“His anger will pass,” I said. “When I am gone, he will set all to rights here; he can receive answers and dispense judgment, without fear of error.”

“Gone?” said Ben. “What do you mean, gone?”

“We have requested safe passage to the coast; we leave at dawn,” said Conor. “You surely can have no wish to see us linger here where our presence threatens to disrupt your household. We are sworn enemies; your people’s wonder at our sudden appearance will turn soon enough to resentment and fear. I understood you believed this too and that an escort was to be arranged.”

Ben looked around the circle of angry faces, and then at me. “Well, yes,” he said. “That’s true. But—”

“He cannot imagine,” growled Diarmid, who had followed the drift of this conversation well enough, “that we would think of leaving our sister behind?” The room seemed to grow suddenly colder, as Conor passed on this message.

“I—well, it may be stating the obvious,” said Ben, “but he is her husband, after all.”

“Husband?” Conor’s voice cut like a dagger. “What sort of husband is this, that we have not seen hide nor hair of the man, since Sorcha came close to death by fire? Is he afraid to show himself, having failed utterly to provide our sister with protection? How can such a one claim the title of husband?”

Ben was not easily intimidated. “He has his reasons,” he said calmly. “When we first met your sister, she was sick, and starving, and terrified. Lord Hugh saved her life. Jenny was never coerced into coming here.”

“Jenny?”

“When we found your sister, she could not speak. She could not tell us her name. This is the name she was given.”

“And also the name of Harrowfield, it appears. Well, she will keep neither for long,” said Conor. “Is our escort arranged? Dawn approaches fast.”

“All will be ready,” said Ben. “We have a boat at a secure mooring, and a man to take you across. The ride is half a morning; more, perhaps, for you. Simon is seeing to it, and he will escort you there.”

“No, I will take them,” a voice interrupted.

All turned to look at the man in the doorway. He was standing upright with difficulty, his face gray with the pallor of extreme exhaustion. There was fresh blood on the bandage, near the shoulder.

“Don’t be a fool,” said Ben quite sharply. He strode over and tried to take Red’s arm, but was shaken off with some violence. Around me, my brothers shifted. Cormack fingered the blade of a dagger. Liam folded his arms. Diarmid bore a thunderous look.

“With respect, my lord,” said Ben, apparently mindful of the delicacy of the situation. “You should let your brother handle this. I will go too, if you believe you cannot yet trust him. How can you ride to the coast and back, when you have scarce slept these three days or more?”

“I am her husband. I will take them.”