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think they were perhaps not lying.
    But deer can be found on Colonsay as well, and how long does it take to shoot one with a lucky arrow?
    “That was a nasty bruise your sister had on the one cheek,” I said, after a bit. “However was she getting it?”
    Alasdair shrugged his shoulders, and Angus answered. “Och, perhaps himself was hitting her again. He’ll no be hitting her the now, at least.”
    “He hit her often then?” I did not remember my father hitting my mother, but then she had died when I was young, and my father had not come to Islay all that often.
    “Often enough, although she would deny it. A black heart he had, for all that he was a man of God.”
    The close air in the blackhouse suddenly stifled me. I drained my cup, stood up abruptly, and went out into the rainy afternoon without another word.

Chapter 4
    T hinking of the bruise on Sheena’s cheek and what her brothers had told me put me in mind of the Beatons. They were physicians, after all, and so instead of heading towards my own fine house in Scalasaig I turned my steps up the hill towards Dun Evin. The rain let up as I climbed, but left the track up to the dun wet and slippery. I was breathing hard when I reached the top, and, my leg aching, turned for a moment before entering the walls to look out on the landscape.
    Although with the low clouds the view was not so fine as you could be seeing on other days, I could still see to the east the Paps of Jura and the bulk of Islay some miles away across the water. It was not difficult to understand why the old chiefs had chosen this site for their home, as easily defensible as it was.
    A pair of Uncle Gillespic’s luchd-tighe lounged against the stone and wooden defenses, which surrounded the Dun, and just then the sun peeked out through the clouds, sending glints reflecting off of their shields and great swords that leaned against the stones of the fortress wall.
    “So it is Muirteach, is it?” commented Fergus Mor, with a bit of a smile. I had known him since my childhood days there, in my uncle’s hall. Fergus it was who had helped me take my first red deer in the hunt. “And how was it at Donald Dubh’s this afternoon?” he asked.
    I grinned a little sheepishly, for him having guessed so quickly how I had spent the afternoon, but only replied, “Fine enough.”
    “We were hearing about the Prior,” interjected the other guard, curiosity evident in his voice. He must, of course, have heard of my mission to Islay.
    “Aye,” said Fergus. “I am that sorry for you Muirteach. The man was your father.”
    The words were kindly meant, and brought an unexpected lump to my throat. As I thanked Fergus, I noted how gray streaks now mixed with the chestnut in his beard, and felt suddenly old myself, for all that I was only three and twenty.
    Once inside the Dun I headed towards the great hall, a rectangular building against the south wall. I blinked as I entered, my eyes adjusting to the dark interior and my nose smelling the acrid odor of the peat fire. After a moment I was able to see Uncle Gillespic, and my aunt Euluasaid sitting at the large table, along with Fearchar Beaton and his daughter.
    “Och, Muirteach,” my uncle greeted me, “it is yourself. And so His Lordship himself was wanting you to be finding the killer.” He beamed. “It is just as I was thinking he would do, and a fine thing indeed it will be to see you bring that black-hearted murderer to justice.”
    I settled down on a bench, not thinking it such a fine thing as my uncle did. My aunt embraced me warmly, and insisted, as I had hoped she would, that I sit down and eat with them. I watched her put more food on the table: good cheese, bannocks, butter, some venison, fresh milk and honey.
    The harper who had come with us from Islay to Colonsay sat closer to the hearth, playing a tune. I would have liked to hear the song about the taking of Castle Sween, but the harper had chosen something less martial and more mournful