“Just up there.” The girl jerked her head to the east, beyond the cottage.

“Go and fetch her,” Nessa said. “Bid her be quick; dusk will fall soon, and you must be back across the borders by then. Indeed, there may not be enough time for that; it’s a long way.”

“We have horses. I’ll go and tell her.” The girl fled, boots slipping on the wet grass.

Rona put her head around the cottage door. “Got rid of her, did you?”

“Not yet. You’d better stay inside. I won’t be long.”

“If you say so.” The head disappeared.

The woman looked familiar. She was young, close to Nessa’s own age. She held her back straight, her head regally high. The auburn hair was woven into a coronet, fastened with black ribbons. For all the pallor of her cheeks, she showed no sign of nervousness.

“Gunhild tells me you cannot grant my request unless I speak to you myself,” she said coolly, with no attempt at introduction. “I did not wish to come here.”

“Believe me,” Nessa said grimly, “I had no wish to receive you in this sacred place. But you are here now. It was foolish to come so far. It will be dark soon, and there are guards. Don’t you understand how things are between my people and yours? You have put the girl at risk, and yourself, and all of us.”

The young woman’s brows rose a little. “You care about our safety? That surprises me. I’m not some foolish goodwife after love potions. I need help: real help. But for that I would never have set foot here, believe me.”

She reached up an elegant hand to adjust the silver clasp that held her cloak, and Nessa saw the fine rings she wore, rings with bright jewels and delicate filigree work. This was no farmer’s wife, no warrior’s consort. Indeed, if her memory served her right, Nessa thought she had seen this young woman before under very different circumstances. She must tread carefully here.

“I’ve said I will help if I can. But you must tell me the truth; the cure must be made strictly in accordance with the malady, or it will have no effect, or the wrong effect. That is why you cannot use an intermediary.” Nessa glanced at the girl. “I imagine you wish to discuss this in private.”

The young woman inclined her head.

“Right,” Nessa said. “The girl must go into the cottage with the old woman. We’ll talk out here in the open. Be quick, child. Go on now, Rona won’t eat you.”

The girl sidled into the cottage; the door closed firmly behind her.

“Now,” said Nessa, sitting down on one of the stone benches by the remnants of the cold fire, and motioning the other woman to be seated. “Tell me your name.”

The dark eyes stared back at her unblinking. “I cannot do that.”

“You must, if you want me to help.”

“Margaret.”