"they talked of the perilous journey they had undertaken, past the swilling whirlpool near the Katness shore, then the ripping tides of the Pictland Firth, then the journey past the symbol of the isles, the huge towering rock needle of the old man who gazed out to sea. They relayed greetings from Brude, the King of Lesser Pictland. They were offered food and drink. As they sat consuming this, their leader spoke of an alliance of all the Pictish tribes south and north of the wall; of war with the Angles. The lead envoy, a young warrior called Arthur, spoke boldly. He wished tribute of many warriors from Orkney. He is handsome and virile. His dark eyes are luminous. A born leader, already he has commanded men. Although he wears a Roman tunic under his Pictish cloak, he is not of the Romans.

Like many up till now he has done their bidding. Now they are leaving.

Morgana knows that in the long run the tides of fate are against Arthur but that they will turn again for Britain in the far future.

Morgana, using her potions in his wine, worked her whiles on the envoy. His men are weary and beds are offered within the broch. Drawn to his strength, she offers her bed to Arthur, entrancing him, and that night sleeps with him to distract him from his goal,"