My name is Caitrin, daughter of Berach. My father trained me as a scribe. He was famous throughout our area for his fine calligraphy and undertook commissions for all the local chieftains. I can read and write both Latin and Irish, and I’m prepared to stay here all summer. I am certain I can do the job. Perhaps not that last bit—it implied a confidence I did not feel. Ita had told me often enough that women could never ply such crafts as penmanship as well as men could, and that I was deluding myself if I imagined I was any different. I knew she was expressing society’s view when she said that. Any commissions I had fulfilled had always been presented to customers as my father’s work. It had irked Father that such subterfuge was necessary if we wanted fair payment. Folk believed, generally, that all I did was mix inks, prepare quills and keep the workroom tidy.

Lord Anluan would likely be no different from others we had worked for. He might well find it hard to believe that anyone other than a monk could read and write, for secular scribes such as my father were a rare breed. As for convincing this chieftain to employ a young woman for such work, that might not be so hard, I thought, in the light of the difficulty Magnus seemed to be having in finding helpers who would stay.

Further around the wall there was an arched opening with the remnant of iron fastenings to either side. If there had been a gate to block this entry, it had long since crumbled away to nothing.The fortress would once have provided an impregnable refuge, a safe retreat for the inhabitants of local farms and settlements in time of war. The stone blocks that formed it were massive. I could not for the life of me imagine how they had been moved into place.

Everything was damp.The stones were covered with creeping mosses; small ferns had colonized every chink and crevice, and long-thorned briars clustered thickly around the base of the wall, a forbidding outer barrier. I looked up at the towers and was seized by dizziness. Fine day or not, their tips were lost in a misty shroud.