And you’re not, I thought. Or weren’t before. I’ve been too busy to take much notice, I told her. Finbar’s arrival has set the household upside down. I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about. I did not mention Father’s furrowed brow, or the serious conversations the men seemed to be having all the time now, talk that often included the name Eoin of Lough Gall.

Really? I hate to think of Father riding out to battle with a new baby at home.

He’s not riding out to battle, Deirdre. It’s nothing like that, only Gareth and some other men going north with a message, that’s all. My heart was thumping now. Either Cathal was right and I’d already said more than I should, or he was wrong and I would upset my sister for no good reason by refusing to answer perfectly reasonable questions. Suddenly, talking to Deirdre was like balancing along a very thin line indeed. I have to go, I said. I’m supposed to be looking after Finbar and I can hear him crying. As if to prevent me from lying, the baby stirred, making a small sleepy sound, then fell silent once more.

Oh. So he’s right there with you? Where are you? Who else is there?

Deirdre, I have to go.

A little silence, then she said, Can we do this again, Clodagh? I know what I said before, but I didn’t realize how much I was going to miss you. It would make such a difference, just being able to talk to you sometimes, exchange our news, find out how everyone is . . . Can we?

Of course, I told her, but there was a cold, tight feeling in my chest. If news was what she wanted, why hadn’t she asked after a single one of our sisters? She’d questioned me over the northern chieftains, but she hadn’t so much as mentioned Muirrin or Sibeal or Eilis. This was Deirdre; Deirdre who to the best of my recollection had never in her life discussed strategic matters with me. Goodbye for now, Deirdre. I’ll tell the others you sent your love.

The moment she was gone from my head a wave of exhaustion hit me. I sank down onto the bench beside the little hearth, glad that the baby seemed to have fallen asleep again, for I did not think I could find the strength so much as to pick him up, let alone change his wrappings or carry him to my mother’s chamber to be fed. A tear dribbled down my cheek. What was wrong with me? I did not feel at all like a young woman whose mother had not so long ago thanked her for being competent. I fished for a handkerchief and wiped my eyes.