“Foreign,” Knut said. “He knows some Norse. More, I cannot tell you. He has not spoken at all?”

“Nothing,” Muirrin said.

“When he wakes, he will be confused.” Knut was studying the survivor’s features more closely. Perhaps he, too, had realized by now that the man was not sleeping. “Everything muddled, dreams and truth mixed, like a stew of many kinds of meat.”

Muirrin gave a crooked smile. “I’ll be happy if he speaks at all.” She hastened to add, “I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect to your wife, Knut. I know she is mute and cannot talk to us.”

“Mute, yes. And disturbed. I will go to her now. I thank you all again.”

“Kalev will take you back to the sleeping quarters,” Johnny said. “Rest well. Be assured this man has excellent care. If anyone can pull him through this, it’s our healers.”

The door closed behind Kalev and the Norseman. Johnny sat down by the sick man and addressed him quietly, in Irish, giving a brief explanation of where he was, telling him he would be safe, reassuring him that we meant him no harm. My cousin then repeated it in what sounded to my untutored ear like very passable Norse. Perhaps the presence of Kalev as interpreter had been unnecessary. This was not entirely surprising; it could be to a leader’s advantage not to reveal just how much he knew of another tongue. Johnny sat on in silence for a little, while I drank my herbal draft and the others completed their packing up for the day. I noticed that the sick man had his eyes open again, and was watching Johnny with something of the same wary look he had turned on me. Just before my cousin rose, the little dog pattered across and launched herself in a wild leap for the pallet. She scrabbled up, circled a few times and settled by the invalid’s side.

“She’ll help keep him warm,” Gull commented. “Pity we don’t have a bigger dog. Evan, you and Muirrin may as well be off to bed. Sibeal and I can cope here. Johnny, with these Connacht men due any day, we’ll need to talk further.”

“Mm.” My cousin was suddenly serious. “This has created a few more complications than I’d like, certainly. But it can wait until after the burial rite. Knut’s account was somewhat sketchy. Maybe, given time, he’ll be able to tell us more.”

“Connacht men?” I asked.

“We’ve a group due to arrive for training,” said Johnny. “Our unexpected visitors make that a little more difficult than it might be, but you need not concern yourself about it, Sibeal.” He smiled. “We ask a great deal of you, don’t we? A heroic rescue one day, a burial rite the next. It’s too easy to forget how young you are.”

“If my skills are needed here, I should use them,” I said.