‘An old woman who used to be a seamstress. Glad to go, I think. She knew the last wise woman, at least I think that was who she meant.’

Grim ladled out vegetable soup. There was bread as well, heavy with grains. We ate in silence. It occurred to me that although Conmael had departed, he was still here with us, an invisible presence constraining everything we said and did. And that made me angry.

‘About Conmael,’ I said as I gathered the empty bowls. ‘He offered to tell me your past history. I said no, thank you. Interfering bastard.’ I made sure I did not look at him. ‘If he makes the same offer to you, I’d be pleased if you’d give him the same reply.’

There was a long silence. When at last I turned in Grim’s direction, he was still seated at the table, but had his head in his hands.

‘Grim?’

He lifted his head; his face was ashen. ‘How could he know?’

‘I asked myself the same question the night he came to visit me in that place and spoke of things a stranger shouldn’t have known about. Where you’re concerned, he might just be making mischief. With me, he really does know. Enough of my story, at least, to offer me a compact I couldn’t say no to.’

‘I don’t like it,’ Grim muttered. ‘Not right. Playing games with folk as if they were a child’s poppets. Why would he do that?’

I shrugged. ‘It’s beyond me. But he did get me out. He did save my life. So I’m stuck with him for seven years, like it or not.’ Now was the time to add, But you’re not – you’re free to go whenever you want. The words got trapped somewhere between my thoughts and my lips. ‘Brew?’ I asked.

‘I’ll make it. You sit down awhile.’

His hands were shaking as he measured herbs, poured water from the kettle, passed a cup over to me. I pretended not to notice. Conmael had a lot to answer for.

14 Oran

14

~ORAN~

Flidais surprised me. The day after Bramble’s escape, my lady emerged from her quarters to take her place beside me at the breakfast table. Her appearance still gave me concern; though lovely as a spring flower in her deep blue gown and cream overdress, with her hair braided in a circlet, she was ghostly pale and had dark smudges under her eyes. I passed her the choicest morsels of food and ensured her ale cup was refilled. She sat quiet as a mouse, with Mhairi in attendance behind her. Her other women were seated with members of my household, and appeared to be enjoying their release from seclusion. Despite the very recent loss of one of their number, their table was lively with conversation.