Jonathan Sanders had slept beneath a tree wrapped in a thick blanket that night, pulling it tight against the howling wind and thanking God that the steady drizzle had not permeated it before the dawn. He had crossed the flat plains bordering the River Liffey the day before, coming to rest only after the darkness and rain had set in. He abided by his plan to travel during the day in plain sight lest he be caught unawares by armed units who might capture him as a spy.
As the sun peeked drearily through the dark clouds overhead, Jonathan continued his trek towards the river and eventually came across a fisherman sorting through his gear upon a small rowboat. They hailed each other and Jonathan trudged down a small incline over a growth of soggy weeds to meet him.
“How now, I"m Jonathan San
