Read Follow the Vision, Part One here. INNISKEEL MONASTERY, 598 AD Dusk curtains the monastery as Feidhelm traces a finger beneath Aibreann’s closed eyes, along her cheekbone and across the dimple of her chin. She is still warm, clinging to the last fragment of life that struggles within her.
DRUIM CETT, 575 AD “King Hugh, listen to me, I beg of you. To abolish the fild will be to abolish the very foundation of Ireland. Our identity as a nation owes itself to this order; the filid are the keepers of our history, the ones who preserve our culture.
Read The Unholy Cross, Part One here. TRIAL Pilate sits on an adorned chair, the pride of a Roman etched in his every feature. But in his eyes, there is a veiled glint of kindness, the glitter of hope that perhaps he will judge not as a Roman, but as a man.
HIDDEN Katriel kneels where the blood pools from his brother’s ribs. The knife, now stained crimson with his crime, seems to gather the moonlight and reflect it out, exposing him. He slips it beneath the fold of his cloak and with one last dismissive glance toward the pale face, turns away. Must leave now. Danger.
It’s a quirky thing about people that when they know your name, they think they know you. Mrs. Biggs, for example. Every church has a Mrs. Biggs, middle-aged, nosy as all get out and entirely without shame. You know her; we all do.
He sold the house with the spare room to a woman who painted it yellow. Not the bright, cheerful yellow of sunflower petals, but the faded yellow edges of my father’s Bible which sat for forty years unopened on the mantel.