The Abbess received me kindly, but had nothing to add to the account which I had received soon after my mother’s death, and had passed on to my father. I left money for prayers, and for a carved stone to be made, and when I left, it was with her silver cross with the amethysts tucked into my saddlebag. One question I dared not ask, even when a girl who was not Keri brought wine for my refreshment. And finally, with my question unasked, I was ushered to the gate and out into the street. Here I thought for a moment that my luck had changed, for as I was untying my horse’s bridle from the ring beside the gate I saw the old portress peering at me through the grille—remembering, no doubt, the gold I had given her on my first visit. But when I produced money and beckoned her close to shout my question in her ear, and even, after three repetitions, got through to her, the only answer was a shrug and the one word, “Gone,” which—even if she had understood me—was hardly helpful. In the end I gave it up. In any case, I told myself, this was something that had to be forgotten. So I rode out of town and back over the miles to my valley with the memory of her face burnt into everything I saw, and the gold of her hair lying in every shaft of the slanting sunlight.

Cadal had rebuilt the pen which Galapas and I had made in the hawthorn brake. It had a good roof and a stout door, and could easily house a couple of big horses. One—Cadal’s own, I supposed—was already there.

Cadal himself must have heard me riding up the valley, because, almost before I had dismounted, he came running down the path by the cliff, had the bridle out of my hand, and, lifting both my hands in his, kissed them.

“Why, what’s this?” I asked, surprised. He need have had no fears for my safety; the messages I had sent him had been regular and reassuring. “Didn’t you get the message I was coming?”

“Yes, I got it. It’s been a long time. You’re looking well.”

“And you. Is all well here?”

“You’ll find it so. If you must live in a place like this, there’s ways and ways of making it fit. Now get away up, your supper’s ready.” He bent to unbuckle the horse’s girths, leaving me to go up to the cave alone.