I entered the hall fully intending to report the whole conversation to my father. He’d recognize instantly how ridiculous Cathal’s suggestions were. Deirdre a traitor to the family? It was so silly it wasn’t worth thinking about. Not only was my twin devoted to our parents, she had never had the slightest interest in matters strategic or political. In the unlikely event that someone wanted her to obtain useful information, Deirdre wouldn’t even know what questions to ask.

I was two steps inside the door when Sibeal came rushing down the main stairs, calling my name. The look on her face made something clench tight inside me.

“Where were you, Clodagh?” My sister’s voice wobbled; she was making a heroic effort to sound calm. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Muirrin needs you upstairs right now.” As we went up together, Sibeal told me what I had guessed the moment I saw her. “The baby’s coming early. It shouldn’t be born for ages yet. Clodagh, I’m scared.”

I did not think Muirrin would need me for midwifery duties, and I was right. She was dealing capably with everything and had plenty of serving women to help her. Mother was sitting on the bed with Eithne supporting her. Her features formed a grotesque mask of pain. Aromatic herbs were burning on the hearth; their scent did not quite disguise the smell of blood. I waited until the spasm was over, then said something reassuring, I hardly knew what. Quite certain my terror must show on my face, I was deeply relieved when Muirrin drew me back toward the door.

“Clodagh, I’m assuming you’ll keep things calm downstairs,” my sister said in an undertone. “I’m afraid you won’t be getting much sleep. Johnny says he’ll sit up with Father. Please keep the younger ones away from here until this is over.”