“I don’t want to ask him. And I don’t want to go to Bann. I want to stick to his wretched rules and get the seven years over.” And then I’ll go back to Laois and make Mathuin pay.

“Mm-hm.”

“I’ll stay out of Geiléis’s way. I’ll keep as busy as I can. You can help by warning me if you see her coming, so I can avoid her. With luck Master Oisín will get here soon, and she’ll be off home again before she has a chance to ask me outright for help.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Stop saying that! It sounds as if you’re saying yes and meaning no.”

“Night, then. Sleep well.”

“Hah!” Neither of us ever slept well. Our nights were a tangle of bad dreams, the ghosts of the past come back to torment us. “You too, Grim.”

• • •

I was not best pleased next morning when, just as I was at the most difficult stage of preparing a salve, there was a polite tap at the stillroom door. I swallowed the snarling Go away that sprang to my lips. That kind of knock might mean Flidais or one of her attendants, Deirdre or Nuala. “Who is it?” I called.

The door opened and there was the Lady of Bann, clad in a gown of russet red with her hair in cunningly interwoven plaits. So much for avoiding her. I could feel myself scowling. “Lady Geiléis. Did you need something?”

“To speak with you, if you permit. May I come in?”

“I’m busy. If I interrupt this preparation, the mixture will curdle and be spoiled. Sit on that bench, over there.”

Geiléis sat. If she thought me unmannerly, she gave no sign of it. I took my time with the preparation. Rushing it was likely to see a botched result, which meant good ingredients wasted. So I stirred the mixture in its little pot on the brazier, tested it from time to time, eventually took it off the heat, added further components, stirred again and waited until it was well thickened. I spooned it carefully into a sturdy jar. My visitor waited in silence while I washed pot, ladle, spoon, knife and chopping board in the bucket and wiped them dry.

When all was to rights, I dried my hands on my apron and addressed Lady Geiléis. There had been plenty of time to rehearse the right words in my mind. “I’m hoping you have not come to ask me if I can travel west with you, my lady. I understand how difficult things are for you, and I have some sympathy. But I’ve given Lady Flidais my word that I will stay here and look after her. She needs me.”

“You take your calling seriously.”

“Why would I not?” Impossible to sound anything but sharp.

“I meant no offense. Watching you work is an education.”

“I work better on my own. Was there something else you needed? Were you seeking some kind of remedy?”

“Your opinion only.”