When Flidais had left me, some time before today’s dawn, I had told her it must not occur again. With Aunt Sochla here, not to speak of the large number of waiting women now accommodated in that part of the house, our behaviour could not fail to be noticed. We could not afford to have it become common knowledge. After that first night, Donagan had packed up his things and moved to the men’s quarters, telling me I could call for him if I needed him. He had offered no explanation, and I had not asked for one. That I deserved his disapproval did not make it hurt any less.

‘I’m delighted that you are marrying at last, Oran,’ said Aunt Sochla. I was seated between her and my mother. This was a little unsettling, since both had a habit of asking penetrating questions without warning. They reminded me of a pair of bright-eyed, sharp-beaked birds. ‘She’s a pretty girl, if rather slight in build,’ my aunt went on. ‘Nice manners. Happy?’

I opened my mouth and closed it again. Fortunately, my aunt was not looking at me, but across the crowd of chattering folk to Flidais, who was now speaking to my father’s chief councillor. If my intended could charm Feabhal, she could charm anyone. ‘Of course,’ I said, hoping the general level of noise would conceal any doubt in my tone.

‘No of course about it,’ said Aunt Sochla. ‘Arranged marriage, pair of strangers, a man would consider himself lucky if he found his bride tolerable in short doses, at least at such an early stage. What are her interests? Does she ride? Hunt? Hawk? Or is she the music and needlework kind of girl?’

I was again lost for words. Evidently, Mother had not shared the fact that Flidais and I had corresponded for some time before I’d agreed to marry her.

‘Sochla,’ put in my mother, rescuing me, ‘you can’t imagine Oran would choose a woman who loved blood sports. This is a soft-hearted young lady who enjoys music and poetry. Did you not see the portrait that so took my son’s fancy?’

‘Ah! The lap dog, how could I forget? And has Flidais brought her little treasure all the way from Laigin?’

My mother suppressed what might have been a snort of derision. Sisters they might be, and in agreement on many matters, but each was strong-willed and over the years of my growing up I had witnessed some monumental disputes.

‘She brought her dog, yes.’ I hesitated. ‘But she’s been having difficulties with Bramble since the unfortunate episode at Dreamer’s Pool. Snarling, snapping, a refusal to obey. It’s become intolerable for Flidais to have her close by.’