Seven seemed to me a small number to run such a large establishment and to do it well, even with Geiléis as the only occupant other than themselves. Senach supervised; the others, among them, cooked, served, cleaned, performed maintenance and repairs and looked after the kitchen garden. The men-at-arms undertook escort and guard duty, acted as messengers, and were responsible for the stable and its complement of riding horses. Grim had gone up there to talk to them. I hoped he was having better luck than me.

“I hope that was satisfactory, Mistress Blackthorn,” said Senach when the last of the servants had gone back to his duties. We were back in the dining chamber, where a small fire burned, keeping the space just warm enough. It was a house of spacious proportions and, despite its obvious comforts, there was a gloomy feeling to it. That could be put down to the monster’s voice, which could still be heard indoors, though faintly. Even in summer the place held a chill. “May I fetch you some ale?” Senach asked. “A small cake or two?”

I was tempted to snarl at him—my mood was not benign after so much wasted time—but I nodded assent. I had eaten almost no breakfast and I was hungry. “And bring some for yourself, Senach. I’d like to speak with you a little more.”

He did as he was asked, but after setting the tray down on the table he remained standing, reaching over to pour ale for me with a well-practiced hand.

“Please,” I said, “do sit down. I find it awkward being waited on.”

“As you wish.” He sat down opposite me. “Was there something further you wanted to ask?”

“I was hoping you might unbend sufficiently to sit with me awhile and give me your opinion on a few things. Your fellow serving folk were faultless in their courtesy and told me almost nothing I didn’t know already.” I filled the second cup and pushed it across to him.

Senach put his fingers around the cup but did not lift it. “They have nothing useful to say. The monster, the tower, the woods . . . Lady Geiléis has already told you everything.”

“Forgive me, but you can’t know that. You were not present at court when she told us the story. Nor were you on the journey west.”

He gave a little smile. “I have served the lady a long time.”

“Not so very long, surely. In Prince Oran’s household there are servants who have known him since he was a small child. Folk whose mothers and fathers served there before them; folk whose children are growing up at Winterfalls and will no doubt serve Oran’s son when he lives there in his turn.”

A silence. “I am not certain what it is you want to know,” Senach said. “We are loyal to the lady. That is exactly as it should be. It pains us that she is so unhappy. If you can help her, we will be forever grateful.”