The S they could make out - Conall could see it too - was almost eerie, if it were more than coincidence. Like someone was watching them, had eyes from above, was orchestrating all this, controlling fire and rain and fog. But who could do such a thing as this?

Not nature alone, that was obvious.

Keen to be on the move again - he would not have been able to crowd under this porch all night long with the whole group of men without wanting to stab himself in the face, he presumed - Conall just agreed with a brisk nod, offered the one he thought was Ainsworth a split-second of eye contact, and then started off in one direction past the S in the ground.

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