Frannie stared out the window at the Irish landscape. The rolling green hills were a delight after the dreariness of the small town of Stradbally. Granted, it was a dull and dreary day, so perhaps she shouldn't judge the town or its people on her first impression. The clouds thickened, blotting out the sun, and the fog rolled across the road - what was that poem? Something about like on cat's paws?

Ah, but this fog was nothing like that. This fog was creeping in like a stalking panther, silent, swift and seductive.

Thomas suddenly spun the wheel to the left and they bounced into the public entrance. They had talked about coming to the Electric Picnic for years, but this was nothing like she had imagined. In her mind, she thought they would be dodging party-goers, happy and drunk. Instead, they were dodging deep ruts. Straggly tree branches reached out for them and clawed at the Mini Cooper, trying to slow its progress. In spite of the Irish land's best efforts, Thomas maneuvered the little car around holes, over rocks and onward towards the Hall.

After what seemed like an eternity, the forest released them and there, in the middle of an emerald green clearing, was Stradbally. It rose up from the grass like a hulking castle, cold and distant, yet elegant and refined. Strength seemed to be the most fitting description of the place. It seemed to imply great strength.

Thomas waved a hand towards the great sweep of green grass and said doubtfully, "Perhaps we entered in the wrong place. There's clearly no rock concerts going on here."

Frannie shrugged, then cranked her window down. "I don't hear anything either."

"Should we just go knock on the front door?"

Her shoulders rose again. "I guess so. I didn't fly all the way to Ireland for nothing. It's a huge event, so I'm sure there's someone here who can give us directions."

The sound of hoofbeats caught their attention before Thomas could put the car in gear. A horse and rider appeared from a break in the woods and galloped towards the front door of the castle. The rider tugged the reins and pulled the horse to a sliding stop, just on the other side of the fountain. Thomas leaned to the right and Frannie leaned to her left, both trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious horseman. He landed on the ground lightly, his knees bending to take the impact, then he dropped the reins, shouted at someone, and took the steps two at a time. The great wooden door swung open just as he reached the top. He disappeared into the darkness of the Hall and the door swung shut.

Frannie thought she heard the creak of the door. Then again, perhaps she just expected it to creak.

Thomas turned to look at Frannie and said, "Did you see that? That man was wearing a suit of armor."

Frannie pointed at the horse standing at the fountain. "And so is his horse."