Nona sat on the bench outside the house she shared with Conaire, looking out over the misty fields. Hills brooded as dark shadows at the edge of the valley, mainly obscured by the falling rain and low-hanging clouds. The early morning sun was barely over the horizon and cast little light in the grey, misty sky. The damp leached into her bones, it seemed, and she pulled her cloak closer with a shiver. But no matter the chill, she cherished this moment alone, the first since she and Conaire had arrived at his holding three days ago. The first since she left Bebbanburg nearly two weeks ago.
Several families, all of whom belonged to the nGabrain, the ruling cenél, or clan, of Dál Riata, lived at the holding. As he was the head of the holding, Conaire lived on the crannog, the small island co
