“Black Duncan has gone too?” Melcorka felt her despondency increase. “He was one of the best. I don't think that anybody can defeat Erik and Legbiter.”
“There is always hope,” True Thomas said. “What have you learned in Elfhame?”
Bradan told him of Maelona's ideas of the forbidden entity from a far-distant past and repeated the riddle. “One within three beside the mirror of the moon, with the wisdom of the old drawing from sacred blood.”
“The mirror of the moon,” True Thomas said. “That should be simple to explain, if not to find. Where can you find a mirror that shows the moon?”
Bradan grunted. “Any pond, loch or pool will reflect the moon.”
“Exactly so,” True Thomas said. “You are looking for a body of still water.”
Bradan looked away. “Yes, seer; in Alba, we must have ten thousand bodies of still water.”
“Now look at the second section of the riddle.” Thomas ignored Bradan's irritation. “One within three. Does that mean anything to you?”
“It means nothing to me,” Bradan said.
“The “one” must be significant.” Melcorka tried to cudgel life into her brain. “What is a one that might matter? What is a one that can stand out within a three?”
“Something that dominates its surroundings, or something of historical importance,” Bradan said.
“I would agree,” Thomas said. “What single thing could dominate its surroundings while being within a three?”
“A building, perhaps?” Melcorka hazarded. “A castle? Or a mountain? Schiehallion, the sacred mountain? That stands out.”
“It does,” Bradan agreed, “but where does the mirror of the moon come in, or the three?”
“Something that stands tall beside a loch or pond,” Melcorka said.
“The wisdom of the old must also be represented,” Thomas added, grave-faced. “This is a complex riddle indeed.”
“Indeed,” Bradan began to tap his staff on the ground. “One within a three. I cannot fathom that, but the second part of the riddle is about the wisdom of the old. Maelona mentioned that some of the old families still possessed a family Druid. The Druids maintain the wisdom of the old.”
They do,” True Thomas said. “Where do these old families dwell?”
“North of the Forth,” Bradan said at once, “and in the areas where the influence of the Norse is weakest.”
Melcorka nodded. “That means the north and east of the country.”
“We are narrowing the area down,” Bradan said. “Which type of families would have these Druids?”
“The old Pictish families,” Melcorka said, without the shadow of a smile. “Those furthest from the Celtic church.”
“Away from the Norse, far from the Church,” Bradan said. “I would say we are looking at an area inland, and we think in the northeast.”
“You have wandered there, Bradan,” Melcorka said. “Which old families would have a pool or a pond? Perhaps a sacred loch?”
Bradan shook his head. “There are hundreds of sacred places, hills, lochs, rivers, and standing stones in that area.” He looked at Melcorka in sudden enlightenment. “And stone circles.”
“Stone circles?” Melcorka asked. “Is there one beside a loch?”
“Yes,” Bradan said. “I know of one in the Moor of Grainish.” Standing to clear his mind, he tapped his staff on the ground. “I think I know where this place might be, Mel. I know of a triple stone circle, three concentric rings of stones, with a taller stone in the centre.”
“One within a three,” Melcorka spoke with no animation. “Is there a loch nearby?”
“There is a lochan if I remember,” Bradan said, “a small pool of dark water. I do not know if it is sacred or not.”
“It will be sacred at such a location,” Melcorka said. “The Moor of Grainish is in Fidach is it not? The old Pictish province that we once knew well.”
“The Moor of Grainish straddles the border between Fidach and Alba,” Bradan said. “We passed it on our way to Fidach, years ago.”
“I remember,” Melcorka said. “We met no Druids.”
“They must gather at certain times – the old holy times, perhaps.”
“Beltane.” Melcorka said flatly. “If the Druids gather there, it will be when they light the holy fires at Beltane,” Melcorka said. “Beltane is the beginning of summer.”
“What date is it today?” Bradan asked.
True Thomas had been listening. “You have two weeks,” he said. “And 200 miles of difficult terrain to cover.”
Bradan tapped his staff on the ground. “We had better start,” he said. “Thank you for your help, Thomas.”
But True Thomas had vanished. The elderly shepherd grinned at him, gap-toothed and without understanding.
“I wish that man would stay for a full conversation,” Bradan said.
“Yes.” Melcorka had already lost interest. She stared at a sheep as if she had never seen such an animal before.
“Come on, Mel,” Bradan said. “We have a long way to travel.”
* * *
“I still don”t feel myself,” Melcorka said as she leaned against the carcass of a hollowed-out tree.
“You are not yourself,” Bradan said. “I can feel the weakness in you.”
“I thought the People of Peace had cured me.”
“They cured the physical wound,” Bradan reminded her gently. “There are other things that they could not cure. That is one reason why we are still looking for help.”
Melcorka forced a smile. “I don't like this feeling. It is as if someone is inside me, tearing at me as he tries to get out.”
“We'll get you better, Mel.” Bradan put a supporting arm around her. “I wish that True Thomas would turn up again. Like all these seers and foretellers, he talks in riddles and leaves us to grope for the solution.”
“Yes.” Melcorka”s attention had drifted away again. She hitched up her sword, frowning. “Do I have to carry this thing?”
“You'll need it later.” Again, Bradan concealed his concern.
“Oh.” Melcorka shook her head. “Yes, of course.”
“Somebody's following us,” Bradan said. “Don't look behind you.”
“I didn't hear anything.” Melcorka would have turned
