Heart's Blood

outside, we had reached one of the towers. The treads were as worn in the middle as the ones leading to my bedchamber. There were landings, some with rooms opening from them, but Muirne did not pause long enough for me to get more than a quick glimpse in. I had thought perhaps this was the north tower, but where I caught a view from a window I saw no trace of the sea, only dark forest untouched by the light of the rising sun. Another showed mist hanging low over bare fields, which was entirely wrong for any side of the fortress, as far as I knew. The higher we climbed, the harder the claws of unease gripped my stomach.

We reached the topmost landing.There was a low door leading from it.

“It’s in here,” said Muirne.

The little chamber held two storage chests and a colony of spiders, but nothing else save a steep stairway in one corner leading to a trapdoor up above. It was open; I glimpsed pale sky.

“You wish to climb up?” Muirne asked. “There is a wide view from the top: the hill, the settlement, the region all around.”

No! shrieked a little voice inside me.After the mirrors, I simply wanted to get my clothing and go. But Muirne was making an unusual effort to be friendly. I should do the same. “All right,” I said. “Provided it’s safe.You go first.”

I was somewhat relieved, on emerging at the top of the tower, to find that it was securely edged by a waist- high stone wall. I had wondered if the view would be as odd and changeable as the vistas from those windows, but I looked out over the hillside and, turning, saw slow smoke rising from the morning fires of the settlement at its foot, and sheep grazing on level ground to the north of the wooded rise. In the distance was a blue-gray smudge that must be the sea. It was not so very far off. To the northeast, along the coast, I could see another settlement with a defensive palisade around it. “What is that place, my lady?” I asked.

“It lies beyond the borders of Anluan’s territory.” Unspoken but plain in her tone was, Therefore it does not matter.

I looked closer to home.The garden still slept. Down below the towers the sun had not reached the wilderness of bush and briar, the dark pond and the shadowy edges of the woodland. I caught a glimpse of Olcan striding out through a little archway in the fortress wall with a scythe over his shoulder. Fianchu bounded ahead.

“Where is the farm?” I asked. “Magnus spoke of cows and other stock.”

“Down below the wall.” She was thrifty with words.

I tried to engage her in conversation. The summer would be much easier if we were on good terms.“I’ve been surprised that they can keep all this going when there’s so little contact from the outside.”

Her features tightened. She had perhaps taken this as a criticism of her beloved Anluan. “That need not concern you,” she said. After a moment she seemed to relent. Putting a hand on my elbow, she steered me to a vantage point from which I could glimpse a cleared area in the woodland, beyond the opening Olcan had used. “If you find cows and the men who tend them interesting,” Muirne said, “you can walk to the farm that way. It isn’t far.”

“Through the forest?” I queried. “But what about these presences everyone mentions, the ones that the villagers think so dangerous? I know they’re real; I heard them myself, coming up the hill. I felt their touch.”

“The path to the farm is a safe walk;just remember to take the left fork where it branches. But these villagers are correct.There are many perils in these woods.To tell you the truth, Caitrin, I am surprised you have stayed here so long.”

She was still holding my elbow, and it made me uncomfortable.“Long?” I echoed. “I’ve only been here a few days.”

“For Whistling Tor, that is long.” She released my elbow, but as I made to turn, her hand fastened on my shoulder. I gave an involuntary yelp, part pain, part fright; it was exactly the spot Cillian had most favored for gripping while he shook me. I was seized by a sudden mad conviction that she was about to push me over the parapet wall.

“Oh, did I hurt you?” Muirne’s grip slackened.“Or did you think you might fall? It’s a long way down, isn’t it? Best step back from the edge.”

I turned and breathed again.What had got into me? She’d think I was a bundle of nerves. “Could we go down and look at the clothing now?”

“Of course, Caitrin.”

The two chests in the tower room were full of women’s garments: gowns, tunics, shoes, head-cloths, under- shifts. Muirne crouched to lift out one item after another and spread them on the floor around her. Her expression was bland, her hands careful.

I knelt to examine these unexpected riches, my attention drawn by a bundle in the hue of wood violets. Unrolled, it proved to be a gown of soft wool that looked as if it might fit me quite well. There was a long over-tunic in a lighter shade that seemed to belong with it. I knew the outfit would look well with my rosy coloring and dark hair. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard Ita saying: It’s a pity you take after your mother.That mouth, that complexion, that figure, they’re sure to get you into trouble. With a sigh, I set the garments down.

“These things are lovely,” I said. “But they seem too fine for me to use.” Some of these items were very old; here and there the cloth had worn perilously thin. Like the documents in the library, these garments had not much life left in them.

“This would be suitable.” Muirne held up a severe gown of dull dark gray, the kind of thing a housekeeper might wear.

“It certainly wouldn’t show the dirt,” I observed. “But even the most creative seamstress could not make that fit me.” I could see at a glance that the garment had been made for someone tall and slender. “I wonder if I might salvage some of these other things.They are going to rags, but there are enough good pieces to make up into a useful gown or two. Someone would have to lend me a needle and thread.”

Muirne made no response.

I tried again.“Do I need to ask Lord Anluan’s permission before I take anything?”

“No,” she said, sounding suddenly frosty. “My permission is adequate.”