I found myself momentarily unable to speak. The tumult crowded out everything else.

“You watch?” Knut asked me. “Good fight, you watch?”

Ardal spat out some words of Norse. I had never heard such a tone from him. Knut stared at him a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. The front door opened, and there was Muirrin with a cloth-covered bowl in her hands. “Knut,” she said, surprised. “Why are you here?”

“See him,” Knut said, jerking his chin toward the bed. “I go now. Fight soon.” He directed a smile of sorts in my general direction, and was gone.

I found words. “I thought Evan said Ardal was too sick to be left on his own.” I could still feel the tension of that encounter, without any idea of what the two men had said to each other.

Muirrin put her bowl on the worktable. “I was only gone a moment, Sibeal. I have a man coming in shortly with a painfully swollen ankle. I couldn’t make up this poultice without a trip to the storeroom. And Ardal’s fine, as you see.”

There was no way to convey what I had felt on first entering the chamber. It was one thing to have the gift of Sight, to be open to the voices of the gods, to be attuned to visions, omens and portents. It was another to be a vessel into which poured, apparently at random, a volatile blend of other people’s love and hate, cowardice and courage, envy, greed and desire. One thing I had learned. Knut and Ardal together spelled peril.

“Sibeal.” Ardal’s whisper drew me to his bedside, where I sank down on the stool. “Don’t concern yourself about me. There’s no need.” But there was. I’d have had to be blind not to notice how pale he was. He took my hand, holding it tightly.

“If you’re going to be here, Sibeal,” my sister said, “you can find me some bandages. I anticipate a few more cuts and bruises this morning. The Connacht men may be shaping up well, but they don’t have our men’s experience.”

“I can’t stay,” I said. “I wish I could. I’ve promised to be with Clodagh for the morning. Isn’t there someone else to help you?”

“Later, yes. This morning every woman on the island will be at the bouts. Never mind, I can cope.” She moved across to tend to the fire.

“Sibeal, be careful,” Ardal whispered.

“What do you mean?” I was whispering, too, leaning close. “Careful of what?” It wouldn’t be me out there with a sword in my hand this morning.

“Don’t go out walking on your own.” His eyes were full of trouble. “Please.”