I got out of the tent and walked to the wood. There was a little stream and like a true warrior on the Quest of Great Celtic Mystery, I washed my face in it. Looking up, water blurring my vision, I was surprised to see a lone tombstone. I walked nearer. The tomb was green and black with moulds and growths.
The tower of the ruin cast its shadow over us. By ‘us’, I mean me and whoever was sleeping in that tomb. It was an impressive stone. I began to suspect that it might be the last resting place of a mighty king. Who else would be given their own tombstone in a lonely wood within the shadows of a great tower?