“I’ve never seen it before,” said Gull, coming to sit on the opposite bench. “A man losing his memory entirely, I mean. I’ve seen them get confused for a while after a blow to the head, but that doesn’t last so long. On the other hand, what’s happened to him—Ardal—is not so different from how it’s been for a good few of us here, over the years. We move on, things change, and certain parts of our own story get shut away inside us. For a lot of us, the past has a line drawn across it. Before is something we don’t look at often.”

The soup was finished. “Good work, Ardal,” I murmured, taking the spoon from his fingers. Fang snapped at me.

“Deiz, nann!” Ardal said, and the dog subsided, growling. Gull and I both stared at him.

“Given Fang a new name?” Gull asked quietly. “Deiz, is it?”

Ardal looked at us. “A better name than Fang, I think,” he said. “It means day.” He smiled.

Whether or not Snake would be pleased to find his dog renamed when he returned home was neither here nor there. Ardal had just taken a huge stride forward. Gull and I exchanged grins of delight.

“Seems your Irish is much better than we thought,” Gull observed without emphasis. “I wonder, now . . . I don’t suppose you remember a lad called Corentin, Sibeal, who was with us here a few years back. Ardal puts me in mind of him. There’s something of the same look about him, and something in the accent, too. Corentin hailed from Armorica, close to Gaulish territories.”

Ardal had dropped his gaze; the long lashes shielded his eyes. If these names meant something to him, he was not saying, not yet. We must tread delicately.

“Gull, you mentioned men here not wanting to think about before, ” I said, changing the subject. “Before what? Before coming to Inis Eala?”

“For some.” Gull looked down at his hands, strong, damaged, telling a tale of their own. “For others it’s earlier. Death; loss; war. A deed that’s best forgotten. For me the line got drawn when I met the Chief. When I recall the time before, I don’t think of what happened so much. I remember how it felt to be on the brink of giving up and to be bodily hauled back. He taught me hope. Funny thing was, he didn’t learn it for himself until your aunt Liadan brought him out of his own dark place. That was a remarkable time, Sibeal. Still gives me chills to think of it.”