Chapter ThirteenDawn brought streaks of red and silver that graced a sky of grey, while white clouds hovered above the blue peaks of the Cairngorm Mountains. Skein after skein of geese passed them, flying northward to the sea and the lands that lay beyond, as if anxious to escape from the troubled realm of Alba.
“There is the Moor of Grainish.” Bradan rested on his staff, looking to the expanse of rough heather-moor that stretched to a low granite ridge in the hazed distance.
Still favouring her injured legs, Melcorka nodded. They stood side by side as the sun rose higher, with the silver rays highlighting the white stones that protruded from the body of the moor, and reflecting from the lochans and burns that dissected the heather. “Where is your triple stone circle?”
“In the very cent
