‘First you say the kings and chieftains won’t want a war. Then you say it’s up to them to do something. That doesn’t make sense. Come on, if we’re going we should go now before the rain starts again.’

I banked up the fire. Then, cloaked against the weather, we set off on the path across the fields to the prince’s house, with Ripple beside us. The bull was under the trees with his cows and did not bother to approach. The sky was heavy with clouds; there would be more rain soon. Our boots gained a rich coating of mud. Small lakes filled each hollow, and ducks swam there. The air was chill.

‘Could be,’ remarked Grim, ‘there’s another way out.’

‘Another way out of what?’

‘The problem. Getting rid of a tyrant without a war.’

‘Oh. Well, yes, I could think of a couple. But not ways I can imagine King Ruairi using. Even less Lorcan, if he’s the peacemaker folk say he is. Assassination. Just about impossible in Mathuin’s case, I’d think, since he goes about surrounded by retainers and is quick to stifle any dissent. Magic. That’s not going to happen. What do the fey care if a human tyrant runs rampant? If Conmael cared he wouldn’t have stopped me from speaking up when I had the chance.’

Grim made no comment on this.

‘Yes, I know, Mathuin planned to silence me before I got the chance to say another word. And yes, Conmael saved my life. And yours. But he doesn’t care about bringing Mathuin to justice, or he wouldn’t have forbidden me to do anything about it, would he?’

‘Just didn’t want you rushing in before it was the right time. Didn’t want you getting yourself killed. For nothing, most like. That would be a waste.’

‘I know that. But when is the right time? And why isn’t Conmael here so I can ask him about these things?’

‘Can’t answer that,’ said Grim. ‘Maybe he’s waiting for the right time to put in an appearance. And maybe what’s wanted isn’t force but cleverness.’

We were nearly at the gates to the prince’s stronghold when a man came riding toward us from the settlement, forcing his horse to a pace that was downright dangerous in the wet. He hauled the animal to a halt and slid down next to us.

‘Mistress Blackthorn! You need to come, quick!’

‘Slow down.’ Grim’s deep voice, calm and sure. ‘Take a breath or two. Now, what is it?’

The fellow gasped out his message. A woman in labour – it had gone on too long, the babe was stuck, the woman was getting weaker, she’d expected to deliver safely without a midwife but something must be wrong, he’d ridden all the way to find me, I had to come now, now –