Heart's Blood

me. Remember them all. As far as I knew there had only been three: Mella, Lioch and Emer. There was a girdle of dark gray wool that seemed to match Mella’s ancient gowns, and this I passed to Eichri. I took a skirt that had likely been Lioch’s—it was much too small for me—thinking I might combine the fabric with that of Emer’s ruined gown to make a wearable garment. I folded this and passed it to my companion. “That’s all,” I said, closing the two chests and picking up the mirror again.

“Women’s magic?” Eichri queried with a grin.

“I haven’t a magical bone in my body, Eichri.”

“You don’t know your own power,” he chuckled. “You’ve worked some changes here, Caitrin; changes we never thought to see in this lonely old place.”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you brought a little doll with you to Whistling Tor, a treasure that contains the love of your family. And since you fashioned this poppet’s clothing anew, it holds Anluan’s family as well.”

“You seem to know rather a lot.” I was sure this was not what he had meant when he spoke of changes.

“As I said once before, word gets around.”

“Whatever it is, magic or only instinct, this feels right. You spoke of dangerous powers within the host, a force with ill intent. I’ll use anything I can to counter that. Women have suffered here at Whistling Tor because of Nechtan’s wrongdoing. It’s time someone remembered their strength. If that’s women’s magic, then it’s long overdue an airing.”

“If I were not so burdened, I would applaud you, Caitrin. Let us hope you can work a miracle.”

“You might ask those brethren of yours to offer up a prayer or two for good measure,” I said as we left the tower room.“A miracle is what Anluan needs.”

chapter eight

Seven days until full moon. I was sorely tempted to march over to Anluan’s quarters in the south tower, bang on his door and insist that he come out and talk to me. Of course I did nothing of the kind. His difficulties went far beyond any in my own experience, and I would not help him by losing control myself.

The oak-framed mirror hung on my wall now. The child loved it, examining her reflection with eager interest, making faces at herself, even uttering a hesitant laugh at the unaccustomed sight. For her this mirror seemed to function in quite the ordinary way. As for the mirror voice, I had not heard it again, but the artifact felt like a companion, and I was glad I had brought it down to my chamber. It seemed to me that the lonely shades of the departed women were no longer prisoners in the tower, but shared my own space, as if we were sisters.

I encountered Muirne in the kitchen as I was returning from a trip to the privy.

“I hear you have taken a mirror from the tower room, Caitrin.”

“That’s right,” I said, keeping my manner polite. Would it be worth trying to enlist her help? She was closer to Anluan than anyone, though of recent times it seemed he was shutting her out as well; on the rare occasions when I had seen her, she had been drifting about the gardens alone. “I hope you have no objections.”

“You are not free to help yourself to anything you want. That runs perilously close to stealing.”

The look in her eye worried me. In the light of the current crisis, this seemed a trivial matter.“My boots were leaking,” I said.“I needed another pair. That was what took me up to the tower. And you did say nobody wanted those old things.”

“Boots were not all you brought away.” She looked me up and down. I had dressed for courage today, in the new skirt I’d made by combining Emer’s shredded gown with Lioch’s rose pink garment. It was not an outfit I could have worn in the streets of Market Cross, but I felt I was carrying the other women with me, and that seemed right.

“You’ll remember how badly damaged the violet gown was, Muirne. I think I’ve made good use of materials that would otherwise have moldered away in the tower. As for the mirror, a woman needs one in her chamber.”

“These are not ordinary mirrors. They are ...” She gestured vaguely, as if there were no words adequate to describe the power of Nechtan’s creations.

“I know that, but this one seems benign. It will be helpful in the mornings when I’m getting dressed.”

“Why would your appearance matter?” She lifted her brows.

“You take a certain pride in yours.” My gaze traveled over the neatly pressed gown, the perfectly folded veil.

“Yes, but ...” She gave a delicate shrug. Yes, but you are only a scribe.

“What I borrowed was taken in a spirit of respect,” I told her. “Those things in the tower are memories of the women of Whistling Tor. I don’t want those women to be forgotten.”

She looked baffled. “You are not one of the women of Whistling Tor, Caitrin.You’re going home at the end of the summer.”

“By the end of the summer we could all be gone,” I said.“Muirne, the Normans are coming in just a few days to talk to Anluan. I know you’re very close to him. Could you ask him if he’s prepared to listen to an idea I have?”

“An idea.What idea?”

“An idea for how he might handle this ... visit. A way it might be safe for him to go.”

“You think to tell Lord Anluan how he should conduct himself?”

I bit back my first response. “Of course not. He is the chieftain; he must make the decision. It’s a suggestion, that’s all. A good one, which he should listen to. Will you ask him, please? This threat is real, Muirne. It’s not going away.”