For two summers have I been called Cèudach Mór, Scathach's consort in Dúnscaith. For two bloody summers I have contended with the sinister Aoife, pirates from Thule, and a sorority of murderous women who are as eager to slay you as they are to sleep with you.

For two summers we have recruited countless young students who have mastered the Cleas and have been sent, by the fleet, back to Inver Colpa to be of aid in the effort to rid the Kingdom of Midhe of her outlaws. It has grieved me to be away as long as I have, but I have known always that the greatest relief I can offer the crippled village of my mother's birth is to continue to train new warriors.

I arrive at the harbour of Inver Colpa with the rain off the sea. Little has gone into the repair of the village upon the Boinne since I left. The quay is derelict and quiet save for the creaking timbers of the wharf. I tip the curragh onto its side and pull it ashore so that it doesn't fill with rainfall.

My heart quickens and my throat burns. It is entirely possible that I have just entered a ghost town. Have our Sgàith warriors been no help at all? I head first for An Cailleach na Muir. If there is any cheer to be found in Inver Colpa, it is always there. Equipped with nothing but my sgian dubh, cruit, and a purseful of silver and gold, I step out of the pouring rain and into the warm hostel where I am glad to see Creidne keeping house. "Beag ach laidir!" I cry upon entering.

My warcry is punctuated by a sword to my throat. It is held by a rugged-looking soldier with red eyes. "Enna?" I croak, barely recognising him. Since when had the watchman ever been so edgy? A lot has happened in two years it seems. Or...perhaps...not enough. Enna withdraws his sword quickly when my face reaches a familiar place in his mind.

"Amlaidh," he says softly. He looks like he hasn't slept in ages. "Forgive me. But I certainly never expected to see you again."

Scanning the tavern I see few faces that I knew when I lived here. There is no music, no mirth. The sparsely populated room is comprised largely of sodden grey-beards who had once been great patriarchs and cattle lords. Where are Fenian and MacMorna? Where are Nevvyn and Flidais? Where is the lovely Moss and the spirited Cormar? "Enna...where is everyone?"