Suddenly Kalev was in retreat, backing across the open ground before the swift and deadly action of Cathal’s sword arm. He staggered, went down on one knee, braced himself as best he could to hold back the onslaught. With his weapon’s hilt gripped in both hands, Cathal performed a twisting maneuver, and Kalev’s sword fell to the ground.

“Cease.” Johnny’s tone was level; if he had any opinion on the skill just demonstrated by his men, he gave no indication of it. Kalev got up, retrieved his weapon, came to stand by Cathal. The crowd roared its appreciation, and the two men acknowledged it with the customary slight dip of the head. Kalev looked tired. Cathal was impassive. “Well done, all who participated today,” Johnny said. “That’s the end of our display. Food and drink for everyone in the dining hall shortly. Connacht men, gather around. We’ll give you some further details and introduce you to your tutors. And I’ll answer any questions.”

The women and children, and many of the men, headed for the exit.

“Wait, Sibeal, we’ll go out when the worst of the crowd is through the gate,” Clodagh said. “I’m getting so big now, I tend to be in people’s way.”

“Closer to seventy,” Niall muttered to himself, after checking his fingers several times over. “Ah, well, it’s only a couple of coppers.” He headed down to join the group of men gathering around Johnny.

My sister and I were heading out at the back of the throng when I heard raised voices behind me, an intense exchange in Norse. Then came Knut’s voice, speaking in heavily accented Irish.

“I fight. New sword, seven days. I fight that one.”

We turned, Clodagh and I. Knut had moved against the flow of the crowd, and now stood in the group next to Johnny. Jouko had hold of the Norseman’s arm and was addressing him in a fierce undertone, probably saying something like, be quiet, you fool, this is not how it’s done. He might as well not have been there. Knut’s attention was all on Johnny. His gaze was fierce, his shoulders were set square and his booted feet were apart; it was a warrior’s pose. He had certainly grabbed the attention of the group. The Connacht men eyed him with curiosity; the Inis Eala men with bemused astonishment.

It was hard to surprise Johnny, but for a moment I saw him lost for words.

“Jouko,” said Rat, “explain to Knut that the bouts are only for the men in training, our summer visitors. Besides, nobody’s going to be proficient with the new sword in seven days. Even supposing a man could be, he wouldn’t last to the count of ten against Cathal.”

So it was Cathal that the Norseman had challenged. Knut must be stupid. Hadn’t he seen that last bout?