On the third evening after Willow had told us the tale of warring clurichauns, Aidan persuaded me to bring my harp down to the hall and we played jigs and reels together. Perhaps such exuberant music was not altogether apt, for Mother had been vomiting and purging, and Muirrin’s brisk manner and capable expression did not fool me into believing all was well. Still, the household seemed to appreciate the music. Our performance lured a group of maidservants and men-at-arms out to dance. As we worked our way through the final jig the pace got quicker and quicker and we almost came unstuck several times. We survived, I flushed and breathless, Aidan laughing and examining his fingers as if to ascertain that they were all still there. The audience applauded heartily. Father, however, was quiet.

“I have another tale for you tonight.” It was Willow’s voice, deep and strong, and as I watched the old woman came forward from her corner, her bony hand clutching her staff. “If Lord Sean permits. It is the second of three I owe, and the right one for this day and time.”

“Of course,” Father said, but it was clear to me his thoughts were elsewhere. I knew he would rather be upstairs with Mother, but he would stay in the hall until the evening’s entertainment was over. Folk liked routine; they liked things to conform to a pattern. That made them feel safe. A chieftain could never put his personal concerns first.

As was her habit, Willow had a good look around the hall before she began her tale. Sibeal was here with Eilis and Coll, sitting on the floor in the front. The departure of Gareth’s party meant Aidan and Cathal were spending a good deal of their time on duty. Tonight, Aidan had the job of keeping close to Johnny, though he had been allowed time off to play for us. Cathal stood further away, near the entry.

“Would you ever believe,” Willow said, fixing Coll and Eilis with her penetrating gaze, “that a mother would abandon her baby in a deep, dark wood at night? Only the most troubled of women would do such a thing. Only a mother too frightened and desperate to offer her child the love that was his birthright would leave him thus to the will of the gods. It happened, and the infant was on the edge of death when the wolf came.” The children stared at her, caught up in the tale already.