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cart on in the morning with a load of vegetables and some chickens for the market. Tadhg wiped his plate clean with a scrap of bread, then rose to depart.
    â€œRemember what I told you, Thorvald,” he said mildly. “Take time to consider. On reflection, a monster can become no more than a fleeting shadow, an unassailable mountain a gentle rise. You are young; you rush to seek answers, heedless of the cost. If you allow time, you may find that all you need to do is wait.”
    Thorvald let him finish. There was no point in arguing. The truth was simple. He bore his father’s legacy, and it marked him as surely as Eyvind’s courage and goodness had marked his small son Kinart. If that child had not been snatched by the sea, he’d doubtless have grown up into the sort of leader folk followed to the ends of the earth. Tadhg had missed the point. To know himself, to look into his own spirit, Thorvald must find out what kind of man his father truly was. And there was only one way that could be done. It was perilous. His mother wouldn’t like it. Sam would take a lot of convincing. Nonetheless, he must attempt it, or forever live with the knowledge that he had not faced up to the truth. If his father still lived, he would find him. Itwas a quest: grand, challenging, heroic. Do this, and his life might come to mean something after all.
    Sam was not easily surprised. He listened calmly to the story: Margaret, Somerled, Ulf, battles and blood, murder and exile. From time to time he sipped his ale and nodded. Once or twice he frowned. One of the reasons Sam had remained a friend for so long was his talent for calm. He was almost as good a listener as Creidhe, and a lot less inclined to make helpful suggestions when they weren’t wanted. When Thorvald came to the end of the tale, Sam did not comment at once. He poked the fire, topped up his friend’s ale and let a cat in the back door, all in complete silence.
    â€œYou want to borrow the
Sea Dove
,” he stated eventually, his blue eyes thoughtful.
    â€œNot exactly,” replied Thorvald, a wave of relief sweeping through him that Sam had understood this part of it without needing to be told. “I’m not enough of a sailor to take her there myself. You’d have to come with me. I could pay you, if that would help.”
    Sam’s brows lifted a little. He took a mouthful of ale. “How long do you plan being away? From full moon to full moon, or maybe a season? Perhaps more if the wind carries you astray? There’s a lot of fish to be caught in such a time, enough to pay for a fellow’s wedding and furnish his cottage nice and snug: best woolens, fine linens, a piece of seasoned wood for a cradle. Enough to cover his hand’s wages. What if the boat’s damaged? That’s my livelihood down there, Thorvald. She may be a sturdy craft, but she’s not made for that kind of ocean voyaging.”
    The words were less than encouraging. On the other hand, there was a certain note in Sam’s voice, and a certain glint in his eye, that showed his interest had been sparked.
    â€œIt needn’t be long.” Thorvald leaned forward, elbows on knees, keen to press what little advantage he had. “Brother Tadhg didn’t seem to think it was very far. We could be there and back again almost before anyone knows it. We could tell them—”
    Sam raised a hand, cutting off the flow of words. “Not so fast. What about when we get there,
if
we get there? You planning to pop in, announce that you’re this fellow’s son, then sail right home again? What if you can’t find him? What if you do and he wants you to stay? Where does that leave me?”
    The smile that curved Thorvald’s lips felt like a mockery. “I can assure you that won’t happen. I’m not expecting to be greeted with open arms, even supposing we do find what we’re looking for. I’ve no intention at all of