Nessa could understand that. Her heart still ached for the loss of her sisters. Her mother had drifted off into some strange world, where nobody could reach her; her eyes were blank, her words could no longer be understood. And Engus had changed since that fateful trip to High Island. Nessa could read on his face the realization that he had made a terrible mistake. The newcomers struck where and when it suited them; it was no longer safe for the Folk to travel across the island unarmed. What about the widow, Ara, who had married one of the strangers, and died by fire with her bairns in her arms? That had been no accident. It was after that, Nessa thought, that her uncle had begun to recognize what he had unleashed on his people. Ara’s kinsmen had gone out to seek vengeance for her killing. The Norsemen had slaughtered every one of them, hacked them to death without a shred of mercy. The little vale of Ramsbeck was a cursed place now, a place of deep sorrow. The Folk would not walk that way again. Nessa could only be glad Kinart had not joined that party as he had wished, or her cousin’s body would be lying now under the earth with the broken remains of the others. A whole family of men had perished that day, brothers, father, grandfather, uncles, cousins. Kinart was burning with fury. He had sworn to take a Norseman’s head for every one of those killed at Ramsbeck, for all he was not much more than a lad himself. Engus held him back. He held them all back. That heroic, futile attempt at revenge had been undertaken without his knowledge, without his sanction. Only a fool, Engus said, would underestimate the Norsemen’s strength. The Folk had no chance against them in open combat. But there was still a possibility of a new treaty. They must not lose hope. All the same, Nessa knew he had summoned men to come from the other islands, and he had doubled his border guards. Engus had trusted Ulf, a good and wise chieftain. Somerled Horse-Master was quite a different matter.

Their own lands in the west were still safe. True, Engus had muttered something about her not going out without Kinart or one of the other young men, just in case, but Nessa had chosen not to hear him. She didn’t want a guard trailing after her and getting in the way. She didn’t want Kinart hanging about on the fringes of the forbidden place, calling her to hurry up. There was no need for that. The Norsemen knew not to venture over the borders, that had been made very clear to Lord Ulf, and his brother must surely understand it. Besides, she was a priestess, and if the dog did not protect her, the ancestors would.