I fetched my cloak from my little chamber, then came back through the infirmary. Gull had placed a pillow under Ardal’s head and a blanket over his legs. Ardal was stirring; he muttered something in his own tongue.

“Lie still, son,” Gull said quietly. “You’re hurt. I’m just finding a bit of bandage for your arm, and Sibeal’s off to get Johnny.”

“I’ll be back soon,” I said, trying for a reassuring tone and managing a strangled croak.

As I moved to the door, Ardal spoke. The sound of it stopped my heart. It was as if he had opened a window and found himself gazing straight into his worst nightmare. I understood in that moment that at last he had remembered.

“We left them. Gods have mercy on us, we left them behind.”

CHAPTER 9

~Sibeal~

They went to find shelter, to find a safe place—if he hadn’t come back early—they wouldn’t listen—when Paul tried to—”

After the long silence, now the words were pouring out of Ardal like water from a broken dam. He couldn’t keep still. Despite the knife wound, which Gull had bandaged—Evan would stitch it later, by daylight—he would not sit down, but paced and gestured, his body possessed by a restless energy. He was making very little sense.

I had hammered on Johnny’s door, glad that he and Gareth had their own hut, since the alternative would have meant waking everyone in the men’s quarters. Gareth had gone to fetch Kalev and Cathal, while Johnny and I returned to the infirmary. By the time we got there Knut had regained consciousness, and both Evan and Muirrin had arrived, drawn by my scream.

Once the other men had come in Johnny ordered that Knut’s bonds be untied. The Norseman seemed as desperate to explain himself as Ardal was, but Johnny silenced him.

“You’ll get the chance to speak, Knut. Hold your tongue until I tell you it’s time. And don’t move unless you want to be tied up again.”

“But—”

“You heard me.”

Kalev and Gareth stationed themselves on either side of Knut. Cathal came over to stand behind me, near the fire.

Ardal was still talking. “ . . . and we left them there. Paul tried—he tried, but—” He made a wild gesture with his good arm, missing Gull’s nose by a hair’s breadth. “I must go, I must go straightaway—they may still be alive—”

“Ardal,” Johnny said, stepping forward to put his hands on the other man’s shoulders, “we want to hear your story. But not like this, in bits and pieces. Take a deep breath and sit down.”

“I cannot—I—”

“That’s an order,” Johnny said. “Sit there beside Gull and don’t get up until I give you permission.”

Ardal sat, agitation written all over his face. “My name is Felix,” he said in strangled tones.

I fought the urge to go over and put my arms around him. I stayed where I was, on the other bench beside Muirrin and Evan. The best way to help him was to stay calm. I did not feel very calm at all.