A pause, during which I wondered whether I had gone too far; let my frustration get the better of me. After all, Flannan was coming with his translation today, and that might answer all the questions. I could have waited for that before offending my hostess. Besides, I had hardly been open with information myself; I had not asked her about the small folk. Even now, so close to midsummer, my instincts told me I must keep their secret.

“Forgive me,” Geiléis said, “but I do not understand how your theory about forgetting relates in any way to my willingness or unwillingness to help you. I have provided shelter, food, all the comforts you need. We have not prevented you from carrying out your investigation; all we have done is insist you do not attempt these activities without suitable protection. We have told you everything we know.” She was a model of calm.

“So you’ve said, several times. But you can’t tell me what you’ve forgotten.”

Did I imagine the shadow that crossed her features, a look of terrible pain? For a moment I was at Cahercorcan again, in Prince Oran’s council chamber, and she was telling us the tale for the first time, in such despair that even my hard heart was touched. Then she gathered herself, drawing a deep breath, making her face calm. But when she spoke, her voice cracked with emotion. “I have forgotten nothing!” She rose to her feet, graceful as always. “Excuse me.” And she was gone from the room.

I looked at Senach; he gazed back at me.

“I’ve upset her,” I said. “I didn’t intend to.”

“Lady Geiléis understands that, Mistress Blackthorn. With Midsummer Eve so close, we are all on edge. Hoping that Master Flannan’s document will provide some enlightenment.” He hesitated. “If you still wish to pursue other possibilities, one of the men could ride out with you to a more distant group of farms today. I cannot promise you will have any more luck there, but if you want to try . . .”

“How distant?” One thing I did know, and that was that I wanted to hear Flannan’s news as soon as he arrived.

“I understand it’s about an hour’s ride each way. Donncha visits the place from time to time. If you left straight after the midday meal you would be home in plenty of time for supper.”

He was astute. “It might be better to leave earlier. I don’t want to miss Flannan.”

“The weather is fair,” Senach said. “Folk will be busy with their work until later in the day. You wouldn’t want to ride all that way and find there was nobody to talk to.”

It was exactly the kind of response I’d been speaking of when I’d accused Geiléis of obstructing my investigation. I refrained from telling him so. After all, he was only doing his job. “Provided we’re back in time, it sounds a good plan,” I said. It would at least give me something to do other than pacing up and down and wrestling with my troublesome thoughts. “I wonder . . . might I take a gift? Not only headache potions and the like but something more immediate. Fresh-baked bread, maybe?” An offering of some kind, however simple, was a good way of loosening folk’s tongues. “It smells as if Dau has been baking this morning.”