A silence. She’s waiting for me to say more. Getting the words out is like swimming in porridge. Feels like a test. ‘But if I was you, what I’d be wanting most was to do things for myself, without magic to make it easier. Mend the outside, fix up the inside. Make sure that well’s free of rubbish. Dig a garden, maybe get some chickens, take the time to explore and learn about things. In that place of Mathuin’s, it was always other folk deciding things. Big things like you getting to have your hearing, and little things like the chance to take a piss without Slammer looking on and making comments. I know you’ve made a promise to Conmael, and there’s no changing that. But if I was you I wouldn’t be wanting any more favours from him and his folk. I’d be wanting to do things myself.’

Blackthorn smiles. When she smiles it’s like the sun suddenly comes out, when you’ve been thinking the day’s going to be all grey clouds. ‘I’ll be needing a bit of help,’ she says. ‘Only until the place is fixed up. Just so we’re clear. You’re right, I like being on my own.’

I see myself the way she might be seeing me: useful, since she’s hardly going to be climbing up on the roof to mend the thatch or lifting stones to fix those walls. Useful but sad, because I can’t hide how much I want to stay. To a stray dog, every crumb’s precious. ‘Mm-hm,’ I mumble, not trusting myself with words right now.

She’s studying the tumbledown dwelling. ‘A fire and a brew, I think,’ she says, ‘then we can see what needs doing. Come on.’

9 Oran

9

~ORAN~

The wait seemed endless. It mattered not the least that I had seen the maps, that I knew the distances. I understood that even if they changed horses every few miles and were favoured with exceptionally fine weather, Flidais’s party could not arrive at Winterfalls until some weeks after Father’s reply to Lord Cadhan reached its destination. It was a long ride. Flidais was a young lady, not a warrior. She would need to take her time over the journey, despite the urgency suggested by her father’s last communication. I knew I must be calm and wait. But I could not. I strode from place to place, from task to task, until Donagan took me aside, sat me down and suggested I should exercise better self-control.

‘If you keep on this way,’ my friend and servant said, ‘you know what will happen.’

‘What?’ I heard the edge in my voice, and moderated my tone. ‘I have no idea what you mean, Donagan.’