Holder of Lightning

Jenna shivered with remembered fear. The response must have been noticeable, for Sheehan lifted his hands as if to calm her. "Ah, there's no danger now, Bantiarna. But there's no doubt but that strange things are afoot. In fact, we've heard all manner of odd tales from people coming up the road recently: a party who says they saw a naked boy sunning himself on a rock at the north end of the Lough Dubh, and as soon as the boy saw them, he changed into a black seal and dove into the water. Just a hand of days ago, I was talking with a man who said he was attacked by a pack of huge dire wolves, which haven't been seen in this land since my grandfather's time, and another who was pursued by a troop of wee folk, no bigger than his knee and all armed with sharp little swords. Hilde herself saw a dog as large as a pony, with red, glowing eyes and mouth foaming, and the dog spoke, it did, spoke as plain as-"

"Did the dog talk as well as you, Clannhri, I wonder?" Mac Ard's voice interrupted the monologue, and Sheehan nearly fell, turning his head around to glance up at the tiarna. He stood and gave a quick bow to Mac Ard and Meave, who was on the tiarna's arm.

"Tiarna Mac Ard," Sheehan said. "I was just telling the young Bantiarna about how strange the times have become, even for the poor Taisteal.

Why, one might think-"

Mac Ard lifted his hand, and the man's voice cut off as if severed with a knife. "No doubt you have thought that we would like some of that fine stew, and something to drink if you have it," Mac Ard

said, and Sheehan gave a nod of his head. He scurried off as Mac Ard helped Maeve to the ground and then sat alongside her himself. The gathering around the fire had gone entirely silent. Mac Ard glanced around, and faces looked quickly away. Conversations started up again, the noise level rising.

"Tiarna," Jenna said, keeping her voice low. "He said that Ballintubber was burned, and they’ve seen the mage-lights."

"Aye," Mac Ard said. "No doubt the rumors are everywhere now, maybe even in Dun Laoghaire itself by now. But I doubt that the Connachtans are still in the area, or that they burned Ballintubber to the ground. Rumors grow larger the farther they travel, and the Connachtans are likely to have scurried home by now." He glanced around the encampment. "But it wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve left a spy or two behind, either some of their own or someone who is willing to send word to them for a few morceints. There are faces here I don’t like, and Sheehan talks more than is good for him. I don’t think I’ll sleep well tonight. I won’t feel safe until we’re back in Lar Bhaile."

Sheehan came back with stew for Mac Ard and Jenna, more bread, and cups of water. This time he said very little, glancing at Mac Ard with the expression of a scolded dog and hurrying off again. Mac Ard and Maeve talked, but Jenna only half-listened, leaning back on her arms and watch-ing the fire. She wished someone would sing some of the Taisteal songs, and that thought made her think of Coelin, and she wondered how he was, if he’d been hurt by the Connachtans, or if Tara’s even still stood and wasn’t a burned-out hulk next to the road. She didn’t want to go forward; she wanted to go back. She wanted to see Ballintubber again and Knobtop and all the familiar places. If it were within her power, she would erase the events of the past several days and happily go back to her old, predict-able life.

She felt tears starting in her eyes, and she brushed at them almost angrily. "I’m tired," she told her mam. "I’m going up to the tent."

Maeve glanced at her with concern, but she kissed Jenna. "We’ll do the same as soon as we eat," she said. "I’ll check on you. Good night, darling."

"Good night, Mam, Tiarna." Jenna nodded to Mac

Ard. She brushed at her skirts and walked away from the fire toward her tent.

She didn't notice that one of the men to her left excused himself from his companions and rose, following a few moments later.

Chapter 11: Two Encounters

"BANTIARNA, a moment.

!!

The voice came from behind Jenna, low and gravelly. Startled, Jenna turned. The man was brown-haired with a longish beard, and she found his age difficult to discern-he could have been as young as Coelin or nearer to thirty. His face was drawn and thin, his skin brown from the sun; his strangely light green eyes nested deep under his brows, glinting in the light of the fire. His clothing was plain, but more like that of a freelander than the Taisteal, and Jenna saw a bone-handled knife in its scabbard at his belt. His appearance was that of someone used to a life of labor, his body toughened and scarred by what it had experienced. He stopped a few feet away from her, as if he realized that she would shout for Mac Ard if he came closer. She moved a few steps toward the ring of light from the campfire.

"What do you want?" Jenna asked coldly.