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girth ended at hairy knees; leather boots sheathed his feet and calves.
    He stared at us through drooping eyelids as if with little interest. Finally, he acknowledged our presence. “So, Tóla, you bring news of the darkness?”
    “Yes, Your Highness, that and a message from King Illan mac Dúnlainge of Leinster.” Master Tóla removed a scroll from the loose-fitting sleeve of his robe and offered it to the King.
    King Máelgarb leaned forward, took it from the Master’s hand and passed it to the ancient Druid. He was not finished with the Master. “Tell me for truth, Tóla. Is it true King mac Dúnlainge has already sealed his borders?”
    “I do not think so, Your Highness, for we met no guards along the trail on our travel here. With your permission, allow me to introduce Ciann Mehigan of Rath Raithleann, Druid to King Domnhall. Perhaps he can speak to your question.”
    The King’s eyes turned to my father. “And so, Druid, I have heard your name though we have not met. What say you? Were you detained upon entering Leinster?”
    My father bowed. “No, Your Highness. We encountered no men of Leinster on our journey to Dún Ailinne.”
    “The rumor is not true then.” The King clapped his hands and smirked. “Of course…hah, I knew it for a dirty lie when first I heard it. King mac Dúnlainge is not a man who panics because of a little darkness.”
    King Máelgarb squirmed and settled back in his chair as his eyes swept us. “However, unrest already stirs among all the tribes. Without the sun crops will fail, people will face starvation and the resulting turmoil will inevitably spark war! A war over food! A war for survival! I look to you to put an end to the darkness before such terrible things occur.” He turned and nodded to the Druid beside him.
    The old man stepped forward. “The synod will not take place here, but upon the ancient sacred heights of Tlachtga, a short ride away. Go there, for preparations have already been made for your arrival. Two days hence we shall join together to offer prayers during a Great Fire Festival dedicated to Belenos and thereby assure that the power behind this darkness shall be overcome.”
    * * *
    “Why was the Christian priest standing at the side of King Máelgarb?”
    My father sat cross-legged on the ground beside me atop the hill named Tlachtga. Above us stretched a small, striped canopy. Nearby, other groups camped, while about us torches held back the darkness.
    He waved his hands and wrinkled his nose. “Augh! Who is cooking that vile-smelling meal? By the priest you mean the bishop?”
    At my nod, he continued. “The King sent us a message by the bishop’s presence. He intended that we know his power extends beyond our faith and now encompasses that of the Christians as well.”
    “It’s little I know of the Christians though I have a learned a bit about them in my religious studies.”
    My father glanced around, leaned closer to me and spoke quietly. “I do not want this overheard. Even Master Tóla has friends among the Christian priests. Kindly man that he is, he disagrees with my intolerance of them. You must always remember Christians arrived in Eire for the sole purpose of capturing the minds of all our people.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Their priests are like lepers and spoil all they touch.”
    This was a side of my father I had not seen before, and his words washed over me like a cold rain. “Christians have been here but a short time. How is it they have gained such influence with the King?”
    “Their priests speak loud and well. They gather about them the disgruntled, the disenfranchised, those who stand to gain the most by radical change. Regrettably, there are many such and the Christians have gained a large following. Most importantly, the Christians speak with the power of Rome at their backs. The King would be foolish to ignore them.”
    Despite eight years of confinement within an atmosphere solely dedicated to learning it came