The Plain Facts, Carved
What It Is
Told in the Seanchaí Tradition
The Build Story
The druids of old counted by rods and kept their arithmetic strictly to themselves — the cutting of the seasons, the reckonings of the sun, all locked behind the oak doors, and a man was fished out of the order for less than a spilled sum. The garden's own elders never held with that: figures want witnesses. So these calculators were set out on the wall in plain script, each one showing its working to any traveler who stops — the rods counting themselves aloud in the open air. They are elder stones now, cut in the younger days of the craft, their edges worn round and soft with moss the way athresholdstone wears underfoot; but press any of them and the figures still move, still add, still answer — the arithmetic of 2019 still holding its roof five winters on.