Prologue
Ironcross Castle, the Northern Highlands
May 1527
As the full moon began to rise from behind the distant brae, the shadows stretched up like gnarled, grasping fingers on the pale walls of the castle.
The shadow makers, on a nearer hill, began to descend from the summit, forming a line and moving toward the fortress. The sound of low chanting that had come in whispers on the ragged breeze died as the last of the dark figures disappeared amid the tumbled piles of slab-like rock in the gorge beneath the castle walls. At the bottom of the gorge, the waters of the loch shimmered in the moonlight.
Moments later, far beneath the castle’s massive walls, a heavy iron lock clicked, and a squat, thick, oaken door swung open.
In through the entryway the cloaked figures filed, silent as
