“He was near death, that night,” said Donal. “He could not have traveled far. Besides, we had already established he had nothing to tell. I believe you misjudge his importance.”

“I misjudge? I?” Father’s voice rose. “You are hardly in a position to question my judgment.”

“Maybe not,” said Donal, “but there is a question of loyalty. I have served you well, as your son says, these fourteen years. Since your lady’s day, when this household was a place of joy. I have turned your sons into fine young warriors well fit to battle beside you for your lost islands; well trained in all the arts of war, to defend your lands and bring honor to your name. I have taken the time for them which you could not spare. I have seen your daughter grow up in the image of her mother, as sweet and fey a girl as ever these forests gave birth to. I have drilled your men in body and spirit, and their loyalty to you is beyond question. But now—by the lady, Colum, I must speak out, since it seems there is nothing further to lose by honesty!”

“I will not hear this,” said Father grimly, and his cloak swung out as he turned on his heel.

“You will, Father.” Liam laid his hands on Father’s shoulders, halting him, and I saw Father’s clenched fist rise as if to strike him, and then come down again slowly.

“You find it hard to look at me, and to listen to my words.” Donal spoke with some difficulty. “Believe me, it is even harder for me to speak to you thus, and I do so only because I must leave this place which has become my home. My lord, I never asked for much, beyond my keep and the chance to do a good job. But I beg you now to listen.”

There was a silence. Eventually my father said “Well?”

“I’ll be plain, my lord. I know you well, better sometimes than you do yourself. In all these years I’ve never known your judgment to falter. As your men say, you can be hard at times, but you’re always fair. That’s why they follow you, even to death. That’s why you are master of wide lands from the great forest to the marshes, feared and respected throughout the north. You don’t make mistakes. Until now. Until—”

“Go on,” said Father in the chill tone he normally reserved for Finbar.

“Until you met my lady Oonagh,” said Donal heavily. “Since then, your mind has not been your own. Her will is behind every decision you make, and her influence has blinded you—”

“Enough!” My father’s fist swept through the air and cracked sharply across Donal’s cheek. The master at arms held his ground as an angry red mark bloomed on his face.

“I speak the truth, and in your heart you know it,” he said very quietly. “You have never struck me in anger before. You do so now because of her. She has poisoned your thoughts, and now you lose your judgment. Take care, my lord, for if your men lose faith in you, your lands will not hold.”