Prologue
The Northern Coast of Scotland, 1494
The ship was nearly gone. All that was left clung to the sharp rocks of the reef. The timbers glistened in the sun like the ribs of a carcass picked clean.
Cairns stared at the low waves breaking on the stony shore. Around him masts, lines, and sails lay tangled up with casks and boxes and cargo.
And bodies. So many bodies.
He focused on the remains of the vessel that had broken apart in an instant. On a clear day in a steady breeze.
Perhaps his friends had not drowned. Perhaps they died when the ship came apart like dry kindling. The vessel had splintered into four segments with a sound so terrible that his ears still roared at the memory.
Wet and cold and exhausted, Cairns pulled out the leather pouch that hung around his neck. From it
