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summer. Someone who can read Latin and write. Write properly, I mean. Fast and accurate , that’s what he said.”
    My heart began to race.
    Tomas snorted in disbelief. “Wouldn’t you need a cleric for that?” he asked.“You won’t get any of them near Whistling Tor, the way things stand. You’re wasting your time.All right, I’ll ask. But you know what the answer will be.”
    As I gathered my belongings, the visitor hefted the bundle onto his shoulder and headed off in the general direction of the fortified barrier. By the time Tomas came back in with a load of firewood, Magnus had disappeared from view.
    “That man who was outside,” I said. “Magnus, was it? Did he say they needed a scribe up at the fortress?” I prayed that this was the gift it appeared to be: a remarkable opportunity of both hiding place and paid work.
    “He did say that.” Tomas set down the wood and regarded me, hands on hips. “Someone who can read Latin.Why he asked me, I can’t imagine. It’s hard enough to find him a simple cowherd, let alone a scholar. Sounds like it’s a big job, whatever it is; could take the whole summer. I’ll tell you the truth, Caitrin.There’s not a soul in the region would agree to spend a season in that place, not for all the silver in Connacht. Not that it matters, since none of us can read anyway, Latin, Irish or anything else.”
    “Who is Magnus, exactly? A servant? He works for the chieftain, Anluan, is that his name?”
    “Steward, I suppose you could call Magnus. Been there since Irial’s time. Hired as a fighter; stayed on when Irial died. Magnus is a foreigner, one of the gallóglaigh . Doesn’t do much fighting now. More of a farmer and jack of all trades. I can’t imagine why he stays.”
    “So there are ordinary folk living on the hill, not just these . . . presences?” I’d have to run to catch up with Magnus before he disappeared up the path into the woods.
    Tomas’s gaze sharpened.“Magnus is the most ordinary it gets up there,” he said.
    “I must go after him,” I said.“I can do the job. I can read and write. I’m a trained scribe, and I need work.Will the barrier still be open?”
    “You can read?” Tomas’s incredulity was not so surprising; people tended to respond like this when they heard about my skills. “A young woman like you? That’s the strangest thing I ever heard.”
    “What you told me last night was a lot stranger,” I said.“Tomas, I have to run or I won’t catch up with him.”
    “Whoa, whoa, now wait a bit.” Tomas looked genuinely alarmed. “That story you heard last night might have been hard to swallow, but it was simple truth.You’d only need to spend a few days here to discover that for yourself. I’ll accept that maybe you’re a scholar—why would you lie about such a thing?—but as I said to Magnus, no scribe in his right mind would touch this job. I didn’t take you for a fool, lass.”
    “I have to tell you something,” I said, deciding to risk part of the truth. “I’m being followed and I don’t want to be found. I didn’t do anything wrong, but there’s someone after me and I need to get away. And I do need paid work, quite badly.Will you ask the men to let me through the barrier, please?”
    He didn’t like it, and nor did the men who were on duty by the fence this morning, a different group from last night. But the barrier was still open.They were just beginning to replace the iron bars when I got there.
    “You’d be safe enough with us in the village,”Tomas protested. “I told you, nobody comes here.”
    I pictured Cillian and his friends, big, strong individuals with limited imagination. Cillian would come after me, I knew it in my bones. If only out of pride, he would come.“I’ll take my chances with the fortress,” I said, not letting myself think too hard. “But thank you.You’ve been kind.”
    “Good luck to you then,”Tomas said. “Stay on the path. Head straight uphill. My advice is, put