“I think we’d be better with three guards.” I would not be happy with an escort comprising only Aidan and Cathal. As far as I’d been able to observe they were friends again now, but they’d surprised me before and I didn’t want an argument developing when we were miles from anywhere.

“I’ll instruct Doran to go with you,” Father said. “Make sure you tell us what time to expect you back.”

Doran was one of my father’s most capable guards. He had lived at Sevenwaters since I was a small girl and had children of his own. His wife, Nuala, worked in our kitchen. “Thank you, Father,” I said, finding myself warming to the whole idea.

I went to the kitchen after breakfast to organize some supplies, since Eilis wanted to make this an all-day outing. When I got there it was to find Nuala and two helpers busy with the day’s baking, and a strange old woman sitting in the chair from which our last cook, Janis, had surveyed her domain with an eagle eye over year after year of plucking, basting, peeling and chopping. We had lost Janis two winters ago, but such had been her influence in our household that her special chair had remained empty since the day of her death. The stranger occupied it as if she had every right to be there. She was a pale little thing, like a skeleton bird, all bright eyes and beaky nose. The shadow-gray garment that swathed her might have been gown, cloak or robe. The moment I walked in her gaze darted to me, piercing and shrewd.

“She wandered in first thing this morning,” Nuala whispered in my ear. “Says she wants a few nights’ shelter, but she’ll only speak to the lady of the house.”

I approached the chair. “Good morning,” I said. “I am Clodagh, one of Lord Sean’s daughters. I’m told you are seeking shelter.”

She nodded. “I’m kin to Dan Walker,” she said. Dan was leader of the traveling folk. Janis had been his aunt.

“May I ask what the connection is?” I could see the old woman was not lacking in wits: a keen intelligence shone in those assessing eyes.

“I’m his mother’s sister.” Her voice was too deep and powerful for such a frail creature. It was as resonant and strong as oak wood.

“Are you traveling alone?” It was the wrong time of year for Dan’s folk to pass by Sevenwaters, their pattern being to come north in autumn for the horse fairs, not in springtime.

She smiled. It was not the smile of a sweet old lady, but instead knowing and subtle. I felt she could see right through me. “I always travel alone, Clodagh, daughter of Sean,” she said. “If you’ll shelter me, I’ll pay.”