By Paul Finch
Craeghatir: a lonely rock, a ways out at the northernmost tip of england; the nearest aspect of land to it, the wild, storm-ravaged Cape Wrath. to name this position bleak is the understatement of an entire life. large cliffs dominate its shorelines, yet inside of there are eco-friendly tracks linking mystery valleys the place tumuli are available, historical megaliths and the bones of prehistoric mammals lengthy grown over with moss. The island is now uninhabited and when it comes to this good looks and silence, it's a superb locale - even though few sightseers ever enterprise there willingly, for Craeghatir has an evil attractiveness. Professor Jo Mercy of Warwick University's elite archaeological unit doesn't think the rumours and is raring to enquire a newly-discovered barrow at the island which would include the continues to be of Ivar Ragnarsson, maybe the main notorious of all Viking chieftains. Ragnarrson was once reputed to be berserkir - a warrior possessed with the wolf-spirit, whose insanity carried him previous all ache and cause within the warmth of conflict, and whose sufferers have been deemed choices to the wolf-god Fenrir. yet Mercy and her group will locate themselves confronted with greater than simply the inhospitibal setting on Craeghatir, because the spirit of Ragnarrson is disturbed and loss of life and insanity come to the island.
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Extra info for Cape Wrath
Black-tipped races," Richard said. Jennsen mulled over the unfamiliar name. " As Richard watched the races, he idly gathered small pebbles from the crumbling jut of rock beside him, rattling them in a loose fist. "I'd never seen them before, either, until I came down here. People we've spoken with say they began appearing only in the last year or two, depending on who's telling the story. " Jennsen wondered aloud. Almost against her will, Kahlan found herself recalling the stories they'd heard, the rumors, the whispered assertions.
Jennsen asked, earnestly, as if his pronouncement might settle once and for all the old superstition. Richard's smile widened into a grin. " Cara folded her arms. " Richard's arm gently encircled Kahlan's waist. She smiled with him as she leaned against his embrace in answer to the wordless gesture. That journey had eventually brought them to be husband and wife seemed more astonishing than anything she would ever have dared dream. Women like her—Confessors—dared not dream of love. Because of Richard, she had dared and had gained it.
Vultures can tell you, from a great distance, where a kill lies—by the way they circle and gather, I mean. " Kahlan didn't say anything. Her head ached, she was hungry, and she just wanted to go to sleep, not to discuss things she couldn't answer. She wondered how many times Richard had viewed her own insistent questions in the same way she now viewed Jennsen's. Kahlan silently vowed to try to be at least half as patient as Richard always was. "The thing is," Jennsen went on, matter-of-factly, "how would someone get birds to ...