Padric did as he was told and soon he found his head clearing, his lungs opening. There was still pain, but it no longer threatened to engulf him. After a while, he was guided back down and lay back against the mattress.

“You are fortunate.” The voice moved about the room. “Now rest.”

Padric must have slept. Through his closed lids, he perceived the room brightening and when he opened them fully, a gray sky floated in the window. The room was small but well-constructed; walls, floor and beams all strong wood. Padric’s mattress lay atop a thick palette of animal hides. A simple stool sat next to a small table with a copper basin and various clay jars resting atop. The man had pulled the hide curtain away from the window and was standing with his back to Padric, staring out into the wet day. Seeming to sense Padric’s eyes on him, the man turned calmly. He was tall, long waves of flaxen hair half tied behind his head. The simple belted robe he wore revealed broad shoulders and a slim waist, a physique defying the weathered lines of a face well into middle years. A short and neatly trimmed beard covered a strong jaw beneath proud cheekbones and hunter’s eyes, sharp and deeply lined at the corners. He fetched a cup from the table and filled it in the basin, bringing it over and kneeling beside the mattress.

“Water,” he said, offering the cup.

Padric pushed himself up, finding the compress gone. He reached out and took the cup, drinking the contents down in long pulls.

“I thank you,” he managed, his voice oddly pitched with disuse.

The man nodded and took the cup back, setting it on the floor. “Lean forward.”

Padric did so and the man placed a broad hand across his back. “Breathe thrice deeply.”

As Padric took the breaths, the man kept his face down and away, eyes closed in concentration. After the final breath he removed his hand and looked at Padric.

“Good,” he said with some pride. “Some hot food and all will be hale.”

“How did I come to be here?” Padric asked.

“You were within sight of the walls when you collapsed.”

“Walls?” Realization struck him. “The fort! This is the fort of Kederic Winetongue?”

“It is.”

“I must speak with him. Hog’s Wallow has been razed!”

“Yes,” the man replied. “Four days ago.”

“Days? But the Red Caps…”

“The goblins have moved on. They did not risk the defenses here.”

“The families…did they arrive? Are they safe?”

“They are.”

“There was a piskie with them…Rosheen. Is she here?”

“No.”

“But Ardal said she led the villagers here.”

“And the villagers say the same, but when they arrived there was no sign of any piskie.”