“Looks like I am,” I say. “Better pack up, then. Not sure what a fellow needs to deal with a monster.”

“Courage,” says Blackthorn. “Sharp wits. Imagination.”

“Mm-hm.” Courage, I might be able to find, though if I have to visit this monastery that could get hard. Not strong on sharp wits and imagination. But then, she’s got more than enough for two.

11

Geiléis

By all the gods! She hardly dared believe it true. So late, when hope had seemed all but lost, Mistress Blackthorn had suddenly changed her mind. Of her own volition, she was coming to Bann.

Geiléis pushed down the wild excitement that was rising in her, threatening to undo the whole enterprise. She must be cool, calm, every bit the lady, even when her inner voice was shouting, Yes! This time it’s really going to happen! This woman is clever, she’s brave, she’s open to the strange and uncanny. She’s not like the others. This time, this time . . . There must be none of that. The very strengths that could help Blackthorn complete the task could also be the quest’s undoing. A clever woman could solve puzzles. A fearless woman might ask difficult questions, seek answers in places others would shun. A woman who understood magic might see what an ordinary person was blind to.

This must be carefully controlled, every step of the way. She must feed the information to Blackthorn drop by drop, giving her enough to hold her interest, but not so much that the healer would balk at the task ahead of her, or question Geiléis’s sanity as others before her had done. This must be calculated perfectly.

First things first. She bade Prince Oran and Lady Flidais farewell in the privacy of the royal council chamber. She thanked them for their hospitality and for lending her their valued wise woman. She promised to ensure that Mistress Blackthorn returned to court straight after Midsummer Eve, whether or not she was successful in banishing the monster.

The healer was bringing both the hulking bodyguard and the scholar with her to Bann. Neither was required for purposes of safety; Geiléis’s own escort was more than adequate. But Blackthorn had simply stated that both men would be accompanying her. Since Blackthorn’s cooperation was essential, Geiléis had agreed without demur. A little inconvenience could be endured in order to keep the woman content.

The guard, Grim, was all muscle and no wits. Loyal to his mistress, certainly. But lacking in intellect and subtlety, and therefore no real threat. The scholar would be quickly absorbed at St. Olcan’s, as others of his kind were. He would become enmeshed in his studies; blind and deaf to the outside world. The illuminated manuscripts in the monastic collection were considered the finest in all Erin. Provided Master Flannan stuck to what he knew best, he would not present a problem. She might send one of her guards ahead to have a word with Father Tomas. Best if the fellow was accommodated in the monastery guesthouse, safely out of the way.