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No clouds The clearest day in a long ti I take power froers to the wounded I use medicine, pastes and potions where they’re all that’s needed Magic on those with more serious injuries-Scota and a few others ere struck by the Fomorii’s fire-blood
The warriors are tired, their sleep disturbed They’ll rest later, but htaway It takes an hour or two for the battle lust to pass They’re drinking coir the battle and the deht’s sleep, only co on watch a short while before the attack That’s hts when there isn’t an early assault
Having tended to the seriously wounded, I wander round the rath, in case I’ve e, ten huts contained within the circular wall, plenty of space for everyone Now it feels as tight as a noose More huts have been built over the last year, to shelter newcoes in our tuath Many of those who lived nearby were forced out of their homes and fled here for safety There are twenty-two huts now, and although the walls of the rath were extended outwards during the spring, eren’t able to expand by ic has weariedlike what Banba had The sun helps but it’s not enough I need food and drink But not coirm That would iveclose to thethe skin over his blind right eye Goll was king of this whole tuath years ago, the ion, with coht becoreat sectors, each ruled by the s None of our local leaders had ever held co prospect Goll had the support of every king in our tuath and ions Then he lost his eye in a fight and had to step down He’s not bitter He never talks of what ht have been This was his fate and he accepts it
But Goll’s in a gloo sorry for the old warrior, I sit beside him and ask if he wants some milk
"No, Little One," he says with a weak smile
"It wasn’t your fault," I tell hirunts That should be the end of it, except Connla is standing nearby, aof the dehs "That wasn’t luck! Goll’s a rusty old goat!"
Goll stiffens and glares at Connla Eighteen years old, unmarried Connla’s one of the handsomest men in the tuath, tall and lean, with carefully braided hair, a moustache, no beard, fashionable tattoos His cloak is fastened with a beautiful gold pin, and pieces of fine jewellery are stitched into it all over Unlike th trousers He was the first h several have followed his lead His boots are made fros He looksthan his father does, and when Conn dies he’ll be one of the favourites to replace hi women in the tuath desire hireat warrior Everyone knows Connla’s an average fighter And far from the bravest
"At least I was there toyour hair perhaps?"
"I was in the thick of the fighting," Connla insists "I struck a demon I think I killed it"
"Aye," Goll sneers "You hit it with a spear In the back While it was running away" He claps slowly "A oes for a spear Goll snatches for his axe
"Enough!" Conn barks He’s been keeping an eye on the pair He always see into trouble The king steps forward, scowling "Isn’t it bad enough that we have to fight de ourselves too?"
"He questioned e," Connla whines
"And you called hiet it We don’t have tihs and extends a hand Connla takes it, but his face is twisted and he shakes quickly, then returns to the sroup of men who are always huddled close around hiain about the demon he speared and how he’s certain the bloas fatal, boasting of his great skill and courage
Later The gate of the rath is open The cows and sheep have been led out to graze Deods be thanked If they could attack by day as well, we’d never be able to graze our anio for a walk I like to get out of the ring fort when s, breathe fresh air I stroll to a small hill beyond the rath, from the top of which I’m able to look all the way across Sionan’s river to the taller hills on the far side Many of the ht I’d love to climb the peaks and see what the world looks like frohts No chance of doing that while the de And for all we know, the demons will always be on the attack
I feel lonely at times like these Desperate I wish Banba was here She was ift of prophecy She died last winter, killed by a de Struck by a Fohts and days to die I haven’t learnt any new ic since then I’ve worked on the spells that I know, to keep in shape, but it’s hard without a teacher Iweaker, when it should be growing every day
"Where will it end, Banba?" I mutter, eyes on the distant hills "Will the de to take over the world?"
Silence A breeze stirs the branches of the nearby trees I study the n there But it just seems to be an ordinary wind-not the Otherworldly voice of Banba
After a while I bid farewell to the hills and return to the rath There’s work to be done The worldup in flames, but we have to carry on as norot the beating of us We dare not let them kno close we are to collapse
After a quick ular chores Weaving coers dart like eels across the loom I’m the fastest in the rath My work isn’t the best, but it’s not bad
Next I fetch honey froht theo They’re er, but not anytrip He slaps two large trout down in front of me and tells me to clean them Nectan’s a slave, captured abroad when he was a boy Goll won hi He’s as much a part of our rath now as anyone, a freefish Some women hate it, because of the suts for signs and o from a fish’s insides yet but I live in hope
The woe So holes I’d love to build a hut froround and raise it up level by level There’s so Banba told s-clothes, huts, weapons-are the result of ic, she said, men and woman would be animals, like all the other beasts
Most of thetheir blades and still discussing the night’s battle It was one of our easier nights The attack was short-lived and the den that the Fo to the Otherworld But they’re drea way frouts to tell htening crooked swords, fixing new handles to axes, sharpening knives We’re the only clan in the tuath with a s Most s up here they find it Goll figured that if we paid a ss would co, rather than wait for a sht Our rath becaan The demons put paid to a lot of normal routines Nobody travels now, unless it’s to flee the Foet a chance, I walk over to where Fiachna is ha away at a particularly stubborn blade I watch hi shyly I like Fiachna He’s shorter than most men, and slier than he looks He swings heavy hammers and weapons with ease If I couldelse, we’re suited in size Maybe it’s because of the naave me, or perhaps it’s coincidence, but I’irls in the rath
But it’s not just his size I like his kind nature and gentle face He has a short beard-dark-blond, like his hair-which doesn’t hide his smile Most of the men have beards so thick you can’t see their
I often drea demons by his side But it won’t happen I’o, earlier than in e don’t mix Priestesses and druids lose their power if they love