‘It depends on the circumstances, Lady Sochla. A wise woman tends to all manner of injuries and ailments. There can be combat wounds; limbs broken in farm accidents; burns. Heads cracked in foolish brawls over nothing in particular. Agues, fevers, ill humours, complications in childbirth. We see new life into the world; we hold the hands of the dying and lay out the dead.’

Lady Sochla seemed to be waiting for more, and now all the others were listening too.

‘Then there are the chronic ailments, such as persistent rashes or weakness of the stomach or maladies of the mind. For those who suffer in that way, we have a range of preparations that can be made up regularly.’ I would not mention headaches; it was too soon. ‘For instance, on the day the young woman, Ness, was rescued – you’ll have heard the tale at the last council – I was at Branoc’s bakery tending to his sore neck and shoulders. That was a genuine ailment, and I had taken a salve with me, prepared for the purpose.’

A buzz of talk broke out among them, in lowered voices. I applied myself to a drawing of the various parts of thyme: root, stem, leaves, flowers.

Someone was breathing down my neck.

‘Oh, that is pretty!’ exclaimed Deirdre. ‘You are clever, Mistress Blackthorn.’

‘It’s not meant to be pretty. The drawings provide a record. Each is an accurate depiction of the herb – or as accurate as I can manage, not being a skilled artist – with notes to illustrate how it is used and for what purpose.’ I reminded myself that of them all, Deirdre had been most civil to me on the day of the drowning. ‘But yes,’ I made myself say, ‘some of the herbs are very decorative. Though at this time of year, only a few are in flower.’

‘I’d say you are something of an artist, Blackthorn,’ put in Lady Sochla’s maid, Sinead, who had wandered over to have a look. With two of them crowding me, I gave up the attempt to draw. ‘You have a fine hand with the pen.’

Lady Flidais whispered in Mhairi’s ear, and they both smiled.

‘One cannot perform tasks such as sewing up wounds or extracting foreign bodies from folk’s ears or noses without a certain delicacy of touch,’ I observed, suppressing the urge to kick someone. ‘Just as one cannot set a broken limb to rights or pull out a diseased tooth without a certain brute strength. A wise woman needs both.’

‘Does your man help you?’ enquired Mhairi, lifting her brows.

I did not like her tone. Nor did I like the look on her face, which was mirrored on Lady Flidais’s. They were ready to mock me, the two of them, at the first opportunity. Never mind that. I had endured far worse in my time. Don’t snap. Don’t bite. Remember why you are here.