Also by Juliet Marillier Title Page Copyright Dedication Acknowledgments Character List Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 This list includes some characters who are mentioned by name but don''t appear in the story. Oran: prince of Dalriada Flidais: Oran''s wife Donagan: Oran''s companion Deirdre: Flidais''s chief handmaid Nuala: maidservant Mhairi: maidservant Seanan: man-at-arms Blackthorn: wisewoman, formerly known as Saorla ( seer -la) Grim: her companion Emer: ( eh -ver) Blackthorn''s young assistant Ruairi: king of Dalriada; Oran''s father Eabha: queen of Dalriada; Oran''s mother Sochla: Eabha''s sister Master Caillín: court physician Rodan: man-at-arms Domnall: senior man-at-arms Eoin: man-at-arms Lochlan: man-at-arms Geiléis: (ge- lace, hard g ) the Lady of Bann Senach: steward Dau: (rhymes with now ) manservant Cronan: manservant Caisín: (ka- sheen ) seamstress, married to Rian Onchú: senior man-at-arms Donncha: man-at-arms Rian: man-at-arms, married to Caisín Mechar: man-at-arms (deceased) Ana: a cottager Fursa: her baby son Father Tomas: head of the monastic foundation Brother Dufach: one of the monks Brother Fergal: gardener Brother Ríordán: (reer-dawn) head archivist Brother Dathal: (do-hal) assistant archivist Brother Marcán: infirmarian Brother Tadhg: (t¯ig) a tall novice Brother Eoan: (ohn) keeper of pigeons Brother Galen: scribe and scholar (deceased) Bathsheba: his cat (deceased) Brother Conall: a novice Lily: a young noblewoman Ash (Brión): a young nobleman Muiríol: (mi- reel ) Lily''s maidservant Mathuin: chieftain of Laois Lorcan: king of Mide Flannan: a traveling scholar Ripple: Flannan''s dog Conmael: a fey nobleman Master Oisín: (a- sheen ) a druid Cass: Blackthorn''s husband (deceased) Brennan: Blackthorn''s son (deceased) Brother Gwenneg: an acquaintance from Geiléis''s past Cú Chulainn: (ko o hull -en) a legendary Irish hero PROLOGUE Geiléis Rain had swollen the river to a churning mass of gray. The tower wore a soft shroud of mist; though it was past dawn, no cries broke the silence. Perhaps he slept, curled tight on himself, dreaming of a time when he was whole and hale and handsome. Perhaps he knew even in his sleep that she still kept watch, her shawl clutched around her against the cold, her gaze fixed on his shuttered window. But he might have forgotten who she was, who he was, what had befallen them. It had been a long time ago. So long that she had no more tears to shed.
So long that one summer blurred into another as the years passed in an endless wait for the next chance, and the next, to put it right. She did not know if he could see her. There were the trees, and the water, and on mornings like this, the mist lying thick between them. Only the top of the tower was visible, with its shuttered window. Another day. The sun was fighting to break through; here and there the clouds of vapor showed a sickly yellow tinge. Gods, she loathed this place! And yet she loved it. How could she not? How could she want to be anywhere but here? Downstairs, her household was stirring now.
Someone was clanking pots, raking out the hearth, starting to make breakfast. A part of her considered that a warm meal on a chilly morning would be welcome--her people sought to please her. To make her, if not happy, then at least moderately content. It was no fault of theirs that she could not enjoy such simple pleasures as a full belly, the sun on her face, or a good night''s sleep. Her body was strung tight with waiting. Her heart was a constant, aching hurt in her chest. What if there was no ending this? What if it went on and on forever? "Lady Geiléis?" Senach tapped on the door, then entered. Her steward was a good servant, discreet and loyal.
"Breakfast is ready, my lady," he said. "I would not have disturbed you, but the fellow we sent to the Dalriadan court has returned, and he has some news." She left her solitary watch, following her man out of the chamber. As Senach closed the door behind them, the monster in the tower awoke and began to scream. * * * "Going away," she said. "For how long?" "King Ruairi will be attending the High King''s midsummer council, my lady." Her messenger was gray-faced with exhaustion; had he traveled all night? His mead cup shook in his hands. "The queen will go south with him.
They will be gone for at least two turnings of the moon, and maybe closer to three." "Who will accompany them? Councilors? Advisers? Friends and relations?" "All the king''s senior councilors. Queen Eabha''s attendants. A substantial body of men-at-arms. But Cahercorcan is a grand establishment; the place will still be full of folk." "This son of King Ruairi''s," she said. "The one you say will be looking after his father''s affairs while they''re gone--what manner of man is he? Of what age? Has he a wife?" "Prince Oran is young, my lady. Three-and-twenty and newly married.
There''s a child on the way. The prince does not live at Cahercorcan usually, as he has his own holding farther south. He is more a man of scholarship than a man of action." "Respected by his father''s advisers, those of them who remained behind?" A scholar. That might be helpful. "Is he a clever man?" "I could not say, my lady. He''s well enough respected. They say he''s a little unusual.
" "Unusual?" "They say he likes to involve all his folk in the running of household and farm. And I mean all, from the lowliest groom to the most distinguished of nobles. Consults the community, lets everyone have a say. There''s some at court think that odd; they''d sooner he just told folk what to do, as his father would." "I see." Barely two turnings of the moon remained until midsummer. After the long, wearying search, the hopes dashed, the possibilities all come to nothing, she had been almost desperate enough to head south and throw herself at King Ruairi''s feet, foolish as that would have been. Common sense had made her send the messenger first, with orders to bring back a report on the situation at court.
She had not expected anything to come of it; most certainly not this. Her heart beat faster; her mind raced ahead. The king gone, along with his senior advisers. The queen absent too. The prince in charge, a young man who would know nothing of her story . Could this be a real opportunity at last? Dared she believe it? Perhaps Prince Oran really was the key. Perhaps he could find her the kind of woman she had so long sought without success. She''d have to ride for Cahercorcan soon--but not too soon, or she risked arriving before the king and his entourage had departed.
It was the prince she needed to speak to, not his father. How might she best present her case? Perhaps this scholarly prince loved tales of magic and mystery. She must tell it in a way that would capture his imagination. And his sympathy. She rose to her feet. "Thank you," she said to the messenger. "Go to the kitchen; Dau will give you some breakfast. Then sleep.
I''ll send for you later if I have further questions." Though likely he had told all he knew. She''d sent him to the royal household in the guise of a traveler passing through and seeking a few nights'' shelter. There''d be limits to what a lad like him could learn in such a place. "Senach," she said after the messenger was gone, "it seems that this time we have a real opportunity." At last. Oh, at last! She had hardly dared to dream this might be possible. "You understand what this means?" "Yes, my lady.
You''ll be wanting to travel south." "I will, and soon. Speak to Onchú about an escort, will you? In my absence, you will be in charge of the household." "Of course, my lady." A pause, then Senach added, "When do you plan to depart?" "Not for a few days." Every instinct pulled her to leave now, straightaway, without delay; any wait would be hard to bear. But they must be sure the royal party had left court. "Let''s say seven days.
That should be long enough." "When might I expect you to return, my lady?" Her lips made the shape of a smile, but there was no joy in her. She had forgotten how it felt to be happy. "Before midsum.