what was supposed to happen; how I was supposed to meet the druids when they were put ashore and take them north but now it seems that their ship has been burned and sunk (whether by random pirates or by the Romans and their servants is unclear). I also speculate more than I possibly should over why they had been ordered back north and talk more than I should about the problems on the Council.

“Which is another reason I’d like to go to Mon with you.” I finish. “I badly want to talk to some senior druids who aren’t Govan based in the hope that they may have some wisdom to offer on what is happening and how the divisions might be resolved. I know it isn’t my place to meddle in druid affairs but things are going from bad to worse and someone has to do something. At worst I’ll just end up in exile like you two.” I force a rather grim smile- the worst that could happen is a great deal nastier, involving fire and Wicker Men and the like.

Vaugn offers Brann and Flid a lift on his cart. This seems an excellent idea, at least to get them started on the road. I shall have to ride back to the village, pick up the belongings I left there and send a message north. Half a dozen oghams on a wax tablet (one Roman invention I thoroughly approve of) should convey the gist of what has happened and what I fear. The village head’s son will be only too proud to run an errand for the Sickle and take the tablet to safe hands- if any hands are safe these days. Then I can turn Lugh south again and ride off to join the party with the cart. At some point Brann and Flid will need horses of their own and I’m not sure whether they can safely appear in a market to buy them- it sounds as if there may be people in Brigantia who are not just content with driving them out of the clan.