Over bread and cheese and a jug of good mead I told the bare bones of my story. I did not tell them of the perilous bargain I had made with the Lord of the Oak, in which I might have found myself handing over my firstborn son or being obliged to share Mac Dara’s bed. I did not tell them the full story of Becan. But I did make it clear that there was a new order now in the realm of the Tuatha De, and that we would all have to be wary. I did not spell out what lay between Cathal and me, but it must have been plain enough in my account of the way Mac Dara had used me to bring his son into the Otherworld, and in the fact that I had risked so much to go back for him. Father listened in silence. Mother went on sewing, asking a question now and then. Muirrin looked in turn astounded, amused and horrified.

“And then,” I concluded, “we waded out of the river and found ourselves back in our own world. Fiacha flew off, probably straight to the nemetons, and we walked home through the forest. It’s quite a while since either of us has had any sleep, so I hope you’ll allow Cathal sufficient time to rest before he’s called to account for himself, Father. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He had no involvement with what happened at Glencarnagh—that was all Mac Dara’s doing, and calculated specifically to cast suspicion on Cathal. Of course, the Lord of the Oak also likes stirring up trouble purely to entertain himself.”

Father did not appear particularly reassured. “I hope you’re right about this, Clodagh. There’s the matter of Cathal’s accusation against Illann; that has caused a good deal of trouble with the southern faction. We have the opportunity of securing agreement to an unprecedented treaty, with both southern and northern chieftains at the council table. Illann is refusing to sign, claiming his good name has been tarnished by the doubt that lies over him in relation to the Glencarnagh attack. If that matter can be resolved to his satisfaction and mine, we may yet get every chieftain’s mark on our treaty. I’ll want to speak to you and Cathal together as soon as you’ve rested.”

Mother gave him a particular sort of look. “Clodagh’s asleep on her feet, Sean,” she said. “If she’s said Mac Dara was responsible for the attack, then he was responsible.” An unspoken message was quite clear in her eyes. You’ve refused to believe your daughter once before, and look where that led you. Are you foolish enough to do it again, so soon?