‘Of course not! If I found myself back there, I would make the same choice again.’

‘Tell me why.’

‘Mistress Blackthorn!’ Cionnaola calls from up on the higher path, keeping it as quiet as he can. ‘Time’s passing.’

‘Tell me why,’ Conmael says again. Sounds as if her answer might be pretty important.

‘Speaking out against Mathuin,’ she says, ‘helping bring him to justice – not long ago I would have thought nothing could possibly be more important. And it is important. I still want to do it. Need to. But not if it means losing Grim. That would be too high a price to pay. We’re a team. If I go to this hearing I need him to come with me. And if I don’t go I need him anyway. To walk along beside me. To be there. To stop me from . . . losing myself.’ She runs out of words. And me, I’m thinking I might cry, right here in front of Conmael and Cionnaola.

‘So, in a human mind,’ Conmael says, calm as calm, ‘the welfare of a friend weighs more than a greater cause such as the removal of a tyrant? Is not that decision somewhat selfish?’

‘I don’t care a rat’s balls if it’s selfish!’ Blackthorn’s angry now. Got a fierce look I know well. ‘And it’s one particular human mind I’m talking about; mine. I’m not making some grand philosophical statement on behalf of all humankind! Don’t imagine it was an easy choice. Don’t ever think it didn’t hurt. Mathuin burned my husband and son alive. Not going to testify in person felt like betraying them. But in the end I didn’t hesitate. If your friend’s in deep trouble, you save him. He’s saved me more times than I can count. He’s stood by me through everything. Even when I was a bitter, cantankerous creature unfit for anyone’s company.’ She stops to suck in a breath. She’s crying too, messily now, with her nose running. ‘Maybe I should mention that my written testimony has gone south under armed guard, and that if I’m not there, someone will read it out at the hearing. I have faith that there’s sufficient evidence for Mathuin to be found guilty without my being there in person. I don’t believe Prince Oran or the king of Dalriada or the High King would have sanctioned this venture if it didn’t have a strong chance of success.’

‘So you need not go,’ says Conmael, still perfectly calm.

‘I do need to go,’ Blackthorn says. ‘Not for the greater cause. But for me. For Grim. For the poor souls who shared that lockup with us day after miserable day and night after endless night. For the women who were brave enough to ask me for help. Who trusted me with their stories.’