Through a storm 

As I trudged wearily away from my castle prison through the pouring rain, I reflected on the strange workings of fate.
Here I was, cold and wet, and there they were, my imprisoners, running off to fight a battle they would certainly lose.
Of course, if I didn`t find some food and shelter soon, I was not going to be going any further myself. After two weeks in a cold, wet dungeon with hardly any food the chances of reaching safety before I was turned into wolf or bear breakfast.
I was trying as hard as I could to remember the key to moving on. It didn`t matter where as far as I was concerned.
What I wanted to do was run.This would keep me warm and bring me nearer to somewhere.  In that part of the world, there can be more than a day`s travel between Somewheres.

As fate decided, I stopped to get a stone out of my shoe when I saw someone striding towards me.
 "Good Heavens, dear boy! What on Earth are you doing?"
He was dressed in a bright red mantle,with a hood and black leggings.  It was quite hard to understand his accent, but his eyes widened as I gave my explanation.
 "Look," he said, "This is all very fascinating. I could listen all day. Thing is, it`s definitely breakfast time and you look done in. I`ve taken a little croft just over there. Would you like to join me?"
I joined him to the extent of demolishing a huge breakfast of porridge and kippers, toast and marmalade until I nearly burst.  


This was a modern house. I must have slipshifted without realizing it while I was trying to wok out my codes, going through all the possibilities.  There was heating of some kind,soft armchairs, a hot bath and a spare bed.   Ranald was a writer, working on a very different area of Scottish history. Luckily, he knew about Druids and was not in the least shocked by what I was saying. It did not cross his mind to have me Sectioned as a dangerous lunatic.


  When I finally woke up it was dark. The rain was still lashing down against the windows.
  A pot of venison stew was bubbling on the stove. A bottle of French wine was taking the air close by.
  As we finished off the wine, we continued our discussions.
  "Listen," he said, "Is there any way that you could take me with you? On your travels." 
I had no idea what to say.  At the back of my I had a vague memory of being warned not to reveal my codes and he saw  the doubts on my face. Two thousand years before. 
  "This is difficult for you," Ranald said, "I see that. I don`t want to put undue pressure on you. Not at all. Why not sleep on it?  See if anything turns up. If it doesn`t, it doesn`t. Is that fair?"
  So I lay down and slept deeply.