I headed for the women’s quarters, thinking to pass Bramble over to one of the attendants. Against the odds, the little dog was still sleeping. I wandered into the garden I had made for Flidais, beyond the door of her reading room. I had chosen each plant with care, using what I had learned from my lady’s letters. I had supervised everything from the curve of the path to the shape of the pond to the choice of stones for the wall, a barrier designed to make the place safe for Bramble. I stood there quietly for a little, knowing I must go indoors before folk came looking for me, yet finding myself unable to move on. In this tranquil spot the dream still lived. It was present in the warmth of the dog in my arms; in the perfection of the garden; in the aching of my wounded heart.

Deep down, I knew something was wrong. Something more than a woman whose letters had not given a true picture of her character. Something more than an arranged marriage whose parties had proved to be ill-matched. Something a great deal stranger. And if I did not examine it, if I did not search as hard as I could for answers, how could I expect a future based on truth, honesty and courage? If I gave up now, I had surely never been worthy of the dream.

I could not deal with this myself. But how could I expect anyone else to investigate a matter that was so private? Besides, the problem was . . . nebulous. When I’d tried to explain it to Donagan, even he had expressed the view that I was imagining things.

But . . . after today, after the council, it seemed maybe there was someone who could help. Someone good at solving puzzles, someone brave enough to tackle the most baffling mystery. Someone wise enough not to dismiss the truth of old tales.

‘She might refuse, of course,’ I murmured to Bramble. ‘She might think me a complete fool, and I suspect she would not hesitate to say so to my face. But I can ask.’ Somewhere inside me there awoke a tiny, flickering flame of hope.

26 Grim

26

~GRIM~

Day after the council, it’s cold but dry. Got no jobs on hand for anyone. I’m thinking I can put in a good day on the cottage, maybe find someone to help me get the roof beams up. Blackthorn’s not saying much. Spent the night muttering and cursing in her dreams. Sooner I can get the house weatherproof, sooner we can move back in. Fraoch’s place is comfortable enough and they’re good people. But Blackthorn can’t live long among folk.