I'm doubly delighted because this is a story about the Gododdin, the old people who lived in Sliabh Mannan before me.
It's called The Wild Hunt of Sliabh Mannan and is about 3400 words.
I'm pretty sure I made it up, but the events have now melded so inextricably with the surrounding landscape that I cannot help thinking Yes, this is where that happened.
Of course when our characters tell us a story about the past it does tend to become historical truth as far as we, as writers, are concerned. I sometimes can't understand how no-one else seems to know about it until I tell them how it happened.
