Heart's Blood

that look on Anluan’s face and the familiar way he had wrapped his arms one over the other, as if to set a shield between himself and the world.

“It must be something of significance.” Rioghan had his palms together, the tips of his fingers at his lips; I could almost see his mind working. “Otherwise they’d be quite willing to pass it to Magnus and ask him to deliver it.Whatever it is, you cannot ignore it, Anluan.”

“What do you expect me to do,” Anluan responded furiously, “send the host out to snatch it from this messenger’s hands? I cannot go beyond the boundary!”

“Of course you need not go,” said Muirne, who was standing close to him, her hands demurely folded together, her manner eerily calm.“There’s no need to do anything.These Normans will not wish to be near the Tor after sunset.When night falls, they will go away.”

I stared at her, unable to believe she was serious. Her assessment of the situation was a child’s.

“I wish it were so simple,” Eichri said. “But for once the councillor here is right. Norman lords don’t send armed warriors to call on local chieftains just to share a jug of ale and exchange the time of day. They don’t insist on delivering messages into the hands of those chieftains if all they want is permission to ride from here to there, or to purchase a cow or two.”

“Should such a message not be delivered because the intended recipient refuses to accept it,” said Rioghan, and he turned his dark eyes on Anluan with a measuring look, “and should that message contain some kind of warning, the sender might well assume he’s been given sanction to proceed with whatever is intended. A move to seize another man’s property, for instance. Or an attack.”

“Don’t you think I’d go down there if I could?” The words burst out of Anluan. “What do you think I am, a fool and a coward? If things were different—if I were—” I heard the anguish in his voice, and my heart bled for him. “One step beyond that line, one single step, and the entire host could descend on the settlement and destroy it.”

“Are you sure?” I ventured. “They may have changed since Nechtan’s time. From what I’ve seen, there are some amongst them who just want a purpose.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m sure or not!” He turned on me, his voice a snarl. “The risk is too high, and I won’t do it! Keep out of this, Caitrin!”

It felt as if he’d slapped me.

“She’s trying to help you,” Magnus said quietly.“We all are. And time’s running short. I’m in agreement with Rioghan: this problem won’t go away of itself.There must be a strategy we can put in place.”

“A strategy? There can be no strategy!”

But there was. I had seen it, and I thought some of the others had seen it, too, but were not quite prepared to offer it in the face of Anluan’s rage and distress. A challenge; I must be brave. “You need not go beyond the boundary, Anluan,” I said. “Didn’t these Normans say they were prepared to give the message to your chief councillor?”

“What difference does that make?” Anluan retorted, glowering at me. “This is not a court with all the trappings: councillors, advisers, lackeys for every purpose. It is a shadowy, ruined, deserted excuse for a chieftain’s household. And I am a wretched apology for a chieftain.”

“I don’t know about lackeys,” I said shakily, “but you have a chief councillor right here.” I nodded towards Rioghan.“He can go.When I first met Rioghan and Eichri we were all beyond the foot of the Tor. If he can walk out there once, he can do it again.”

All eyes turned on me.There was a silence.

“Only one problem, Caitrin,” Eichri said. “Remember those missiles folk were hurling, the day you arrived? I know you thought the two of us were ordinary men. But you were more than a little distracted at the time. No Norman soldier is going to look at my friend here and see anything other than a ... than something distinctly odd.”

“He can wear a hooded cloak. He can talk to them politely, saying as little as possible. By the time he gets back down there, the light will be fading.”

Rioghan’s thin lips curved in one of his rare smiles. He said nothing.

“If it would help,” I added, “I could go with him. I’m not distinctly odd, as far as I know. And although I don’t speak French, I can probably manage Latin.”

“Excellent idea,” Magnus said. “I’ll come along to protect you.”

I saw the bitter denial in Anluan’s eyes and flinched before it. He opened his mouth to utter what would no doubt be another furious outburst.

“Of course, it’s not our decision,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “It’s yours.We’ll only do it if you think it’s best.”

There was a little sound from Magnus, instantly suppressed. In the silence that followed, Fianchu padded over to the hearth, found that nobody had thought to provide a bone, and went back to stand by Olcan, looking hopeful.

“You’re not to take Caitrin out of my sight,” Anluan said, tight-lipped. I blinked in astonishment.

“Then you’ll need to come down as far as the boundary and wait where you can see us,” said Magnus calmly. I remembered that he was a warrior, accustomed to making decisions and to taking orders.

“I’ll wait at the sentinel trees,” said Anluan. “We’d best do this now. Olcan, I want you and Fianchu to stay up here, just in case.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Olcan, and nobody corrected him.

There were five of them, waiting in a line, seated on their horses. I imagined they were unwilling to dismount so near the forest’s edge.Their iron- ring garments were impressive: in addition to the long shirts that covered them to the knee, three of the five wore separate pieces wrapped around forearm and lower leg, and one man wore a kind of hood that protected his neck under his metal helm. They were well armed: I saw daggers, swords, an axe and two spears. One man wore a long robe with a cloak over it; he, too, bore a sword at his belt, but no protective mail. A leather bag by his saddle suggested he was the bearer of the message.The fifth man, by his side, was in simple breeches and tunic under a