Chapter Three
Mor woke with pains in his head the morning after the feast to welcome Ciaran and Fergal home. He was glad the two men were home and safe, but he didn’t really understand why they’d been away. He’d drank some Meade last night — something he hadn’t tried before — and was now feeling the worse for it.
He sat up in his hut and splashed cold water on his face, feeling he was both hot and dried out. It was not a feeling he was familiar with, and he thought he might be gravely ill. Images of the previous night came back to him as he drank some of the stale water. He recalled Beathan handing him a cup to drink from, a mischievous grin on his face. He’d also tried to talk to Fergal at one point but seemed to only succeed in driving the man away. Why couldn’t he remember any of the
