I made my way around the top of the lake, then along a broad track that ran between grazing fields. I was out of the Wolf Glen forest here and my horse seemed happier with the open country. The sheep had well-grown lambs at foot; here and there farm workers moved animals between enclosures or checked on the stock. There was the same evidence of prosperity and good management that could be seen in Longwater settlement.

Ide had suggested I take Osgar with me, but I’d said no. The fewer folk who were party to this, the fewer I could get in trouble. As I rode I considered how I might best broach the subject of what had happened at Wolf Glen all those years ago. From what I’d heard, Tóla’s wife went away from Wolf Glen so early in her pregnancy that she was not visibly with child, and did not bring baby Cara home until she was old enough to sit up in the saddle and toddle across the yard in pursuit of chickens. There’d have been no need for a local wet-nurse, since a child who could walk would be able to drink goat’s milk. Indeed, she’d be eating porridge or a mash of vegetables. It seemed Luíseach was hired to feed a different infant: Bardán’s baby, Brígh.