Conlag Right.

A silence.

Right.

Scene Two

Dawn comes. An early morning light.

A young woman, a Slave, is working at the edge of fields, building a dew pond. She hammers clay with a stone bound to a thick shaft. A stave, a bowl and her day’s food in a cloth lie a little way off.

Unseen, Conlag and Daui are asleep, hidden by brambles and rags.

The Slave looks up and stops working.

Conlag stands stiffly. He stretches and yawns. He rubs the base of his spine. He turns to find himself facing the Slave. Both are still, facing each other.

Conlag Don’t get the dogs. No dogs. Woof woof. No need for that at all.

Throats. Blood all over the place.

No no.

He kicks the sleeping Daui.

Daui.

He kicks.

Daui. Get up.

Daui comes out of sleep and hiding with a rush, kicking and punching.

Daui Where are they, where are they? I’ll kick the shit out of ’em, with my own two hands! What?

The three staring, one to the other.

We’re not over your boundary.

Conlag Just a couple of Irishmen.

Daui No disrespect.

Conlag But do not take us lightly! Do not take our powers lightly!

Daui We are not on your family’s fields!

Conlag Travellers in trade. Iron? Wine? So we’re protected. Right? Right.

Daui If we are on your family’s fields, tell us. We’ll go. No insult. No trouble.

Nothing from the Slave. A silence. Daui squats, turned away.

Conlag What’s the name of your family?

The father of your family?

Mother of your family?

Do your fields go to the sea?

Daui The thing’s a slave.

Conlag and Daui stare at each other.

Conlag Yeah?

He nods.

Yeah, I see what you mean.

Eh! Maybe it’ll get us food. Even a heavy weapon. Food?

He points in his mouth.

Axe? Eh?

He makes a slicing gesture, smiling widely.

I think they’ve done that –

He indicates punctured eardrums.

to the ears with it.

Daui No. It’s foreign.

Conlag Kill it?

Daui I’m tired. So very, very tired. And they almost got me last night. Things like birds. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I could have sworn they were there. To take my balls out at the roots. In their beaks. And all the rest of me, liver, bowels, soul.

Conlag I’m smiling at it – it’ll run – get its owners – if we don’t do something – like kill it –

Daui Obviously. Keep smiling and I’ll kill it.

Daui pulls the bag towards him and puts a hand in it.

Three young men in their mid teens run on at the back. They are foster brothers, Brac, Marban and Viridio. They are playing ball. The ball is a sheep’s stomach, stuffed with rag and clay. Viridio has the ball.

Brac Chuck it!

Viridio Now! Suddenly he feints.

Brac What a wanker.

Marban Hedge him

Brac and Marban feint around Viridio to stop him making a run.

Conlag That’s fucked it.