They stood on the crest of Dava Moor, looking northward to the great, fertile plain of Fidach, with the sea a brilliant blue in the far distance and the land a mixture of fields and lochs. Melcorka narrowed her eyes as she tried to focus on the brightly-coloured shapes she could see far in the distance, beyond the edge of the moor and on the farther side of a river.
"What is that?"
"That is the gateway to Fidach," Bradan said. "You will see it better when we get there." He tapped his staff on the ground. "And once you have seen it, you will know what a strange people the Picts are."
The deer had been with them for some time, picking their way across the moor as they searched for food in an environment not perfect for their kind.
"It is unusual to see deer among moorland," Bradan said.
