked as though it might contain honey and had an odor like roasted nuts. She tried this beverage to wash down the rich foods. Perhaps it would also mask the strong smell from Elcmar, a musky smell like freshly dug earth but fast turning rank. She recognized the stink unique to this camp. Did Elcmar carry that sharp smell from a horse? Boann dismissed her thoughts before they led to dark conclusions about the
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ceremony: surely not. But she smelled a horse.

Late summer berries in cream clotted with pressed mint, a digestive brought with Boann, finished the meal. Across the seated diners, her father’s eyes met hers.
That would be from your mother
, his eyes said.
Yes
, her eyes smiled back at Oghma. They savored the minted berries and in that way her mother’s spirit comforted them at this Invader wedding feast.

A small distance away, Maedb and her party including Connor feasted at a plank table. Theirs was the loudest group, due in no small part to Maedb. At length the two wafted over to Elcmar and Boann, to offer good wishes to the newly wed pair. Connor insisted on kissing Boann’s hand and as he did, nipped at it along the side. Just so. She jerked away her hand and Connor threw back his head and laughed.

This man’s behavior is grotesque, unspeakable; to openly mock me with the death of Sheela, and at my wedding feast.
An immense anger surged, but she controlled herself except for a flicker across her face.

“Do you like my necklace?” Maedb was asking her, laughing. “Ach, you don’t have our language. So sorry!” Maedb wore a huge necklace, hammered circlets of bronze strung on cord reaching to her nonexistent waist. She overlooked Boann’s adornment, the gold disc earrings, a gift from Elcmar. Maedb, and Connor Of The Red Hand as he was now called, waved exuberantly at the crowd and turned their backs on Boann and the new
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.

Elcmar waved Bresal to his side and snapped, “Post a watch at the seagoing boats.”

Bresal lurched away with his task and stopped for another full cup of dark brew.

Her head began to ache in earnest when the piping tune and bursts from the flat drum picked up in tempo. She tried to relax. Their music was lively and followed a similar scale of tones that her own people used to make music. Intruders rose and made toasts with tall cups and she listened while Elcmar returned many speeches. She saw that he ate well, he appeared to be in great form throughout the banquet. Still he exuded the smell of a horse.

Despite the festive mood, Boann felt more unwell. Every odor in the hall assaulted her and she fought nausea. She suspected the rich foods and the heavy beverage. Unsure of the Invader word for water, she was afraid to ask for water and wanted no more of the dark fermented brew.

A commotion erupted, a loud challenge between warriors at the rear of the hall. Connor shouted and followed the contestants outside, and with him many ducked from the hall to watch the fight. Elcmar rose also. He turned to Boann without showing any trace of affection.

When he saw her upturned face, she earned one smile and light flowed into his eyes. He reached for her hand but she shrank from him. His warm expression died. He announced that they were going to retire from the banquet. An awkward pause was followed by strained clapping and calls, words she did not understand. Elcmar gestured for her to rise and take his arm.

She resisted, she was not feeling well, and her eyes searched the hall for Cian to explain for her, but he had disappeared and with him Oghma, the Dagda, and Airmid. She was alone.

Elcmar pulled her to her feet and half dragged her to the sleeping chamber. Rude shouts followed them all the way inside and continued while he secured the door. Boann took one look at the wide bed layered with clean drapes and new furs. She forgot Elcmar and their strange ceremony and fell onto the welcoming bed. The noisy feasting and music lasted well after sunrise, while Boann slept through it all.

Her new life in marriage began when she awoke. Her head ached. The sun raced high above, well past the time for bathing and breaking the fast. Someone had hung up her beautiful knotted overtunic and for that she was grateful. Her undertunic was mussed from sleeping in it, and she quickly found a fresh shift from belongings brought with her. Boann’s cheeks flamed to remember the scene at the causeway into the camp; Tadhg’s silence, his distaste when he handed her packs and baskets over to slaves. He would have waited through the dark, to escort the two elders and Airmid home after the wedding feast, or so she hoped.

Going to bathe outside these walls was uppermost in her mind. Soaking in the cool of their lovely stream, even one sip of its water, would soothe her. Her village could welcome her and there she would take berry-leaf tea with Airmid and Oghma—. In the midst of her leaving the room, Elcmar blocked the doorway.

A smile curled the corners of his hard mouth. A dagger, ruddy like an eclipse of the moon, hung in a thong looped at a leather belt around his waist. Covered only in a loincloth held by his belt, one hand on the knife, he stood proud and naked before her.

He smelled better than after the horse ceremony, but Boann choked. She entreated gently with posture and gestures, proposing that he permit her to exit. She could see very well what he wanted, but how could he not prefer that she first bathe at the stream? Although it did seem that Elcmar had not bathed. Was that to annoy her? Another doubt to be pushed aside. She must try to communicate with this man. Her husband!
It seems he carries a weapon at all times. I cannot help my people if I were killed here.

“I must learn your language. It sounds pleasant enough, like rushing water,” she said to flatter him. She tried their word. “
Uisce
. Water! Will you ever let me by you?”

His eyes went flat and cold, the stare of a forest animal. He purposefully closed the door behind him and slid the heavy wooden bar across it. He looked very handsome, but his thin smile faded. He threw the loincloth to the floor.

“
Macc
,” he cried the Invader word for horse. “I am sovereign here!”

He didn’t care what he had done with the horse, didn’t care that she needed water. He advanced, chanting, crazed. She covered her ears, and backed away and onto the bed.

Boann attempted their new language. The shaman Bresal claimed theirs was the language of the gods; what gods, she knew not and he did not specify.

Bresal took her on an early tour of the camp and she remarked to him, “Look at the mist over Red Mountain. The mist lying on the mountain means bad weather comes.”

He looked oddly at Boann. Later she found that he misinterpreted her remark to mean that she could divine the weather. She meant her comment as a simple observation, but soon the entire camp repeated it and misconstrued it.

Elcmar confronted her. “You’re after upsetting Bresal. It is he who predicts weather from omens.”

“Then I must watch what I say, Elcmar, until I am familiar with your Invader speech. But any one of you can look at the mountain with dawn if you wish to see about the weather.” She pointed. “Where the sun rises, in the east.”

He motioned impatiently. “I leave shortly on a journey. By boat.”

“Where are you going?” She understood: a boat. But his leaving surprised her.

“To the south,” he pointed, and added, “Cian shall accompany my warriors.”

Then Elcmar gave her his flat, hard stare; unfathomable. Elcmar’s sudden journey irritated her, and she bridled that he presumed to take Cian with him. Starwatchers had their liberties and Cian was no slave.

They spent one moon together, each cautious and unbending, before Elcmar left. His demeanor hardened when she told him the Starwatchers well knew who murdered Sheela. Boann kept her temper even, if rather cool, with Elcmar observing her constantly while his men prepared to travel.