There was a short pause. If you knew anything about Richard, you knew that he would never tell a story simply to entertain. There must be a barb in it, a hidden message for somebody.

“What happened to them?” asked Lady Anne.

“Well, there were a few theories,” replied Richard. “One was that they were on the lakeshore, and a great water spirit blew up a freak storm that drew them in and drowned them. Another, that they were poisoned by an enemy, someone such as I, seeking to weaken their father’s power; poisoned, and their bodies hidden somewhere in that vast expanse of forest. A third, that the boys went out mushrooming early one morning and were taken by the little people. They believe in the little people, in elves and faeries over there, you know. Odd, isn’t it, how they can keep a Christian priest in their house, can say Mass of a Sunday, and still have a head full of superstition and fancy? Yes, it was an odd tale. If it’s true, Colum will have less of the old fight left, less of the will to resist. Now could be a perfect time to strike.” He illustrated the last word with a sharp movement of his arm, fingers pointed. “Oh, and I forgot,” he said, and now he was looking at me where I stood in the darkness by the wall.

“There was a daughter as well. Disappeared along with her brothers. Clean sweep. I heard their mother was looking for them. Or was it a stepmother? Sent scouts out everywhere. But no trace. Just vanished into thin air. Like Simon. Maybe the pixies took them all. It was around the same time, or so I’m told.”

This time the silence drew out longer. I shivered. I thought they must all be looking at me, seeing me for what I was and who I belonged to. Had this simply been a stab in the dark, a lucky guess? How could Richard possibly have stumbled onto the truth?

“That would be heartbreak indeed, to lose seven children at one stroke,” said Margery softly. “A man might turn mad at such a blow.”

“I would not wish that on my worst enemy,” said Lady Anne. “But it pains me to hear you make light of Simon’s fate thus, Richard. I hope you will seek more news of him, when you return there. I cannot believe there was no trace of him at all. But that’s what Hugh tells me.”

Richard’s face transformed itself into a picture of brotherly solicitude.

“I will seek news, of course,” he said. “I have an excellent network of informants, which serves me well even when I am far away from those parts. You’d be surprised what I hear. But I think you must realize, sister, that the chieftains of Erin are as brutal as their men. They do not value their prisoners highly once they have—served their purpose. And Simon was very young. I think, after such a long time, you should not expect too much. Now if, as you say, there were some sign, some clue…”