It happened to be a clear, calm day with barely a ripple on the surface of the loch.“What do you say?” he said. “A wee trip down the loch, then a few beers in the Dunvegan later? That is if you don’t mind me kipping on your couch again?”“Just as long as you still respect me in the morning,” I said.Truthfully, I was happy for the company. I’d spent most of the week trying to solve the riddle of the pictograms until it felt like I was bashing my head against a brick wall. A trip on the water and a few—maybe more than a few—beers sounded like perfect medicine to me.Alan was also more voluble than the regulars in the Dunvegan Arms. On our trip down the loch he kept me entertained with a potted history of the MacLeod clan and the old castle. I didn’t even have to mention the famous fairy flag—he gave me chapter and verse on all the various myths and legends—of which there are many. I couldn’t see any correlation with my own circumstances, until a single sentence knocked me for a loop.“The flag used to be covered in writing, or so they say,”
