Johnny nodded. “Very well, Felix. We need your story, and it’s clear you no longer wish to hold it back. But first things first. I want a plain and truthful account of what just happened in here. Sibeal, let’s hear your version of events.”

I stood up, thinking the occasion demanded it, and found I was trembling. Clutching my hands together, I gave an account of what I had experienced—the sudden waking, knowing something was wrong; coming through the doorway to see the shadowy figures locked in struggle; the realization that Knut was trying to kill Ardal. Felix. I would have to get used to that. I told of my attempt to intervene, and Knut flinging me to the floor. I did not speak of what I had felt: the two men’s tumult of dark emotions. “I . . . created a distraction, with the fire. Knut lost his grip on Ardal. Then I—I spoke to Knut, I accused him . . . He said no, I was mistaken. He was angry. I thought he was about to hurt one of us, perhaps both of us.” My voice shook.

“Take your time, Sibeal,” Johnny said.

I drew a steadying breath and went on. “Ardal moved in front of me and Knut slashed at him.” I would never forget that. In the face of Knut’s knife and his murderous eyes, Ardal had used his body to shield mine without a second thought. So quick. So brave. He would have died for me.

“And then Gull came in,” I said. “I didn’t see the next part, I was helping Ardal—Felix—but Gull hit Knut, and Knut fell. Gull told me to bring the rope and go for help, and I did.”

“Thank you, Sibeal. Please sit down.” Johnny turned to Gull. “Is that an accurate account, Gull?”

“Sounds about right to me,” Gull said. “I was in the privy when I heard Sibeal call out. When I came in Ar—Felix was facing Knut with Sibeal behind him. Knut used his knife; Felix went down. The situation being what it was, I disabled Knut.” He glanced at the Norseman. There was no judgment in his eyes. As was the pattern of things on Inis Eala, everyone would be heard before any determination of guilt or innocence was made. “Felix was hurt, maybe Sibeal as well. Someone had to go for help. So I gave Knut a tap on the jaw, just enough to put him out of action so we could tie him. Once I had reassured her that Felix would live to see the sun rise, Sibeal was prepared to go and fetch you.” Gull smiled at me, then was somber again. “Felix has a bruise on his neck—show them, Felix. A man who puts pressure on that particular spot knows what he’s about. His intention is to kill, quickly, efficiently, silently. If there hadn’t been a seer in the next room, Felix wouldn’t have lived to tell us his story. His killer could have come in, done the deed and left again before I got back from the privy. Such a man would think, perhaps, that I wouldn’t notice my charge was dead until he failed to wake for his breakfast. That, of course, is not fact but theory.”