‘Can’t say.’

That’s all the answer I’m going to get. The man’s all closed up, and no wonder. Morrigan’s curse, think how it would be. A builder, a master builder from what they’ve said, and now he couldn’t even tap in a peg. Poor bastard.

‘You want me to help, Bardán?’

‘Need help,’ he says. ‘Got to finish.’

‘All right,’ I say. ‘I’ll do it.’ Surprise myself, because I’d been thinking I’d tell Master Tóla I needed another day to make up my mind. Thinking I’d talk it over with Blackthorn first, things being so odd up here and all. But I look at the wild man’s sad face, smell his stinking body in its ragged clothes, and I remember Blackthorn helping a big lump of a man when he was out in the woods, in the dark, in the rain, running from his nightmares. ‘Grim,’ I say. ‘That’s my name.’

Bardán nods. ‘Grim.’

‘I’d better go and have a word with Master Tóla,’ I say. ‘Find out what I need to bring with me. Find out about a horse.’ I look at the ruin again, thinking it’ll take a few days just to clear the spot. Hoping they’ve got the stones set away as well as the wood, because shaping stone for a great big house isn’t something I can do on my own.

Down at the main house, I tell Master Tóla I’ll do the job. He doesn’t look as surprised as he should, seeing as the job is as odd as they come. I tell him I want my payment split into three parts. One to be paid now, or within a day or so, one when we’re ready to start on the roof, and the last one when it’s all finished. That does surprise him. Surprises even me. Though it shouldn’t, since we’ve been let down before, Blackthorn and me. But I’m not in the habit of telling folk what I want done.