‘Aye, I made it all right.’ He stopped to break off one of the arrow shafts embedded in his hull. ‘I nearly didn’t make it back.’

He waded onto the shore and thrust the broken arrow at Solomon.

‘What is this? No, it is an arrow, I know that. What is the meaning of this?’ the Kenyan asked.

‘It means that as I sailed towards An Cobh, I could see black smoke rising into the sky. Most of the buildings are wooden: fires happen – I was worried for them but not for me. As I came into the harbour, a half-dozen men on the quay demanded that I surrender my boat in the name of the High King of Aeire. I was still a good distance away, and I’m glad they didn’t wait until I was alongside. There weren’t any other boats around, and that surprised me until I saw the tops of their masts all sticking out of the water.’

‘Which High King did they say they served?’ asked someone.

‘Like I was going to hang around and find out! They weren’t taking my boat, and as soon as they saw that I could turn round in a trice, they started calling out to me to stop. One of them had a bow and, God save me, he was good. I had to throw the cargo overboard or he would’ve done for me.’

‘Husband? What’s going on?’

‘I’m all right, Eithne.’ He took the woman in his arms, and she saw the state of his boat over his shoulder. She pushed him back and started checking him for wounds.

‘Not a scratch on me, wife. Leave me be.’

Solomon threw the arrow shaft down. It stuck, feathers up, in the sand. ‘Will someone explain what is going on? Who is this High King? Why is An Cobh burning?’

‘Who are we to explain the doings of the King of Coirc? He’s annoyed his neighbour, and they’ve laid siege to An Cobh. The city still stands, for the harbour is outside the main walls, but they must be losing because they’d never give the place up without a fight.’ macShiel swung his wife round by her hands. He pretended to be hard, but it was clear that he was glad to be home.

‘Will they come here? Are you not subjects of the king?’

‘That’s not how it works, Solomon. The Kenyan emperor might command huge armies with – what did you call them: elephants?’ macShiel’s mocking tone burned Solomon’s pride yet again. ‘It must have got serious for the two kings even to have drawn their swords. It’s a shame for An Cobh, but look at us. We don’t count in the schemes of great men, and we’re glad of it.’

‘I cannot believe you take this so lightly.’

‘If Father Padroig were here,’ said macShiel, ‘he’d say, “There’s more than enough evil in one day to be worrying about tomorrow.” Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home. With my wife,’ he added pointedly.

He strode away up the path to the town, and the crowd began to disperse. Some of them started off up the path themselves, while others formed small knots and pointed at macShiel’s boat.

‘Don’t you mind him, Solomon,’ said Rose. ‘It’s bad enough with the sea trying to kill you without some fool with a bow trying to spit you like a pigeon. If he’s angry enough, I might even get a grandchild out of this.’

‘Can you see what this means?’ said Solomon. ‘All those things you cannot make yourselves I will never be able to have. An Cobh is in flames!’

Rose naMoira linked her arm through Solomon’s and pulled him away. ‘Calm yourself, man. There are more markets than An Cobh, though that is the closest and the one we’ve always sold and bought at. There’s one at Loch Garman that I know about, south and west along the coast.’

‘Will not your king punish you for trading with another?’

‘Mercy, Solomon, why would he do that? If he can’t keep his own house in order, why shouldn’t we trade elsewhere?’ Rose stopped him and turned him round. ‘If that’s how your emperor carries on, then I’m glad he’s over the water from us. We’re just simple folk and all we want is to be left alone to fish and weave. If anyone tried to take our crops, well . . .’

‘You could not stop them, could you?’

‘I suppose not, but we’d appeal to the king and he’d be honour-bound to help us.’

‘What if it was the king?’

‘You know, you’re giving me a headache. Kings don’t behave like that. That’s not what they’re for. They’re supposed to protect the likes of us, not rob us blind.’ She kneaded her temples with her knuckles. ‘Do you understand now?’

‘No, not really.’ Solomon skulked off to the shore line and threw some pebbles into the slowly rising sea. ‘If this is the case, why is the High King laying siege to An Cobh? What has the King of Coirc done to deserve such a thing?’

‘Am I the king’s adviser that I would know?’ With that, she left him trying to bounce spinning stones across the wave-tops.

He had no copper for his cistern, and his design for a water-powered drop forge would have to wait. He did, however, have another plan. He threw the last of his stones and watched as it hopped once, twice, three times, then sank. He went back to the church tower.

‘Brendan macFinn? Where are you, boy?’

‘Here, master.’ Solomon could hear scrabbling above him as he entered. The sudden sounds of industry could not fool him.

‘I have an errand of the utmost importance.’ He climbed the stairs up to his room. When he got there, he found Brendan standing exactly in the middle of the room, his hands behind his back, and looking nowhere in particular.

Solomon’s gaze travelled slowly around. His copper still, taken from the poteen makers, hissed and bubbled gently. His writing set and book were tidily on the table. His light-cloth shone brightly enough, held on the wall in a wooden frame.

‘What have you been up to, boy?’ His voice was a low growl.

‘Nothing, master,’ said Brendan, too quickly.

‘Whatever it is will have to wait. You need to take a message for me to the High King, who is currently at the gates of An Cobh.’

The boy blinked in surprise. ‘But Master Solomon, I don’t know the way.’

‘Then you will have to find it. You are the only one I can trust with such an important task.’

‘Master, I’ve never left An Rinn. This place is all I know.’

Solomon brushed his excuses aside. ‘Then it is about time your horizons were broadened. Can you read?’

‘No, master.’

‘Good, for this message is for the High King only.’ He sat at the table and started to trim his quill. ‘Can the High King read?’

‘I don’t even know who the High King is. We heard last autumn that it was a man called Cormac, but the year before that it was someone different. Perhaps they take it in turns.’

Solomon dipped his quill in his inkpot – Father Padroig’s inkpot – and opened his book. He turned to the back and started to write, carefully and with the occasional crossing out and furrowed brow. ‘You will need, boy, food for the journey. The weather is fair but the night is cold, so take a blanket with you. I will seal this letter, and no man but the High King himself is to open it. If you are stopped by the High King’s men, you are to tell them that the emperor of Kenya sends his greetings to the High King of Aeire. His name is like coin in the hand, boy, so choose to spend it wisely.’

He took a knife and cut the page free, then held it up to the light. Satisfied that it was dry, he folded the sheet up so that no writing was exposed. Brendan was still standing there, hopping from one foot to the other, in a state of high agitation.

‘Master Solomon, please.’

‘In my country, apprentices who refuse to do their master’s bidding are beaten with sticks. Then they still have to do their duty. If you want to wait here while I get a stick, I will be glad to act as a master should.’ Solomon held out the letter. ‘Who do you give this to?’

Brendan’s shoulders sagged in defeat. ‘The High King.’

‘Where will you find him?’

‘An Cobh.’

‘No, outside An Cobh. He is laying siege to it. I expect that he will send men and horses back with you to find me, so you must guide them here. Do you understand what you must do?’