He hesitated before responding. ‘An understanding of the past. The wisdom to learn from what has come before. Some would say rebirth.’

It struck me that this would be a very useful lesson for Tóla to learn. But I did not say so. ‘Are you sure you don’t know any more of the old story?’

‘I’m sure of one thing, Mistress Blackthorn. I’ve told you as much as I have leave to tell.’

We rode on further, down the track toward the lake. Clouds shaded the sun. I’d best not take too long visiting folk or I might be riding home in the rain with the light fading. Or spending another night in Longwater.

‘Cara loves birds, doesn’t she?’ I asked, trying for a casual tone.

Gormán took his time in replying. After a while he said, ‘Or birds love her. It’s been thus since she was a small child, running about the yard with a flock of chickens at her heels. I could wish those times back, Mistress Blackthorn. They were blessedly uncomplicated.’

‘Life has a habit of getting complicated, and often not in ways we would choose.’

‘Indeed. Mistress Blackthorn . . .’

‘Go on.’

‘Please tell Cara I asked after her. Let her know that I hope all’s well with her, and that I look forward to her return home.’

‘Why don’t you ride on to Winterfalls with me and tell her yourself?’

‘I wish I could, but my duties require a quick inspection of some goods in Longwater followed by a swift return to Wolf Glen. I hope the folk down there can provide you with an escort for the remainder of your ride.’

‘They’ll offer, I’m certain.’ How was it the man was so friendly and courteous, yet had not told me a single useful thing? Was I asking the wrong questions? ‘You must have known Cara since she was a babe in arms.’

‘In fact, Cara was not born at Wolf Glen, but at the home of her mother’s kinsfolk in the south.’

‘Oh? Why was that?’

‘Mistress Suanach was not in robust health. It was considered wiser; her folk had a physician whom they trusted.’

It was another part of the story that felt a little odd. ‘But she died anyway.’

‘Only much later, after they returned home. I remember the day they came back; little Cara sitting up in the saddle in front of her mother, proud as proud. When she was lifted down she staggered across the stable yard on her own feet, pointing at those chickens. Her first word was bird. Her second was tree.’

I tried not to let my surprise show. There was an obvious question, but if I asked it, he might realise he had revealed a little too much. I chose another one. ‘Cara’s mother died not long after that, didn’t she?’