Tower of Thorns Read Free Page B

we did.”
    â€œSomething else too,” said Grim. “Escaped felons. We may be that, and if we went south we might find ourselves thrown back in that place or worse. But Lady Flidais is hardly going to take Mathuin’s side. He’s her father’s enemy.”
    The thought of telling Flidais the truth—of telling anyone—made me feel sick. “Trust me,” I said, “that is a really bad idea. What lies in the past should stay there. I shouldn’t need to tell you that. Let word get out about who we are and where we came from, and that word can make its way back to Mathuin.”
    â€œMm-hm.” He poured water from the kettle into the bucket and started to wash the dishes. After a while he said, “Why don’t you ask him, then? Conmael?”
    â€œWhat, you think he’s going to appear if I go out there and click my fingers? I need to know now, Grim. Before I go and see Flidais.”
    â€œMm-hm.” He looked at me, the cloth in one hand and a dripping platter in the other. “What were the words of it, the promise you made to the fellow? Was it
live at Winterfalls
, or was it only
live in Dalriada
?”
    I thought about it: the night when I’d been waiting to die, the terrible trembling that had racked my body, the way time had passed so slowly, moment by painful moment, Grim’s presence in the cell opposite the only thing that had stopped me from trying to kill myself. Then the strange visitor, a fey man whom I’d never clapped eyes on before, and the offer that had saved my life.
    â€œI’m not sure I remember his exact words. One part of the promise was that I must travel north to Dalriada and not return to Laois. That I mustn’t seek out Mathuin or pursue vengeance. Then he said,
You’ll live at Winterfalls
. Or,
You must live at Winterfalls
. He told me that the prince lived here, and that the local folk had no healer. And that we could live in this house; he was specific about the details.”
    â€œMaybe you don’t need to ask him,” said Grim. “Isn’t part of the promise about doing good? Looking after Lady Flidais, that’s doing good. Sweet, kind lady, been through a lot. And her baby might be king someday. If it’s a boy.”
    â€œSome folk might say a future king would be better served by a court physician.”
    â€œLady Flidais doesn’t want a court physician,” Grim said. “She wants you.”
    â€œWhy are you arguing in favor of going? You’ll hate it even more than I will.”
    â€œBe sorry to leave the house. And the garden. Just when we’ve got it all sorted out.” Grim spoke calmly, as if he did not care much one way or the other. His manner was a lie. It was a carapace of protection. He had become expert at hiding his feelings, and only rarely did he slip up. But I knew what must be in his heart. He had spent days and days fixing up the derelict cottage when we first came to Dreamer’s Wood. He had labored over both house and garden until everything was perfect. Then the cottage had burned down, and he had done it all over again. I wasn’t the only one who would find going away hard. “But it’s not forever,” Grim said. He tried for a smile but could not quite manage it. “Lads from the brewery can keep an eye on the place. Emer could drop in, make sure things are in order.”
    I said nothing. A lengthy stay at court would be miserable for both of us. We had a natural distrust of kings, chieftains and the like, based on our experience with Mathuin of Laois. That Oran and Flidais were exceptions did not mean a stay at Cahercorcan would be easier, since the king and queen would leave a good part of their household behind. We preferred to be on our own, Grim and I, which was why Conmael had suggested the cottage as a likely home for us. Conmael, a stranger, had somehow known that living at a distance from the settlement was the