Young Conn’s a bit surprised when we all appear at the door to the quarters. Does as he’s told, though. I take Bardán out to the privy. Wonder if I’ll be having to do that every time from now on. By the time we get back Gormán’s looked out some old clean clothes that more or less fit, and Conn’s warmed up some food. They let Bardán eat it by their fire. But only because I’m standing there with a look on my face that stops them from saying he’s too smelly, he’s too strange, he’s too wild. Conn gives me a cup of mead, which I drink. Offer Bardán a share but he shakes his head. Only wants water. Then him and me take ourselves off into the part with the animals, and the door shuts, and we bed down in the pile of straw. Ripple circles a few times then settles with a sound like a sigh. I’ve slept in a lot worse places than this. Don’t lie down till I’m sure Bardán’s got his blankets over him. He’s still muttering about his daughter, his baby, his little girl. Don’t want to start talking about that, not now. His wife died in childbirth, didn’t she? That’s what he seemed to be saying up at the hut. Lost the two of them. Must’ve heard Tóla talking, or the others, about Cara being missing, and it all got mixed up in his head, brought back the past, only twisted round so it was somehow not Tóla’s daughter but his girl who was lost. Now’s not the time to try untangling it. Not the place either, here in the dark with the cows all sleepy and the night half-gone already.

Rain’s coming down outside again. Hope Blackthorn’s getting a good sleep down at Longwater. Hope Fann’s still well, and the new little one. And the father, Ross. Not that he did any of the hard work. How would that feel, holding your baby son in your arms for the first time ever? That’d be like sunshine and springtime and smiles and every good thing you could think of all in one. But frightening too. Because that baby’s coming into a world with folk like Mathuin of Laois in it. And Slammer. And Master Tóla, who can’t see a real man under a coating of dirt and sorrow and madness. A man would need to be brave to be a father.