"My Lord, welcome to Aird Driseig. I am Colmgil mac Iain, the Steward of this place. Your progress has been made known to us so we have prepared food,...drink and suitable accommodation for you. I hope all is in order?" Well met Colmgil. I see the stewardship looks to be in well-organised hands. My thanks, some food would be most welcome."We dismounted and followed Colmgil into the hall-house. There were numerous wooden tables, mostly already occupied by tartan clad men who were drinking what. She left town, leaving no notes and all her memories and hurt behind her. When the train arrived, she had no idea where she was or what she was doing. She only knew that she had to run from her past. Outside it was pouring, so that she felt numb both inside and outside. She struggled in the rain with her bags until she came upon a church. She banged on the gates, but no one came and finally she sank down to the ground, shivering miserably but exhausted enough that she fell asleep. Later. More

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