Maeve smiled. "Aye, child. He does. That's something you'll under-stand soon enough for yourself, I'm sure."
"I hope so," Jenna said. "I hope so."
"You will. I know it," Maeve answered. "I can smell the stew. Clannhri Sheehan said that we should come and join them when we're ready. I'll be right back with Padraic. You're sure you're all right?"
"Go on, Mam. I'm fine. I think I'll go out and see the camp."
Maeve nodded and left. Jenna lay on the pile of sheepskins that served as a bed, fingering the smooth surface of the stone.
The Taisteal clan were all gathered around the largest fire, crackling in the center of the ring of tents and wagons. When Jenna came out of the tent, she could feel that everyone was watching her, even if they didn't look directly at her. She felt suddenly out of place and a little frightened. In Ballintubber, she would have had a name for every face. For the first time in her life, she was surrounded by total strangers. These were people to whom Ballintubber was just another village like a hundred others they'd seen, who had traveled from the cliffs bordering the Ice Sea to the south-ern tip of Talamh an Ghlas. Jenna suddenly felt provincial and lost.
She saw Clannhri Sheehan standing to one side, smoking a pipe and talking with one of the men. He saw her, said something to the man, and came over to her. "Ah, m'lady!" He glanced up and down at her as if inspecting a side of ham. "Now, doesn't that feel more comfortable? Here, let me get you some of the stew. Hilde…" Jenna started to protest, to say that she'd wait until her mam and Mac Ard came out, but Sheehan took her arm and ushered her forward.
She could feel the eyes of the clan on her as she came to the fire. She smiled, tentatively, and received a few smiles in return. They seemed to be several families: men and women as well as children, plainly dressed. She heard someone whisper in a voice that carried over the murmur of conversation: "She’s the one with the tiarna… " No one spoke to her-that was also unlike Ballintubber, where strangers would have been immedi-ately engaged in conversation and bombarded with a dozen questions about where they came from, where they were going, what their names might be and who they might be related to hereabouts. Instead, these people seemed content to stare and keep their speculations private. Most of the faces were friendly enough, and she supposed that she could have spoken to them and been answered kindly, but a few stared hard at her, with guarded faces and expressions. Hilde hurried to her with a bowl filled with fragrant stew, a small loaf of bread, and a wooden spoon. Shee-han took it from her and handed it to Jenna. "There, Ban tiarna. Sit, sit and be comfortable." He sat next to her, speaking too loudly for her com-fort. "It’s not much, but the best we can offer. Don’t often have Riocha staying with us, ’tis the truth, not with the Taisteal."
"Thank you, Clannhri," she said. "You’re very kind." She started eating the stew, hoping he would leave her alone, but he didn’t seem inclined to move or to be quiet.
"Aye," he said. "I knew him to be a tiarna as soon as I clapped eyes on him, I did, even through the mud and scratches. We Taisteal have the gift of that, you know, and Clan Sheehan best of all-we can see worth where someone else sees nothing. You’ve had a time of it, I could see, and I said to myself ’Sheehan, you need to treat these people well, who have had a bit of difficulty on the road.’ What with all the trouble just to the north, and the lights in the sky, who knows what one might encounter? Some are already saying that this is the Filleadh, the time of magic come again, and creatures that have lain hidden for the last age will walk again. There are people out already hunting for the clochs na thintri in the old places, as if a spell-stone like they talk about in the tales of the Before could be found strewn about for the taking."
Jenna tried to smile at that and almost succeeded. The stone hidden in her clothes seemed to burn with the mention, so that Jenna was surprised
Sheehan couldn't see it. She placed her hand over the stone, as if to hide it. "I don't know about clochs," she said. "What about this trouble?"
Sheehan's face collapsed into a frown with a sad shaking of his head. He brushed what little hair he had left back with a thick-knuckled hand. Ah, 'twas awful," he said. "Raiders came and burned one village, is what
I hear, and killed several. Then they went riding all over the country, looking for someone from there. Word is they came as far east as the Duan before they turned back. Even came south on the High Road a bit, not more than a few miles from here."
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.