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"I dinna recall it, either," she snapped. "Consider it a gift. There are a thousand things you could do, but no, you want to skulk about the forest like some poor doomed outcast, wasting all your talents!"

He laughed shortly. "My talents, is it? My men are dead, my pledge is broken, and my kin have turned me out. Oh, I'm a fine prospect! Of course, there are still some things I can manage. I can kill a man in twenty different ways—now there's a talent for you! Makes me verra popular among men who need killing done. The trouble is, I've had my fill of fighting battles that have naught to do with me and killing men who've done me no wrong. And that is all I'm good for now."

"Don't be ridiculous. You could leave this place and start again, try something new. But no, of course you wouldn't do that—'tis too much effort!"

"Well, lady, since ye are so free with your advice tonight, where do you suggest I go?"

"To Ireland," she said, then stopped, surprised. "Yes, to Ireland," she said after a moment. "Why not? You could take service there... My father would welcome you to Tullyleah, and he knows every family in Donegal."

Alistair glanced at her, brows raised. "You mean I should try my hand at killing a few Irishmen? It seems hardly worth the journey. From all I've heard, they bleed and die just the same as we do over here."

"You don't have to be a hired sword," Deirdre said with exaggerated patience. "You are a seasoned commander, Sir Alistair, and your reputation—"

"—is black as pitch," he said flatly. "Oh, it may not have carried as far as Ireland, but there is enough coming and going that it won't stay secret long. Who would want me then, Deirdre?"

"My father," she said at once. "He would. When he learns what you have done for us, he'll find a place for you, and he won't care what anyone says about it, either. Father is... well, he goes his own way, always has. And he would be very grateful."

Why had she not thought of this before? Alistair deserved some return for all the trouble he had taken and she was pleased to offer him such a perfect solution to his problems. Perfect in more ways than one, she thought, looking at him sideways.

Just the thought of Alistair living at Tullyleah, where she would see him every day, made her heart beat a little faster. He could redeem himself in Ireland. He could be more than a homeless outcast. If he wanted to, he could be a very eligible suitor. If he wanted to. But did he?

"I thank you, lady," Alistair said stiffly, "but I have no' been reduced to taking charity just yet."

"Charity?" she laughed. "Oh, it wouldn't be that. We cannot afford charity. We cannot afford anything! Between the O'Neills and the O'Donnels, there's precious little left of the MacLochlanns. But we still have Tullyleah."

Oh, if only she could tell him how wonderful it was! She could almost see it, the ruined walls and one standing tower, just at the top of the cliff, with the sea below and the endless sky above.

"It is so beautiful, Alistair—oh, it's old and a bit crumbly, I suppose, not grand at all. But it is always full of music and dancing... Everyone comes to Tullyleah! Even if the rain does drip on their heads, it doesn't matter. They come anyway and we have such good times..."

He was staring at her in surprise, and she let her words trail into silence, suddenly embarrassed at her enthusiasm.

"MacLochlann?" he said. "That is your family?"

"Well, yes," Deirdre answered, puzzled. "Why?"

"Thus fell the MacLochlanns," Alistair sang softly.

"Kings of Aileach and monarchs of Eire,

Deprived of a kingdom

Through the fortunes of battle

And the schemes of their rivals;

Trapped between swords,

Red ran their blood,

On the hills of Caim Eirge."

In his own voice he said, "That is your family? Kings of Aileach and monarchs of Eire?"

"Several hundred years ago," Deirdre said, surprised and a bit embarrassed. "Wherever did hear that bit of song?"

"We had a tutor when I was younger, came from Ulster way." He was looking at her very strangely, as though he had never really seen her before. "Aye," he added quietly, as though speaking to himself. "That explains it."

"Explains what?"