Gull is abed early after a long day of work. Tomorrow, Knut’s fight takes place. It has troubled me to see that man cross this chamber every day; that man with cold eyes. As he passes, he turns his gaze on me. Sometimes he greets me—Comrade, how are you?—but he need not speak for me to know his enmity. And still I cannot remember. They say he was a crewman. They say his wife was on board with him. And his son. Drowned. I remember nothing, nothing at all save Paul, and the knots, and the wave coming over. When the sea came, it took everything.

Today I have worked again on regaining my strength. I can walk from bed to fireside and back with my hand on a man’s shoulder, or a woman’s, for balance. Seven steps each way. Gull made Sibeal demonstrate that she had the strength to support me before he agreed to retire for the night. I cannot yet go abroad. Those seven steps rob me of breath. I am like a child’s doll, a manikin stuffed with wool. Weak. Too weak to defend myself, save with words.

Now, at last, I can speak to Sibeal alone.

“What is in your thoughts, Sibeal?”

She glances up at me, surprised. Her favorite place is on the mat before the hearth. I do not think it is the warmth she seeks, but visions in the flames. “I was considering whether to cast the runes again.”

“What is the question you need answered?”

The flames flicker in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she says.

“That cannot be true. Cast the runes for a trivial question? You are a druid. You would not do that.”

She makes no answer for a while. Her words, when they come, are hesitant. “Some things may be better not shared.”

“Sibeal, look at me.” She looks, taken aback by my tone. “Do you believe me unworthy of the truth?”

She wraps her arms around herself as if, even there before the hearth, she is touched by a deep cold. “I can’t tell you this, Ardal. It is someone else’s secret.” After a moment she adds, “I haven’t lied to you, just held something back.”

“You said your question did not matter. I do not think that can be true.”

“In fact,” Sibeal says, and I see I have upset her, “if I cast the runes again tonight I would hardly know which question to choose. Several matters are exercising my mind, all equally troubling.”

“Are all these matters better not shared?”

She looks up at me. I feel a jolt to the heart; it is the same each time I look into her eyes. There is no one else in the world with such eyes. She does not answer my question.