BENDING THE BOYNE: A novel of ancient Ireland (35 page)

Changes. How easy to change things it was; how very difficult to improve them.

Ith, the one Invader who perceived he could learn from the Starwatchers; but like the rest it was only to take advantage. He would be with Elcmar now, plotting together. She felt the gold jewelry on her neck and arms as she gazed east toward the rising sun. Elcmar behaved badly toward Enya and the foreigner. She winced to compare him with what she had learned of Cian.

The sun’s first light showed that it would be a fine day, but she frowned to think what Elcmar and Ith might be plotting. She wondered where she might hide well this gold jewelry, and also the heavy disk of bronze. Her daydreaming abruptly ended. She and Enya must see the Dagda, straightaway. Her elders must hide the starwatching disk as soon as possible. The sun caressed her face and lifted her spirits.

The two women washed and dressed quickly, and the elderly slave helped each to arrange her hair. On seeing the intricate braids looped around a bun, Enya said she was delighted. They shared a breakfast of stirabout with fruit, soft white cheese, and hot infusion of mint and blackberry leaves.

Boann assured Enya they would stop but a moment at the Starwatchers’ village on its swath of green lawn. “We shall ride there on horses if you prefer. Horses travel faster than walking and I know you wish to depart with midsun.” Guards helped Enya mount, the heavy disk concealed under her rich cloak. Two guards rode with them; the others stayed behind with the foreigner, who needed to rest his leg.

They stopped at each of the three great mounds set in the bend of the shining Boyne. Enya marveled at the mounds’ size and construction. When they reached the central starchamber, Enya took care to dismount and to walk the stations of the cursus, and Boann’s admiration for her grew. The Dagda awaited them with all the elders and astronomers. Starwatcher scouts had ejected the Invader sentry.

The daughter of Taranis walked with Oghma to view his most elaborate kerbstones. She did not pretend to understand the symbols, though she said they reminded her of the Morbihan carvings. Resting her hand upon his arm, she gave Oghma special greetings.

“Your time with Cian was well spent. Please accept his gift for the Starwatchers.”

Oghma looked into Enya’s eyes. “We have waited long.”

The elders exclaimed when she produced the astronomy disk. Hands eager, the Dagda stroked the glowing disk. They all watched as he sighted along the solar horizon with it, then each elder held the disk as the group murmured satisfaction.

So it was that Cian sent to his people what he promised.

The Dagda spoke. “At last, something useful has been made of this, this metal.”

Oghma drew himself up on his staff to stand straight and proud. “From the hands of our own Cian, comes this tool of understanding.”

With that sunrise, Elcmar left Ith’s quarters where the two had talked deep into the night. Ith reasoned with the champion, who paced and raged.

“Enya’s guards threatened me with a ridiculous amount that Taranis is after claiming I owe him,” and Elcmar swore that he wouldn’t pay, not any of it. He overlooked Enya’s role altogether.

“You cannot send his daughter back to him empty-handed.” Ith persuaded Elcmar at length to show restraint and release the hostages, the ship, and most of the confiscated gold to Taranis. “You’ll keep Eire that way.”

Elcmar fled from Ith’s dour face, after capitulating. He’d have to pay the venerable Taranis. Or was it Cian who would benefit? That possibility galled him no end.

He had a horse readied for riding. Taranis, the one man on whose good graces he must rely, his strongest link with the Continent. He had given the gold smuggling a tacit wink, not inclined to interfere when he heard Taranis was behind it. Elcmar’s men succeeded from time to time in collecting a share of gold—when they could find it being loaded onto ships, that is. All the while he tried to locate the gold’s source for himself. The amount of gold leaving and its exact route from the eastern mountains remained a mystery, one that had long irked Elcmar. It irked him as much as the damp and creeping bogs on Eire.

When a party of miners had left the Lake copper mine, he suspected those men went off to mine gold. Somehow, the missing Gebann had had a hand in all this. Elcmar recalled sending another agent, after losing Creidhne to the sea, to retrieve Gebann from the peninsula. That agent did return, but empty-handed. The man reported that the impaired Gebann was no longer fit for walking much less prospecting, and grieved still for his daughter. And his spy claimed that Cian had vanished along the coasts.

Where have the suns gone since I banished Cian?
Elcmar thought it over. He survived on the copper trade and by taking a portion of the Starwatchers’ livestock, grain, and milk. He had an occasional windfall by grabbing some of the outgoing gold, where and when he could. Connor settled himself into northern lands, though he claimed to have never found gold there. He had left Connor to his own survival in the north.

I might have untold riches by now if I’d stayed on the Continent, but sure, haven’t the gradual shipments of this and that over the suns bettered things here in the camp?

Invaders had more breeding livestock, including more horses. On this morning he rode a sleeker, taller mount. He’d occupied himself quite happily in the breeding and training of horses over the suns. The spring warrior competition now included horse races, in addition to foot races and a form of hurling. He gave his horse an affectionate tap on the rump with a white hazel switch. He admired himself, his finely woven cloak held with a large bronze brooch. So what if Taranis tallied it up and would make him pay for all the breeding stock and costly goods. Still, he had his horses.

His other pleasure was Aengus, and he rode regularly to see the lad at the warrior training camp on Midhir’s plain. On this dawning, his visit had one distinct purpose. Aengus had sixteen suns as of the past solstice. Elcmar urged the horse into a loping canter, smoother than its jarring trot—trotting always provoked his old rib injury. His head on fire, he wanted a good long look at Aengus.

He pulled up on his horse before the rough plank-and-wattle hall that housed the young fighters, and dismounted more carefully than he might have in younger days.

On this clear morning, as it happened, Aengus was just falling into bed. He had been out watching the sky through the night.

The astronomy lessons continued for young Aengus since his trip to the Storied Hills, and he applied himself earnestly. He took his turn at stargazing, enduring significant discomfort on chill and damp nights. When he could have been carousing or sleeping like the other adolescent warriors, Aengus stayed out under the sparkling stars shivering under a robe pulled shut over his leather leggings and tunic. Sometimes his layered clothing gave warmth enough, but if the night were very cold, his limbs ached. He had no option of lighting a big fire for warmth, as that would impair night vision. Midhir showed him to bring heated stones in pouches tucked under his clothing, and to layer them around his feet, and many a night that saved his vigil.

The astronomy taught to Aengus came in steps that brought him into the realm of abstract concepts, and their use of symbols. He shared the Starwatchers’ connection with the sky and like them, dedicated himself to studying the natural world. He too struggled to make sense of the planets’ wild rides through the night. Did the sky dome move, or the stars? Did the earth move, or the sun and moon? What was a shooting star? He did not know if he could crack any secrets of these motions, but he did not shirk the challenge. The younger, sharp-eyed astronomers still studied the Northshift; Aengus helped his mother and Daire attempt to measure and understand it.

His training as a warrior developed Aengus into an impressive young man. His shoulders grew broad, his arms powerful and long, and his chest deep. It was said his legs were the most magnificent ever seen on the island, legs thick as trees but sharply defined in the muscles of thigh and calf. He had his father’s stamp on his strong body, bright hazel-green eyes, and his mother’s thick auburn hair and elegant nose, her curving lips, and graceful hands. It amused the elders to see Aengus pass through a group of young women like a scythe through tender grass, the slightest glance from him felling one and all. Aengus was renowned to be deeply interested in the Swan constellation that arced in winter skies, so that some of the young women fancied dressing up as swans to disrupt his nighttime vigils. He could have had any one of them, but it was said that he displayed reserve and had not lain with a woman.

He showed courtesy to all Starwatchers, and without the hard edges and talking in circles of Elcmar’s people, Invaders. Young Aengus was highly esteemed among the Starwatchers. They watched him and collectively held their breath, looking to him for signs of their future on Eire. Aengus, the one choice, they began to say of him, Boann’s son.

A friend shook Aengus by the shoulder just as he drifted asleep in his hay. “Get up, lad. The
ard ri
arrives, outside, now. Get up, will you!”

He threw off his sheepskin bedcovering, and doused himself with cold water as Elcmar strode toward him down the line of box beds in the hall.

“Is it up late you are?” Elcmar boomed.

Aengus grinned and covered his face with a bast cloth to dry himself, and escaped the penetrating stare. After he had dressed and eaten a slab of cold meal cake washed down with mead, the two walked out to the sparring grounds.

While Aengus trained with the other young warriors, Elcmar watched from nearby on a rush-seated stool quickly fetched for him by the camp steward. He noticed a fair number of the trainees were Starwatcher boys and that did not displease him. The more young males recruited to become warriors, the better. He could fend off warriors sent by Taranis or anyone with these able and fearless lads; that thought lingered to tempt him.

Elcmar scrutinized Aengus’ chiseled face and body.
It’s a fine physique he displays, sure. And he’s tall enough. My son?
The question repressed for so long tormented him now. He would stay on at Midhir’s hall on the plain, until he fixed his opinion on this question about Aengus. That also avoided his having to deal with problems at the Boyne during that time, always an attractive option.

He observed Aengus practicing on the field over the next sunrises. Elcmar truly enjoyed this time with Aengus, whether at meals, sparring, riding, or trouncing each other at board games played with polished stones. Like him, the lad had an eye for horses and handled them well. Aengus also had a quick mind; if he heard something once, he had it.

Elcmar knew finally that no matter how it might be decided from appearances, he regarded Aengus as his son.
Look at him out there, he’s the coming champion, sure there are no other contenders. No one has an edge on him for power and agility. He’ll never be defeated in a contest, not by any of these lads. Soon he might think himself ready to replace me
. Curiosity got the better of him.

“Aengus, what would you do if you held the Boyne camp?” Elcmar asked him as they ate a good cut of forest boar, the two sitting apart from the other trainees.

Aengus chewed in silence, then answered. “If you let me have the Boyne camp through a night and day, I shall show you,” he said in the Invader tongue that he took care to use with Elcmar.

“And so you shall!” The response pleased Elcmar. At least the lad hadn’t answered the question with another question, unlike his irritating mother.

The two agreed that on the coming Invader feast, Aengus would ride into the Boyne camp at nightfall.

Aengus soon regretted the arrangement set with Elcmar. He’d answered as well as he could. Trading, cattle raids, and contests of strength did not interest him. He had not considered being
ard ri
or what that might entail. He liked astronomy and did not mind that others compared him with the Dagda. From childhood, occasional teasing from other boys about his clouded status bothered him. Midhir taught him to deflect and rise above their taunts. And, like his grandfather Oghma, to think before he would speak. When he mentioned his wager with Elcmar to Midhir, his foster father sighed and shook his silver head.

The worst of it was, that Invader feast night coincided with an important starwatch. At his very next lesson with the Dagda, Aengus learned that a lunar eclipse was imminent. The coming eclipse was known, explained the Dagda, as follows:

“The crescent moon lines up with the Seven Sisters once every decade. Look there, we see the moon and stars nearing alignment. But the moon on this night is only a sliver. At what moon phase must any lunar eclipse occur?”