the cold body and dried her tears, squared her shoulders. Beyond Dowth toward the river, rose the central mound. From the narrow passage where Boann stood, she could see its white quartz glowing in the distance. As she exited the stone portal of Dowth, the setting sun flung deep reddish tints across an unusual lavender sky. A dark bird crossed it above her. She would remember that sky, and her friend Sheela, and unutterable grief.
A select council of elders convened on the next dawn at the central mound, elders from all of the Starwatchers who had learned of the crime. The council rarely unsealed this mound to withdraw inside, preferring to meet openly in fresh air and light under the great oak. Their seclusion signaled the elders’ intent to link with the ancestors for guidance. That brought rampant speculation by the assembled community and visitors, while the elders debated out of sight.
Tethra of Carrowkeel, almost as old and his frame as knotted as the Dagda, spoke first within the council. “The intruders committed this abomination. The nature of Sheela’s wounds, the blatant state of the body, and the smell left on Sheela’s clothing; these all point to the intruders. We have no precedent and indeed we have no name for this mutilation of Sheela.”
Slainge spoke next. The sun had tanned his face while he cleared and plowed his plain, but he looked at the others with clear eyes, in his prime. “The strangers are small in numbers here, but large grow our troubles with them. This boat brought warriors with more weapons. No livestock and but a few food baskets and supplies, the scouts tell us.”
A woman elder added, “We see their invasion of us, of our island and now Sheela’s murder. This terrible deed must be punished! These foreigners cannot be ignored, with their long knives and scavenging ways. Our women will not be taken like beasts.”
“They do call themselves Invaders.” The voice was Cian’s.
The elders exclaimed to see Cian in the chamber. The Dagda held up his hand for quiet, and commanded Cian, “Stand and tell us more.”
Cian rose and told of the intruders’ boasts. The intruders had encountered mounds and carved symbols on stone as they traversed the Continent’s coasts, but the fierce progress they made using their long knives did not lend itself to studying carvings, they said. At their Boyne camp, they dismissed his native skills. They needed Cian, and wooed him, solely for his manpower. He saw that young recruits were a necessity since their rowdy war games routinely injured many of their men. “They have baited me with tall tales of exotic places, at their big feasts with drink and with song. They claim the future lies to the east. They encourage me to travel east with them over the great ocean to see the vast Continent, its wonders and strange animals and snakes. These Invaders have seen it all, they say. They came looking for the sun metal, gold, they call it; like the copper in the southwest.
“These Invaders see and they take. They know little of our ways yet assume that we are ignorant. These are my observations from the winter spent inside their camp.” Cian sat down after this long speech, his hazel eyes serious in a compelling face.
Oghma’s voice arose, angry. “Now you appear before us. How is it that we had no warning from you before one of us suffered violence and death?” Harsh judgments echoed from other elders.
Before he could answer, the Dagda calmed the elders, saying, “Cian has returned with this sunrise and we shall hear him.” The Dagda added dry twigs to the coals in a warming pot.
A murmur of discussion followed around the low fire and they put more questions to Cian. “How many will come?” And, “Why would they want our sun metal?” Cian supplied the elders with much to consider.
The Dagda asked, “Invader, that term they use for themselves. We call them intruders, implying that they are guests here, temporary. How long do they intend to