Grim and I spoke at the same time. He had dismounted and lifted Ripple down to the ground. She relieved herself copiously then headed off toward the goats, which were gathered by the wall in a nervous-looking clump. A word from Grim stopped Ripple’s attempt to herd them.

Conmael smiled at us. ‘The slow way will be best for the journey home,’ he said. ‘Time to reflect. You will need that, however this falls out. I will be present during the hearing. How could I not stand by you at such a time? You may see me, but I will not make myself obtrusive. You will find it is a very small gathering. Small and select. Farewell for now, Saorla.’ He put his hands on my shoulders and, to my great surprise, bent to kiss me on the brow. The touch of his lips was cool. It felt odd but strangely right to hear him use that name, the one I thought I had left behind me. ‘Go armed with your formidable courage, your passion for truth and your strength of heart. Farewell, Grim. Stand by her as always. Would that everyone had such a friend as you.’ He turned and led his horse away before we could say another word. As he moved into the shadow under the trees, he and the animal became part of it. Within a count of five there was nobody to be seen.

It was indeed a small gathering, if you didn’t count the considerable number of Island men in attendance – they were everywhere. I had not realised their number was so great. The place was a grand house with a stone-walled courtyard and a little tower. A nobleman’s house. But I did not know if we were in Dalriada or one of the neighbouring regions, perhaps Ulaid, and nobody was saying whose home had been provided for the purpose. Certainly there were no household guards visible, only the Island men with their distinctive facial markings and their air of calm competence.

Grim and I, with Ripple, were taken through a massive kitchen into a small adjoining chamber where we were allowed to sit and rest. There were armed guards at the door. After a while Prince Oran appeared, a welcome sight, and sat down with us to go through what would happen. I expected him to be surprised to see us, then remembered we had arrived more or less exactly when expected. Oran had Donagan with him. It came to me that Donagan was the prince’s Grim – not that there could ever be another Grim, but he was close. Donagan stood by Oran in bad times and good. He provided the voice of common sense when it was needed. He coped calmly with whatever happened. He smoothed the way. And when he had to, he delivered hard truths. The prince was lucky to have such a friend.