“Lay a finger on her,” he said very softly, “and I’ll kill you.”

“I’m her brother, you fool,” said somebody in a tongue Red could not understand. I could not turn around, he held me so hard against him.

“He can’t understand you, Diarmid.”

I could not believe it, but Conor’s voice went on, translating calmly. “We are her brothers, and are come to take Sorcha home. We will do no harm, if safe conduct can be granted from your lands. Our sister has no further need of your protection.” For an instant, the arm tightened around me still further; and then he let go. I twisted around to be scooped up into Conor’s arms like a child, and soon they were all around me, Liam exclaiming, Diarmid cursing, Cormack and Padriac already armed with short swords deftly removed from a couple of men who now lay groaning at the foot of the steps. Diarmid was scanning the crowd, sizing up the opposition, measuring the distance to cover. I began to be aware that we were very exposed, up here on the platform, and that the boards not far from where we stood were starting to burn.

“Were you planning to bleed to death or wait for the fire?” Ben appeared as if from nowhere, his hair bright gold in the light from the flames. He bent down and hauled Red to his feet, grimacing. “In case you hadn’t noticed, this thing’s burning. Here.” He put an arm under Red’s good shoulder and began half dragging his friend down the steps. Red looked back, just once. I had not thought it possible for him to turn any paler, but he had; and he had wiped every trace of expression from his features. The left side of his shirt was soaked with blood.

“Come on, Red,” said Ben. “Your mother is here, and your brother. There’s no need for you to stay. Besides, a dead hero’s no use to anyone. As for you,” he glanced back over his shoulder in the general direction of my brothers, “my advice would be to get out of here as soon as possible. Make your way to the house. That should be safe for now. I’d take you there myself, but as you see…” And they were gone.

Cormack made his way down the steps, sword in hand, with Conor close behind him carrying me, and the others at the rear.

“Where’s Finbar?” I whispered, but nobody heard me. The noise was bedlam. Voices shouting, here and there a clash of swords, the crackling and roaring of the great fire as it consumed ash wood and sawn timber and all it could reach. The flames were monstrous now, towering high, edged with sparks of green and orange. The ledge where I had been standing was long gone, the pole burned through. Around us, the crowd surged forward, and there were men with daggers and swords, and fear in their eyes. There was no way through, no route to the safety of the house. My brothers had formed a tight ring about me, but the crowd was moving in, and the mood was turning ugly. There were those among them that had come to see a sorceress burn, and felt cheated. There were those that saw only that, suddenly, their enemy was in their midst, armed and dangerous. And there were Richard’s men, who had certain orders to carry out.