‘Mathuin has done ill deeds,’ Conmael said. ‘He’s also a powerful chieftain who enjoys the support of many fellow leaders. You are a prisoner, without family, without resources, with no home to go to and no friends to help you. Even if you did stand up at the council, even if you did make these accusations before the assembled chieftains, who would take your word against Mathuin’s? All you would achieve is your own destruction. So let us set a limit on the number of times you may break the rules. Five, I think.’

‘Or what happens?’

‘Or you find yourself back here, filthy, worn down, defeated, with the executioner knocking on your door. And this time, no reprieve.’

I gaped at him. ‘Are you telling me you can turn back time?’ He was fey, no doubt of that, and the fey had powerful magic. I had seen it, long ago. But this – the fellow must be out of his mind.

Conmael’s gaze was wintry. ‘Try to exact vengeance now, and you will surely fail. You are no fool; in your heart, you know that is simple truth. Exercise patience and self-control for the period I have set out, and you may have some small chance of success later. My proposal is your only way forward. It would be a mistake to believe I cannot, or will not, do exactly what I have told you.’

‘You’re proposing that instead of being Mathuin’s prisoner I should be yours.’

Conmael rose to his feet. ‘That comment shows a wilful misunderstanding of the situation. I thought I’d made myself quite clear. I’m offering a home, safety, an opportunity to do some good. I’m giving you the chance to remake your life. You’d be the first to say what a wretched, broken thing it has become.’

I found myself unable to speak. Conmael moved toward the door. Almost dawn. He put his hand on the latch.

‘Wait!’ My mouth was dry. ‘Supposing I agree to this and stick to the conditions, what happens after seven years?’

He turned his head toward me. His face was grave. ‘Then you are your own woman again, and free to make your own choices.’ He opened the door, and there was Slammer, waiting. ‘We’re done here,’ Conmael said, and before I could get another word out, he had stepped past the guard and was gone from view.

‘Wait!’ I called. ‘Yes! I say yes!’ I rushed out the door and into the immoveable form of Slammer.

But there was no reply; only the plangent note of a bird as it flew across the brightening sky: Fool! Fool!

Conmael was nowhere to be seen.

2 Grim

2

~GRIM~