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stay?”
    “They do not give me a straightforward response, and I must be careful of asking this too many ways, too many times.” Cian looked as unhappy as the elders, but there it was. “They think we worship the sun. I gather they came here to the Boyne because of our mounds.”
    Oghma retorted, “That makes no sense. These intruders seem fully unaware of starwatching, they show no interest in it, none at all.”
    Other voices rose. “Invaders—boatloads of drunkards and rabble, more like.”
    A woman elder said, “These foreigners practice evil.” She placed astringent herbs in the fire pot to cleanse the air of the word she had used, their word for deeds unspeakable, beneath humans, an offense before the ancient ones.
    All the elders held their breath for Cian’s reply.
    He spoke carefully. “Their making of metals is foreign to us. It is a thing not done by Starwatchers. Yet we use fire and clay to make pots. Fire and stone can make metal.”
    The Dagda said, “Our making of pots and our carving in stone do not serve to kill other peoples. We do not need their long knives! Time will show us these Invaders’ true nature.” He raised his polished mace before the elders. “We see the effects of the intruders, their fouling of streams and the noxious fumes. We must convince them of proper ways on this land rather than merely scold them.
    “And, for the murderer of Sheela, a fair remedy must be agreed. Women shall be respected. If not, these Invaders must leave.”
    The elders spoke in turn, and some called for vengeance for the murder. Cooler heads asked Cian to assist in negotiations. “You have a grasp of the intruders’ language.”
    Cian looked doubtful. “I cannot say whether these Invaders will negotiate. And they have very different views from us about women and children.” He did endorse the elders’ goal of avoiding violence. “But we can do more than wait until the Invaders leave.” He offered suggestions but the elders resisted his ideas, their mistrust of him as palpable as the granite chamber enclosing them.
    Tethra cleared his throat and the elders turned to him. “What you are saying is our island is now connected and no longer protected, by the great waters to other shores.”
    “That is the long and the short of it,” Cian said. His elders sat in uneasy silence.
    “When will you return to us?” asked Slainge.
    “I do not know.” He sought Oghma’s eyes but Oghma turned his face away.
    Cian took his leave from the elders and vanished from the Starwatchers’ council. He blended into the Invaders’ camp, a disappearing shadow as the midsun reached its zenith above the Boyne.
    Tethra of Carrowkeel shifted his gnarled shoulders to look at all the elders. “We thought they would leave us, like other visitors over the generations. It appears these guests intend otherwise. Starwatchers have little means of stopping them from coming onto our island. Cian says more boats will arrive. We must remain calm. So far we do not talk of doing battle with them. But the time is ripe for us to present our grievances to these Invaders—before the summer solstice, before their metalmaking blinds the sun and leaves this land barren. We have long discussion ahead. Something must be done.”
    Outside, all the Starwatchers waited at a respectful distance from the mound. Tadhg paced with the other young men, inflamed by the horrible murder. “We should have prevented this atrocity. We must fight back!” Those scouts made ready to attack the intruder camp with stone axes and stout pikes, thirsting for vengeance.
    The elders deliberated further. When the sun made long shadows from the west, they appeared before the assembled people. The Dagda stood before the Starwatchers in the mound’s clearing, his whorled red mace raised for all to see. The crowd listened.
    “We place restrictions on your movements though we have grave misgivings at doing so. These measures fall more to the women’s disadvantage