"Aileen! There's a dead man in the fields!" Lorcan dashed inside the stone hut, shifting his weight from one foot to the other with excitement.

A dead man? Aileen Ó Duinne dropped the garlic bulbs she had picked that morning and stood. 'Are you sure he is dead?"Anticipation rippled through her with the faint hope that the man was still alive.

Lorcan shrugged. 'He wasn't moving. And there's blood everywhere."

Likely the boy was correct. Aileen tried not to get her hopes up. But if he wasn't dead, she might be able to save him.

"Where did you find him?" 'I'll show you." Lorcan thought for a moment, his brown eyes growing worried. 'Will I get into trouble for telling you? He's already dead."

Aileen shook her head. 'Do not worry. You did right to come to me."

It is forbidden, her mind warned her. If her chieftain Seamus Ó Duinne found out, he would punish her. She was not allowed to heal any of the tribe members.

But there was no time to worry about that now. Belisama, please let him be alive.

Lorcan followed her inside the hut while she piled her basket with fresh linen bandages, comfrey and yarrow. Turning, she regarded Lorcan. 'Take me to him."

The boy scampered off in the direction of the north pasture. Aileen ran behind him, past several of the neighbouring stone huts. One of the men stopped his work in the fields, staring at her with distaste. Aileen tore her gaze away from him.

Don't worry about what he thinks, she told herself. You did nothing wrong. Even still, her cheeks burned with humiliation. The villagers hadn't forgotten the bad luck that followed her.

The morning dew dampened the hem of