Callum opened his eyes to see an old woman sitting beside a peat fire and knitting. Wiry gray curls sprang from her cap, framing her plump face.
“Thou art awake!” The old woman came over and felt his forehead. “I’m fair blide to see thee feeling better.” She studied him with kind eyes, and then rose abruptly. “Here’s some soup for thee. A rookle o’ bones thou wert when we found thee.”
Callum looked at her, puzzled, as she brought him a bowl of soup.
“Beuy? Dost thou ken where thou art?”
He looked away as he tried to remember. “The ship sank… ”
“Aye, the finfolk nearly got thee.” Seeing Callum’s questioning look, she said, “The finfolk rise from the depths of the sea and take men to serve as their slaves.”
Callum gave little heed to her story. He could think only of how his head hurt,
