It's the strangest thing about Ireland; for a small island there's more variety than you'd ever guess at from the outside. I'm used to the wide open spaces back home. In America, when we talk about heading "up north," we're talking about crossing state lines maybe, maybe heading up to Canada even. The whole trip from Dublin to Belfast took less than two hours but we might as well have been going to another planet. We had ridden up to Belfast in force. Dublin would just have to do without the Druids Motorcycle Club for a few weeks. Until this job was done, Ronan had told everyone, all business in Dublin is on hold. I had considered staying in Dublin while he was away but I thought better of it. He might be gone a long time, even if the distance wasn't so great. Furthermore, the war he was set to fight on his father's behalf came with no guarantee of safety. If something happened, I needed to be there. Plus, I'd barely been outside of Dublin since coming to the Emerald Isle.
