Now here I am, heart racing, jumping every time the timbers of the barn creak and groan in the wind. A bird cries out in the woods, and I’m in that place of Mathuin’s, hearing Blackthorn bite back a scream, hearing Dribbles sobbing Stop it, don’t hurt me, please, please! A cracking sound – the wind, I know it’s only the wind – and I’m hearing a whip on naked flesh, and worse things, and I’m shaking the bars, bashing my head against them, got to get out, got to save her, got to stop this –

‘Grim.’

Bardán’s voice snaps me back to the barn, the straw, the quiet sounds. Rain falling. Cows breathing. Oh, shit. That was real. It was too real. ‘Sorry,’ I mutter. ‘Was I shouting?’ Can’t have been, or Gormán would have been through that door quick smart.

‘Hitting yourself in the head,’ says the wild man.

‘Shit. Sorry.’ Great help I’m going to be if I let that old stuff start eating me up again. ‘Might stay awake a bit,’ I say. ‘You sleep.’

‘You all right?’

I would be, if Blackthorn was here. But she’s in Longwater, and tomorrow night she’ll be back home, and I don’t think I will be. I don’t think I can be, now, until the heartwood house is all finished. ‘Just need to stay awake a bit. Might do some exercises, warm myself up. You sleep, brother. I’ll watch over you.’

There’s a long quiet then. I get up, start some bending and stretching, know I’ll have to do what I used to do in the lockup, keep myself so busy the bad things can’t find space to squeeze in. Harder with Blackthorn not here. But I can do it. I have to. Keep going till it’s light again. Then face up to Tóla.

I’m standing on my hands in the dark, counting up to twenty, when Bardán speaks again.

‘Never had a brother,’ he says, quiet-like. There’s a sort of wonder in his voice. After a bit he says, ‘You’re a good man, Grim. The best. Be safe till morning.’

Morning comes. Bardán’s still sleeping, curled up with his fist against his mouth like a child. I get up without waking him. Take Ripple out through the sleeping quarters. Gormán’s stirring, Conn is just a mound of blankets. I open the door and there’s a couple of fellows on their way up the hill, heading in our direction.