“Has Somerled sent a messenger yet asking for the king’s decision?” he asked cautiously. “Has Engus given an answer?”

“Not yet,” Tadhg answered, showing no surprise whatever at these questions. “The first day of spring, that was the deadline. We are coming close. But matters have overtaken Engus somewhat. His sister died this morning. It is a time of great sorrow for the Folk, made more painful yet by so many other losses since the summer. For these people the royal line is always the women’s line, and this lady was a princess in her own right.”

Eyvind bowed his head and said nothing.

“Tonight is a time of solemn ritual on the Whaleback,” Tadhg went on. “I saw them this morning, but I will not stay for that; it is an observance of deep mourning. All will gather there to bid the lady a last farewell, and the ceremony will last deep into the night. Once she is laid to rest perhaps Engus will be ready to make his decision.”

“I heard—it seemed to me—the king did not see this as a choice,” Eyvind ventured. “It seemed that he would sacrifice his people rather than agree to Somerled’s terms.”

Brother Tadhg was watching him intently. “It seemed to me thus, as well,” he said. “I believe we are poised on the edge of disaster, Eyvind. There are others on the Whaleback who agree with me.” There was a question in his tone.

Eyvind looked down toward the ruffled waters of the lake and the sweet soft curves of the hills beyond. He felt the strength of the great stone at his back, he saw how the sky here seemed so wide, so open that it bathed the land in light. “You remember,” he asked, “how you once spoke to me about truth? About being my own man?”

Tadhg nodded.

“How much time do you think we have left?” Eyvind asked quietly. “I am hoping he will listen to me, if I go there now and try to tell him—he is my friend, after all, almost a brother. How long before the first day of spring?”

“Long enough, warrior.” Tadhg’s eyes were bright. “But you should make haste. Your friend has gathered quite a force of armed men. My knowledge of warfare is somewhat limited, but it is plain even to me that Somerled will be ready to move the instant he hears from Engus. His men are hungry for battle.”

“It would not be battle,” Eyvind said, “but a bloody massacre. He must not do it. The treaty was ring-sworn; a man who breaks such an oath must bring down the gods’ fury not just on himself, but on all his people. He must listen to me. I should go now. It’s still a long way, and I’m not as strong as I was.”

“As to that,” observed Tadhg, “it seems to me you are a great deal stronger: a different man, almost. I think you have made a new friend since I saw you last.”