An excerpt from Hand Of Belenos

Hours south, a different world was presenting itself to a new visitor.

Duncan peered out the car window. 

The caretaker of the Cemetery sent a car to pick him up. The other transport arrangements had already been made.

Duncan said he would get a rental and drive, but the caretaker insisted. “Better to relax after such a long trip,” the caretaker said.

"I’ll be prepared to receive you at 3pm. My man can give you a bit of history on the waay here. ‘Tis a wee bit from Edinburg and there is much to see and learn.”

So, after exchanging arrival times and the particulars for McKenna’s final cortege, they hung up the phone. 

Heritage had rules yet unknown to Duncan.

He would ride in a separate vehicle. 

McKenna would take the final coffin road alone.

It’ll be a long flight. He is probably right. Maybe I’ll nap on the way.

They drove away from the airport, and headed out.

Rolling hills and lush pastures zoomed past the windows. Mountains could be seen in the distance, their dark grey contrasted against the cloudy light grey sky.

Everything was a shade of grey. Everything.

“ ‘Til clear uup a bit faarther north,” the caretaker’s man said.

“What do I call you?” Duncan's curiosity finally got to him.

“Boyd.” he answered back with a very matter of fact tone.

“The Crieff caretaker told me you were a maan of import, so, you’ll forgive me if I call you Sir. Allow me thaat?”

The road was long and winding. Every once in a while, you’d spy a village in the offing. Or at least a steeple would indicate there might be a village there.

After almost an hour of silence, Boyd finally spoke.

“We are coming uup to what, in the paast, be known as Lochlane.”

Duncan viewed the mountains in front of them, getting closer. To the left, grasslands as far as he surveyed and hills in the distance.

“This ‘ere on the right, is the River Earn. Lifeblood of this whole area.”

“That 'amlet off in the distance? That is Crieff. Used to be all called Lochlane, but o’er the years, things ‘ave a way of changing, eh Lad?”

“That they do.”

They sure do. 

Change was Duncan’s home address.

He caught a glimpse of his face in the rear view mirror. His hair was longer and his face spoke of a missing razor. 

The vehicle slowed.

“See, I told you. Clear up up nort’ “ The sun was poking through the clouds.

The car stopped, the driver turned around to look at Duncan.

“Dunna you worry, we git you a proper shower when we arrive at the village.”

Boyd pulled off into a lot, next to a building.

Boyd pointed to the left. “Crieff Visitor Center. Best plaace to find loocal facts, trinkets, history and get a laay of the land  ‘ere.”

He got out of the car, came back and opened the door for Duncan. 

He stepped out and stretched his legs. He didn’t realize he had been sitting for so long.

“We’s still got a little to goo, but good to stretch now and not fall flat on yer faace in frunt of everybody. No sir, not good t’all.”

Duncan surveyed his surroundings. 

He had memories of this place.

Were they real or ones he dreamt about?