I should have been happy. Fann’s baby had been delivered safely. Both mother and son were well enough to be left in the care of Ide and the other local women for now. I’d been farewelled with thanks and smiles and a bag of coppers that I could not refuse without causing offence. It was made plain to me that the entire populace of Longwater considered itself to be in my debt and would continue to do so more or less forever. There would certainly be further requests for my services as a healer. That made three settlements I’d be looking after, in addition to Prince Oran’s household and the folk on the scattered farms around the district. Plenty to do. Plenty to take my mind off Mathuin of Laois and what action might be taken against him with or without my being part of it. Plenty to divert me from the question of Conmael and why he had decided to disappear just when I needed him.

But right now I was a mass of contradictory feelings, none of them related to the good work I had done at Longwater. Strongest of all was the longing to be home, with a warm fire on the hearth and the one person there whom I could really talk to. Only he wasn’t home. I’d seen from halfway across the field path that the place was empty. No smoke from the chimney. No welcome barking from Ripple. The cottage looked forlorn under the rain, its door closed, its shutters pulled to. No large figure appearing to stand in the doorway, ready to welcome me. He’d chosen to stay up at Wolf Glen even though it was still too wet for building.

So, said a particularly savage inner voice, you get a day on your own. A day when you can be as prickly and cantankerous as you want. It’s not as if there’s nothing to do. You can start by making a fire and getting the place tidied up. If nobody comes knocking in search of your help, you can take the opportunity to make some notes in your book, brew some cures, catch up on sleep. He’ll be home by supper time. Since when were you the kind of woman who needed a man in the house to make her happy?