“I’m partial to a cold sausage, myself,” said Grim, making me smile.

“I daresay Geiléis’s retainers could oblige, if we asked them,” I said. “They seem helpful, though not exactly given to chat. We’d better try to sleep. In the morning we’ll brave those woods, if only to gather the makings of a brew. You keep an eye on me; I’ll keep an eye on you. Just in case this curse inclines one of us to wander into the river and drown, or stray into some trackless part of the forest, never to be seen again. As for the curse addling folk’s thoughts, mine feel addled enough already.”

“Easier to fall asleep thinking of a sausage than that.”

“True. Good night, Grim.”

“Night.”

• • •

Nobody could have slept past dawn in this household. As the sun rose, the crying began anew. Although the thick stone walls damped the sound, nothing could have shut it out entirely. If I had not fully understood Geiléis’s desperation before, now it made a terrible sense.

We rose and dressed, observing modesty by the simple means of turning our backs to each other. I was heading out to the privy, thinking to draw water from the well for a brisk wash, when a servant came to our door with a jug of hot water, a bowl and a soft cloth. Another manservant. I realized I had not seen any women here yet, save Geiléis herself.

“What is your name?” I asked the man.

“Dau, Mistress Blackthorn.”

“Have you been working in this household long?”

“A good while.”

He looked no older than eighteen; a clear-eyed, golden-haired lad. “Does the creature’s crying trouble you? Or are you used to it by now?”

Dau set down jug, bowl and cloth on the bench. “We serve the lady,” he said. “The creature is what it is.” He gave a little bow, then left the room. Whether he meant yes or no, I had no idea.

Another serving man came to the door not long afterward, offering to escort us to the dining chamber. There, breakfast was laid out on a long table with benches to either side. A platter held fragrant loaves; cold meat was fanned out in tidy slices. In addition there were several kinds of cheese, a dish of porridge, and a jug of ale. No sign of Lady Geiléis, but Flannan was there before us and rose to his feet as we came in. Ripple came out from under the table to greet us.

“Good morning.” Flannan sounded in excellent cheer. “I hope you slept well.”

I grimaced. “Could have been better. You?”

“Best night’s rest I’ve had in a while. I daresay tonight will be less comfortable; monasteries are generally somewhat austere in their accommodations. Come, sit here. The steward said we’re not to wait for Lady Geiléis. She’ll be breakfasting in her own quarters.”

The men were hungry and ate well. I drank some ale and made myself consume a bowl of porridge, though I was strung too tight to enjoy it. The servant had slipped silently away. But even with the three of us alone together, I found it hard to sustain anything like a normal conversation. I was relieved when the steward, Senach, came in to ask whether we needed anything.