Ceara hastened down the stairs and past the great hall. The sentry on the door was inattentive, for he had savored his ale. She told him that she needed to pray and he nodded cheerful agreement, waving her onward.
Loch Moidart wrapped around the north side of the keep, an inlet that opened to the sea at the west. The wind was chilly from the water, but she ran along the empty walls. The door to the chapel was doughty. Ceara opened it with an effort and heard it shut audibly behind herself. There was a light burning upon the altar table, which was graced with a plain linen cloth, a cup and a plate. The cross hanging on the far wall was lit by the flickering golden light, and Ceara shivered at the dampness of the stone. Though it should have been warmer to step out of the wind, the chapel p
