‘Mistress Blackthorn will speak on the matters covered in her document,’ said Prince Oran. ‘I can vouch for her honesty. She has lived and worked within my holding at Winterfalls for some time and is of exemplary character. My father will also confirm her to be trustworthy.’ He glanced at King Ruairi, who nodded. I was more than a little surprised. I had met Oran’s father during our rather uncomfortable stay at court, but I doubted I’d made much impression on him. The prince must have had a word in his ear. As for exemplary character . . . if only they knew.

Lord Cadhan spoke first. I stood between Grim and Cúan and listened as he described how it had unfolded: the festering dispute over a parcel of land that had never been Mathuin’s; Mathuin’s expectation that he would be granted Flidais’s hand in marriage, his first wife having died, and his fury when Flidais travelled north to wed Oran; Mathuin leading his men-at-arms to take Cadhan’s holdings by force; the blood and carnage; the flight to safety; and Cadhan’s bitter regret that he had not stayed to fight to the end but had been persuaded to leave with his wife while he still could. He gave his account calmly. It was only when he spoke of that last flight and those left behind that his voice cracked and broke.

Lorcan of Mide asked a question about any previous conversation or correspondence between Mathuin and Cadhan over the disputed territory. There had been demands from the one and courteously worded refusals from the other. One of the chieftains asked about the status of Cadhan’s seized property under the law, and the second lawman, Master Bress, clarified the situation.

I was trying to listen and concentrate. Doing my best to stay calm, knowing that with every moment that passed, every measured speech, every furious interjection by Mathuin, I was one step closer to having to speak. With my heart going like a drum and my skin all cold sweat, I’d be lucky if I could put two words together. My head was muzzy; there were spots in front of my eyes.

And here was Cúan with a stool, setting it by me, helping me sit down.

‘Is all well, Mistress Blackthorn?’ asked Oran. With so few folk in the chamber, he could see me clearly.