"There are others," Christine held her candle high, revealing more skulls set in niches on the face of the cave and on columns of rock. They returned our stares through empty eye sockets, skull after skull that decorated the walls of the entire cavern.
"How many are there?" Christine stepped closer to me. I could feel the warmth of her body.
"Hundreds," I said. I do not know where I got that information. "A skull for each sacrifice and a sacrifice to the water each year."
"What is this place?" Lorna chose to ignore my speculations.
"It is a temple, a holy place to store the venerated dead." I could feel the sanctity, like the holy island of Iona or the ruins of the Border Abbeys. "You"ll have seen much worse in the war."
"Much," Lorna said. "These poor people are beyond suffering now.
