ALSOBYKAZUOISHIGURO

Nocturnes

NeverLetMeGo

WhenWeWereOrphans

TheUnconsoled

TheRemainsoftheDay

AnArtistoftheFloatingWorld

APaleViewofHills

THISISABORZOIBOOK

PUBLISHEDBYALFREDA.KNOPF

Copyright©2015byKazuoIshiguro

Allrightsreserved.PublishedintheUnitedStatesbyAlfredA.Knopf,adivisionofRandomHouseLLC,NewYork,aPenguinRandomHousecompany.Published

simultaneouslyinGreatBritainbyFaberandFaberLtd.,London.

www.aaknopf.com

Knopf,BorzoiBooks,andthecolophonareregisteredtrademarksofRandomHouseLLC.

LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationData

Ishiguro,Kazuo,[date]

Theburiedgiant:anovel/KazuoIshiguro.—Firstedition.

pages;cm

ISBN978-0-307-27103-7(hardcover)ISBN978-0-385-35322-9(eBook)

I.Title

PR6059.85B872015

8232.914—dc232014028378

Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseitheraretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.

JacketdesignbyPeterMendelsund

v3.1

DeborahRogers

1938–2014

Contents

Cover

OtherBooksbyThisAuthor

TitlePage

Copyright

Dedication

PartIChapterOne

ChapterTwo

ChapterThree

ChapterFour

ChapterFive

PartIIChapterSix

ChapterSeven

ChapterEight

PartIIIGawain’sFirstReverie

ChapterTen

ChapterEleven

ChapterTwelve

ChapterThirteen

Gawain’sSecondReverie

PartIVChapterFifteen

ChapterSixteen

ChapterSeventeen

ANoteAbouttheAuthor

PartI

ChapterOne

Youwouldhavesearchedalongtimeforthesortofwindinglaneortranquilmeadow forwhich England later became celebrated. Therewere instead miles of desolate, uncultivated land; here and thererough-hewn paths over craggy hills or bleakmoorland.Most of theroads left by the Romans would by then have become broken orovergrown,oftenfadingintowilderness.Icyfogshungoverriversandmarshes, servingall toowell theogres thatwere then stillnative tothis land. The people who lived nearby—one wonders whatdesperationledthemtosettleinsuchgloomyspots—mightwellhavefeared these creatures, whose panting breaths could be heard longbefore their deformed figures emerged from the mist. But suchmonsterswere not cause for astonishment. People thenwould haveregarded themas everydayhazards, and in thosedays therewas somuchelse toworryabout.How toget foodoutof thehardground;hownot torunoutof firewood;howtostop thesickness thatcouldkill a dozen pigs in a single day and produce green rashes on thecheeksofchildren.

In any case, ogreswerenot sobadprovidedonedidnotprovokethem.Onehadtoacceptthateverysooften,perhapsfollowingsomeobscuredisputeintheirranks,acreaturewouldcomeblunderingintoa village in a terrible rage, and despite shouts and brandishings ofweapons, rampage about injuring anyone slow to move out of itspath.Orthateverysooften,anogremightcarryoffachildintothemist. The people of the day had to be philosophical about suchoutrages.

Inonesuchareaontheedgeofavastbog,intheshadowofsomejaggedhills, livedanelderlycouple,AxlandBeatrice.Perhapsthesewerenot theirexactor fullnames,but forease, this ishowwewillrefer to them. I would say this couple lived an isolated life, but inthosedaysfewwere“isolated”inanysensewewouldunderstand.Forwarmthandprotection, thevillagers livedinshelters,manyof themdug deep into the hillside, connecting one to the other byundergroundpassagesandcoveredcorridors.Ourelderlycouplelivedwithinonesuchsprawlingwarren—“building”wouldbetoogranda

word—with roughly sixty other villagers. If you came out of theirwarren and walked for twenty minutes around the hill, you wouldhave reached the next settlement, and to your eyes, this onewouldhaveseemedidenticaltothefirst.Buttotheinhabitantsthemselves,there would have been many distinguishing details of which theywouldhavebeenproudorashamed.

IhavenowishtogivetheimpressionthatthiswasalltherewastotheBritainofthosedays;thatatatimewhenmagnificentcivilisationsflourishedelsewhereintheworld,wewereherenotmuchbeyondtheIron Age. Had you been able to roam the countryside at will, youmight well have discovered castles containing music, fine food,athletic excellence; or monasteries with inhabitants steeped inlearning.Butthereisnogettingaroundit.Evenonastronghorse,ingoodweather, you couldhave ridden for dayswithout spotting anycastle ormonastery looming out of the greenery.Mostly youwouldhavefoundcommunitiesliketheoneIhavejustdescribed,andunlessyouhadwithyougiftsoffoodorclothing,orwereferociouslyarmed,youwouldnothavebeensureofawelcome.Iamsorrytopaintsuchapictureofourcountryatthattime,butthereyouare.

ToreturntoAxlandBeatrice.AsIsaid,thiselderlycouplelivedontheouterfringesofthewarren,wheretheirshelterwaslessprotectedfrom the elements and hardly benefited from the fire in the GreatChamber where everyone congregated at night. Perhaps there hadbeenatimewhentheyhadlivedclosertothefire;atimewhentheyhad livedwith their children. In fact, it was just such an idea thatwould drift into Axl’s mind as he lay in his bed during the emptyhours before dawn, hiswife soundly asleep beside him, and then asenseofsomeunnamedlosswouldgnawathisheart,preventinghimfromreturningtosleep.

Perhaps that was why, on this particular morning, Axl hadabandonedhisbedaltogetherandslippedquietlyoutsidetositontheoldwarpedbenchbeside theentrance to thewarren inwait for thefirst signsofdaylight. Itwasspring,but theair still feltbitter,evenwith Beatrice’s cloak, which he had taken on his way out andwrapped around himself. Yet he had become so absorbed in histhoughtsthatbythetimeherealisedhowcoldhewas,thestarshadallbutgone,aglowwasspreadingonthehorizon,andthefirstnotesofbirdsongwereemergingfromthedimness.

Heroseslowlytohisfeet,regrettinghavingstayedoutsolong.Hewasingoodhealth,butithadtakenawhiletoshakeoffhislastfeverandhedidnotwishit toreturn.Nowhecouldfeel thedampinhislegs,butasheturnedtogobackinside,hewaswellsatisfied:forhehadthismorningsucceededinrememberinganumberofthingsthathadeludedhimforsometime.Moreover,henowsensedhewasabouttocometosomemomentousdecision—onethathadbeenputofffartoo long—and felt anexcitementwithinhimwhichhewaseager tosharewithhiswife.

Inside, the passageways of the warren were still in completedarkness,andhewasobligedtofeelhiswaytheshortdistancebackto the door of his chamber. Many of the “doorways” within thewarren were simple archways tomark the threshold to a chamber.The open nature of this arrangement would not have struck thevillagersascompromisingtheirprivacy,butallowedroomstobenefitfrom anywarmth coming down the corridors from the great fire orthe smaller fires permitted within the warren. Axl and Beatrice’sroom,however,beingtoofarfromanyfirehadsomethingwemightrecogniseasanactualdoor;alargewoodenframecriss-crossedwithsmall branches, vines and thistles which someone going in and outwouldeachtimehavetolifttooneside,butwhichshutoutthechillydraughts.Axlwouldhappilyhavedonewithoutthisdoor,butithadovertimebecomeanobjectofconsiderablepridetoBeatrice.Hehadoften returned to find hiswife pulling offwithered pieces from theconstruct and replacing them with fresh cuttings she had gatheredduringtheday.

Thismorning,Axlmovedthebarrierjustenoughtolethimself in,takingcare tomakeas littlenoiseaspossible.Here, theearlydawnlight was leaking into the room through the small chinks of theirouterwall.Hecouldseehishanddimlybeforehim,andontheturfbed,Beatrice’sformstillsoundasleepunderthethickblankets.

Hewastemptedtowakehiswife.Forapartofhimfeltsurethatif,at this moment, she were awake and talking to him, whatever lastbarriers remained between him and his decision would finallycrumble.But itwassometimeyetuntil thecommunityrouseditselfandtheday’sworkbegan,sohesettledhimselfonthelowstoolinthecornerofthechamber,hiswife’scloakstilltightaroundhim.

Hewonderedhowthickthemistwouldbethatmorning,andif,as

thedark faded,hewouldsee ithadseeped through thecracks rightinto their chamber. But then his thoughts drifted away from suchmatters,back towhathadbeenpreoccupyinghim.Had theyalwayslived like this, just the two of them, at the periphery of thecommunity?Orhadthingsoncebeenquitedifferent?Earlier,outside,some fragments of a remembrance had come back to him: a smallmomentwhenhewaswalkingdownthelongcentralcorridorofthewarren, his arm around one of his own children, his gait a littlecrouched not on account of age as it might be now, but simplybecause he wished to avoid hitting his head on the beams in themurkylight.Possiblythechildhadjustbeenspeakingtohim,sayingsomethingamusing,andtheywerebothof themlaughing.Butnow,as earlier outside, nothing would quite settle in his mind, and themore he concentrated, the fainter the fragments seemed to grow.Perhaps thesewere just an elderly fool’s imaginings. Perhaps itwasthatGodhadnevergiventhemchildren.

YoumaywonderwhyAxl did not turn to his fellow villagers forassistanceinrecallingthepast,butthiswasnotaseasyasyoumightsuppose.Forinthiscommunitythepastwasrarelydiscussed.Idonotmeanthatitwastaboo.Imeanthatithadsomehowfadedintoamistasdenseasthatwhichhungoverthemarshes.Itsimplydidnotoccurtothesevillagerstothinkaboutthepast—eventherecentone.

To takean instance,one thathadbotheredAxl forsometime:Hewassurethatnotsolongago,therehadbeenintheirmidstawomanwith long red hair—a woman regarded as crucial to their village.Wheneveranyoneinjuredthemselvesorfellsick,ithadbeenthisred-hairedwoman, so skilled athealing,whowas immediately sent for.Yetnowthissamewomanwasnolongertobefoundanywhere,andno one seemed to wonder what had occurred, or even to expressregret at her absence. When one morning Axl had mentioned themattertothreeneighbourswhileworkingwiththemtobreakupthefrostedfield,theirresponsetoldhimthattheygenuinelyhadnoideawhathewastalkingabout.Oneofthemhadevenpausedinhisworkinanefforttoremember,buthadendedbyshakinghishead.“Musthavebeenalongtimeago,”hehadsaid.

“NeitherhaveIanymemoryofsuchawoman,”Beatricehadsaidtohimwhenhehadbroughtupthematterwithheronenight.“Perhapsyou dreamt her up for your own needs, Axl, even though you’ve a

wifeherebesideyouandwithabackstraighterthanyours.”

Thishadbeensometimethepreviousautumn,andtheyhadbeenlyingsidebysideontheirbedinthepitchblack,listeningtotherainbeatingagainsttheirshelter.

“It’s trueyou’vehardly agedat all down theyears, princess,”Axlhad said. “But thewomanwas no dream, and you’d remember heryourself ifyousparedamoment to thinkabout it.Thereshewasatourdooronlyamonthago,akindlysoulaskingiftherewasanythingshemightbringus.Surelyyouremember.”

“Butwhywasshewishingtobringusanythingatall?Wassheakintous?”

“Idon’tbelieve shewas,princess.Shewas justbeingkind.Surelyyouremember.Shewasoftenatthedooraskingifweweren’tcoldorhungry.”

“WhatI’masking,Axl, iswhatbusinesswas itofherstosingleusoutforherkindness?”

“I wondered myself at the time, princess. I remember thinkinghere’sawomangiventotendingthesick,andyethere’sthetwoofusbothashealthyasanyinthevillage.Isthereperhapstalkofaplagueonthewayandshe’sheretolookusover?Butitturnsoutthere’snoplagueandshe’sjustbeingkind.Nowwe’retalkingaboutherthere’sevenmorecomesbacktome.Shewasstandingtheretellingusnottomindthechildrencallingusnames.Thatwasit.Thenweneversawheragain.”

“Notonly is thisred-hairedwomanadreamfromyourmind,Axl,she’s a fool to be worrying herself about a few children and theirgames.”

“JustwhatIthoughtatthetime,princess.Whatharmcanchildrendousand they justpassing the timeofdaywhen theweather’s toodrearyoutside. I toldherhowwehadn’t given it a second thought,butshemeantkindlyallthesame.AndthenIrememberhersayingitwasapitywehadtospendournightswithoutacandle.”

“If thiscreaturepitiedusour lackofacandle,”Beatricehadsaid,“shehadonethingrightatleast.It’saninsult,forbiddingusacandlethrough nights like these and our hands as steady as any of them.While there’s others with candles in their chamber, senseless each

night from cider, or else with children running wild. Yet it’s ourcandle they’ve taken, and now I can hardly see your outline, Axl,thoughyou’rerightbesideme.”

“There’sno insult intended,princess. It’s just theway thingshavealwaysbeendoneandthat’sallthereistoit.”

“Well it’snot justyourdreamwoman thinks it strangewe shouldhaveourcandletakenfromus.Yesterdayorwasitthedaybefore,Iwas at the river andwalking past thewomen and I’m sure I heardthemsaying,whentheysupposedI’dgoneoutofhearing,howitwasa disgrace an upright couple like us having to sit in the dark eachnight.Soyourdreamwoman’snotaloneinthinkingwhatshedoes.”

“She’snodreamwomanIkeeptellingyou,princess.Everyonehereknewheramonthagoandhadagoodwordforher.Whatcanitbemakeseveryone,yourselfincluded,forgetsheeverlived?”

Recalling the conversation now on this spring’smorning, Axl feltalmost ready to admit he had been mistaken about the red-hairedwoman. He was after all an ageing man and prone to occasionalconfusion.Andyet, this instanceof the red-hairedwomanhadbeenmerelyoneofasteadyrunofsuchpuzzlingepisodes.Frustratingly,hecould not at thismoment think of somany examples, but they hadbeen numerous, of that there was no doubt. There had been, forinstance,theincidentconcerningMarta.

Thiswasalittlegirlofnineortenwhohadalwayshadareputationfor fearlessness. All the hair-raising tales of what could happen towanderingchildrenseemednottodampenhersenseofadventure.Sotheeveningwhen,withlessthananhourofdaylightremaining,themistcominginandthewolvesaudibleonthehillside,thewordwentaroundthatMartawasmissing,everyonehadstoppedwhattheyweredoing in alarm. For thenext littlewhile, voices calledher name allaroundthewarrenandfootstepsrushedupanddownitscorridorsasvillagers searched every sleeping chamber, the storage burrows, thecavities beneath the rafters, any hiding place a child might go toamuseherself.

Theninthemidstofthispanic,twoshepherdsreturningfromtheirshift on the hills came into theGreat Chamber and beganwarmingthemselvesby the fire.As theydid so,oneof themannouncedhowthe day before they had watched a wren-eagle circle above their

heads,once,twice,thenathirdtime.Therewasnomistake,hesaid,ithad been a wren-eagle.Word quickly went around the warren andsoonacrowdhadgatheredaroundthefiretolistentotheshepherds.EvenAxlhadhurriedtojointhem,fortheappearanceofawren-eagleintheircountrywasnewsindeed.Amongthemanypowersattributedto the wren-eagle was the ability to frighten away wolves, andelsewhereintheland,itwassaid,wolveshadvanishedaltogetheronaccountofthesebirds.

Atfirsttheshepherdswerequestionedeagerlyandmadetorepeattheirstoryoverandover.Thensteadilyascepticismbegantospreadamong the listeners. There had beenmany similar claims, someonepointedout,andeachtimetheyhadprovedunfounded.Someoneelsestated that these same two shepherds had only the previous springbrought back an identical story, and yet no further sightings hadfollowed. The shepherds angrily denied bringing any such previousreport, and soon the crowd was dividing between those taking theshepherds’ side and those claiming some memory of the allegedepisodethepreviousyear.

As the quarrel grew heated, Axl found coming over him thatfamiliar nagging sense that somethingwas not right, and removinghimself from the shouting and jostling,went outside to stare at thedarkeningskyandthemistrollingovertheground.Andafterawhile,fragments began to piece themselves together in his mind, of themissingMarta,ofthedanger,ofhownotlongagoeveryonehadbeensearching for her. But already these recollections were growingconfused,inmuchthewayadreamdoesinthesecondsafterwaking,anditwasonlywithasupremeactofconcentrationthatAxlheldontothethoughtoflittleMartaatallwhilevoicesbehindhimcontinuedto argue about thewren-eagle. Then, as hewas standing there likethat, he heard the sound of a girl singing to herself and sawMartaemergebeforehimoutofthemist.

“You’reastrangeone,child,”Axlsaidasshecameskippinguptohim.“Aren’tyouafraidofthedark?Ofthewolvesortheogres?”

“Oh, I’m afraid of them, sir,” she saidwith a smile. “But I knowhow to hide from them. I hopemy parents haven’t been asking forme.Igotsuchahidinglastweek.”

“Asking for you?Of course they’ve been asking for you. Isn’t thewholevillage searching for you?Listen to thatuproar inside.That’s

allforyou,child.”

Martalaughedandsaid:“Ohstopit,sir!Iknowthey’venotmissedme.AndIcanhear,that’snotmethey’reshoutingabout.”

Whenshesaidthis,itoccurredtoAxlthatsureenoughthegirlwasright: thevoices insidewerenotarguingaboutheratall,butaboutsomeothermatteraltogether.Heleanedtowardsthedoorwaytohearbetter, andashe caught theoddphrase amidst the raisedvoices, itbegantocomebacktohim,abouttheshepherdsandthewren-eagle.He was wondering if he should explain something of this toMartawhenshesuddenlyskippedpasthimandwentinside.

He followedher in,anticipating the reliefand joyherappearancewouldcause.Andtobefrank,ithadoccurredtohimthatbycominginwithher,hewouldgetalittleofthecreditforhersafereturn.Butas they entered the Great Chamber the villagers were still soengrossedintheirquarrelovertheshepherdsonlyafewofthemevenbotheredtolooktheirway.Marta’smotherdidcomeawayfromthecrowdlongenoughtosaytothechild:“Sohereyouare!Don’tyoubewanderingoff thatway!Howoftenmust I tell you?”before turningher attention back to the arguments raging around the fire.At this,MartagaveAxlagrinas though to say: “Seewhat I toldyou?”andvanishedintotheshadowsinsearchofhercompanions.

Theroomhadgrownsignificantlylighter.Theirchamber,beingontheouterfringe,hadasmallwindowtotheoutside,thoughitwastoohightogazeoutofwithoutstandingonastool.Itwasatthismomentcoveredwith a cloth, but now an early ray of sunwas penetratingfrom one corner, casting a beam overwhere Beatricewas sleeping.Axlcouldsee,caughtinthisray,whatlookedlikeaninsecthoveringintheairjustabovehiswife’shead.Hethenrealiseditwasaspider,suspendedbyitsinvisibleverticalthread,andevenashewatched,itstartedonitssmoothdescent.Risingnoiselessly,Axlcrossedthesmallroomandswepthishandthroughthespaceabovehissleepingwife,catching the spiderwithinhis palm.Thenhe stood there amomentlookingdownather.Therewasapeacefulnessonhersleepingfaceherarely saw now when she was awake, and the sudden rush ofhappinessthesightbroughthimtookhimbysurprise.Heknewthenhehadmadeuphismind,andhewantedagaintoawakenher,justsohemightbreaktoherhisnews.Buthesawtheselfishnessofsuchanaction—andbesides,howcouldhebesosureofherresponse?Inthe

endhewentbackquietlytohisstool,andasheseatedhimselfagain,rememberedthespiderandopenedhishandgently.

Whenearlierhehadbeensittingonthebenchoutsidewaitingforthe first light, he had tried to recall how he and Beatrice had firstcometodiscusstheideaoftheirjourney.Hehadthoughtthenhehadlocatedaparticularconversationtheyhadhadonenightinthissamechamber,butnow,ashewatchedthespiderrunroundtheedgeofhishandandontotheearthenfloor,itstruckhimwithcertaintythatthefirstmention of the subject had come that day the stranger in darkragshadpassedthroughthevillage.

It had been a grey morning—was it as long ago now as lastNovember?—andAxlhadbeenstridingbesidetheriveralongafoot-path overhung with willows. He was hurrying back to the warrenfrom the fields, perhaps to fetch a tool or receive new instructionsfrom a foreman. In any case, he was stopped by a burst of raisedvoices frombeyond thebushes tohis right.His first thoughtwasofogres, and he searched quickly around for a rock or stick. Then herealisedthevoices—allofwomen—thoughangryandexcited,lackedthepanicthataccompaniedogreattacks.Heneverthelesspushedhisway determinedly through a hedge of juniper shrubs and stumbledinto a clearing,where he saw fivewomen—not in their first youth,but still of child-bearingage—standing closely together.Theirbackswere turned to him and theywent on shouting at something in thedistance.Hewasalmostuptothembeforeoneofthewomennoticedhimwithastart,butthentheothersturnedandregardedhimalmostwithinsolence.

“Well,well,”saidone.“Perhapsit’schanceorsomethingmore.Buthere’sthehusbandandhopefullyhe’lldrivesenseintoher.”

Thewomanwhohadseenhimfirstsaid:“Wetoldyourwifenottogo but she wouldn’t listen. She’s insisting she’ll take food to thestrangerthoughshe’smostlikelyademonorelsesomeelfdisguised.”

“Ismywifeindanger?Ladies,pleaseexplainyourselves.”

“There’sastrangewomanbeenwanderingaroundusallmorning,”another said. “Hair down her back and a cloak of black rags. Sheclaimed tobeaSaxonbut she’snotdressed likeanySaxonweevermet.Shetriedtocreepupbehindusontheriverbankwhenwewereattendingtothelaundry,butwesawheringoodtimeandchasedher

away. But she kept returning, acting like she was heart-broken forsomething,othertimesaskingusforfood.Wereckonshewasallthewhileaimingher spell straight towardsyourwife, sir, for twicethismorningalreadywehadtoholdBeatricebackbythearms,sointentwassheongoingtothedemon.Andnowshe’sfoughtusalloffandgoneuptotheoldthornwhereevennowthedemon’ssittingwaitingfor her.We held her all we could, sir, but it must be the demon’spowers already moving through her because her strength wasunnaturalforawomansothin-bonedandagedasyourwife.”

“Theoldthorn…”

“Shesetoffonlyamomentago,sir.Butthat’sademontobesure,andifyou’reoffafterheryou’llwatchyou’renotstumblingorcuttingyourselfonapoisonedthistlethewayitwillneverheal.”

Axl did his best to hide his irritation with these women, sayingpolitely: “I’mgrateful, ladies. I’ll goand seewhatmywife isup to.Excuseme.”

To our villagers, “the old thorn” denoted a local beauty spot asmuchastheactualhawthorntreethatgrewseeminglyrightoutoftherockattheedgeofthepromontoryashortwalkfromthewarren.Ona sunny day, provided the wind was not strong, it was a pleasantplacetopassthetime.Youhadagoodviewofthelanddowntothewater, of the river’s curve and the marshes beyond. On Sundayschildrenoftenplayedaround thegnarledroots, sometimesdaring tojumpofftheendofthepromontory,whichinfacthadonlyagentledrop that would cause a child no injury, but simply to roll like abarreldown thegrassy slope.Butonamorning like this one,whenadultsandchildrenalikewerebusywith tasks, thespotwouldhavebeendeserted,andAxl,comingthroughthemistuptheincline,wasnotsurprisedtoseethetwowomenwerealone, their figuresalmostsilhouettes against thewhite sky. Sure enough, the stranger, seatedwith her back against the rock, was dressed curiously. From adistance, at least, her cloak appeared to bemade ofmany separatepiecesofclothstitchedtogether,anditwasnowflappinginthewind,giving itsowner theappearanceofagreatbirdabout to take flight.Beside her, Beatrice—still on her feet, though with head loweredtowardsher companion—appeared slight andvulnerable.Theywerein earnest conversation, but spotting Axl’s approach below, stoppedandwatchedhim.ThenBeatricecametotheedgeofthepromontory

andcalleddown:

“Just stop there, husband, no further! I’ll come to you. But don’tclimbuphereandbedisturbing thispoor lady’speacenowshe’satlastabletorestherfeetandeatalittleofyesterday’sbread.”

Axlwaitedasinstructedandbeforelongsawhiswifecomingdownthe long field-path towhere hewas standing. She came right up tohim,andconcernednodoubtthatthewindwouldcarrytheirwordsuptothestranger,saidinalowvoice:

“Have those foolish women sent you after me, husband?When Iwastheirage,I’msureitwastheoldoneswerefulloffearandfoolishbeliefs,reckoningeverystonecursedandeachstraycatanevilspirit.ButnowI’mgrownoldmyself,whatdoIfindbutit’stheyoungareriddledwithbeliefsliketheyneverheardtheLord’spromisetowalkbeside us at all times. Look at that poor stranger, see her yourself,exhausted and solitary, and she’swandered the forest and fields forfourdays,villageaftervillagecommandinghertotravelon.Andit’sChristian country she’s walked across, but taken for a demon ormaybealeperthoughherskinbearsnomarkofit.Now,husband,Ihope you’re not here to tell me I’m not to give this poor womancomfortandwhatsorryfoodIhavewithme.”

“Iwouldn’t tell you any such thing, princess, for I see formyselfwhat you’re saying is true. I was thinking before I even came herehow it’s a shameful thingwe can’t receive a strangerwith kindnessanymore.”

“Then go onwith your business, husband, for I’m sure they’ll becomplaining again how slow you are at yourwork, and before youknowthey’llhavethechildrenchantingatusagain.”

“Noone’seversaidI’mslowinmywork,princess.Wheredidyouhearsuchathing?I’veneverheardawordofsuchcomplaintandI’mabletotakethesameburdenasanymantwentyyearsyounger.”

“I’m only teasing, husband. Right enough, there’s no onecomplainingaboutyourwork.”

“If there’s children calling us names, it’s not to dowithmyworkbeing fast or slow but parents too foolish or more likely drunk toteachthemmannersorrespect.”

“Calmyourself,husband. I toldyou Iwas just teasingand Iwon’t

do so again. The stranger was telling me something that greatlyinterestsme andmay some time interest you too. But she needs tofinish the telling of it, so let me ask you again to hurry on withwhatevertaskyouhavetodoandleavemetolistentoherandgivewhatcomfortIcan.”

“I’msorry,princess,ifIspokeharshlytoyoujustthen.”

ButBeatricehadalreadyturnedandwasclimbingthepathbacktothethorntreeandthefigureintheflappingcloak.

Alittlelater,havingcompletedhiserrand,Axlwasreturningtothefields, and at the risk of testing the patience of his colleagues,deviatedfromhisroutetogopasttheoldthornagain.Forthetruthwasthatwhilehehadfullysharedhiswife’sscornforthesuspiciousinstinctsofthewomen,hehadnotbeenabletofreehimselffromthethought that the stranger did pose some sort of threat, and he hadbeenuneasysinceleavingBeatricewithher.Hewasrelievedthentosee his wife’s figure, alone on the promontory in front of the rock,lookingoutatthesky.Sheseemedlostinthought,andfailedtonoticehimuntilhecalleduptoher.Ashewatchedherdescendingthepath,moreslowlythanbefore,itoccurredtohimnotforthefirsttimethattherewassomethingdifferentlatelyinhergait.Shewasnotlimpingexactly, but it was as though she were nursing some secret painsomewhere.Whenheaskedher,assheapproached,whathadbecomeofheroddcompanion,Beatricesaidsimply:“Shewentonherway.”

“Shewouldhavebeengratefulforyourkindness,princess.Didyouspeaklongwithher?”

“Ididandshehadadealtosay.”

“I can see she said something to trouble you, princess. Perhapsthosewomenwererightandshewasonebestavoided.”

“She’snotupsetme,Axl.Shehasmethinkingthough.”

“You’reinastrangemood.Areyousureshehasn’tputsomespellonyoubeforevanishingintotheair?”

“Walk up there to the thorn, husband, and you’ll see her on thepathandonlyrecentlydeparted.She’shopingforbettercharityfromthosearoundthehill.”

“Well then I’ll leave you, princess, since I see you’ve come to no

harm.Godwillbepleasedforthekindnessyou’veshownasisalwaysyourway.”

Butthistimehiswifeseemedreluctanttolethimgo.Shegraspedhis arm,as thoughmomentarily to steadyherself, then letherheadrestonhischest.Asthoughbyitsowninstinct,hishandrosetocaressherhair, grown tangled in thewind, andwhenheglanceddownatherhewassurprisedtoseehereyesstillwideopen.

“You’re inastrangemood,rightenough,”hesaid.“Whatdidthatstrangersaytoyou?”

She kept her head on his chest for a moment longer. Then shestraightenedandletgoofhim.“NowIthinkofit,Axl,theremaybesomething in what you’re always saying. It’s queer the way theworld’sforgettingpeopleandthingsfromonlyyesterdayandthedaybeforethat.Likeasicknesscomeoverusall.”

“JustwhatIwassaying,princess.Takethatred-hairedwoman…”

“Nevermind the red-hairedwoman, Axl. It’s what elsewe’re notremembering.” She had said this while looking away into themist-layereddistance,butnowshelookedstraightathimandhecouldseehereyeswerefilledwithsadnessandyearning.Anditwasthen—hewassure—thatshesaidtohim:“You’velongsetyourheartagainstit,Axl,Iknow.Butit’stimenowtothinkonitanew.There’sajourneywemustgoon,andnomoredelay.”

“Ajourney,princess?Whatsortofjourney?”

“Ajourneytoourson’svillage.It’snotfar,husband,weknowthat.Evenwithour slowsteps, it’sa fewdays’walkatmost,a littlewayeastbeyondtheGreatPlain.Andthespringwillsoonbeuponus.”

“We might go on such a trip, certainly, princess. Was theresomethingthatstrangersaidjustnowgotyouthinkingofit?”

“It’sbeenathinginmythoughtsalongtime,Axl,thoughit’swhatthatpoorwoman said justnowmakesmewish todelayno further.Oursonawaitsusinhisvillage.Howmuchlongermustwekeephimwaiting?”

“When the spring’s here, princess,we’ll certainly think about justsuchajourney.Butwhydoyousayit’smywishesalwaysstoodinthewayofit?”

“Idon’tremembernowallthat’spassedbetweenusonit,Axl.Onlythatyoualwayssetyourheartagainstit,evenasIlongedforit.”

“Well, princess, let’s talk about it more when there’s no workwaitingandneighboursreadytocallusslow.Letmegoonmywayjustnow.We’lltalkmoreonitsoon.”

Butinthedaysthatfollowed,eveniftheyalludedtotheideaofthisjourney, they never talked properly about it. For they found theybecameoddlyuncomfortablewhenever the topicwasbroached, andbeforelonganunderstandinghadgrownbetweenthem,inthesilentwayunderstandingsdobetweenahusbandandwifeofmanyyears,toavoidthesubjectasmuchaspossible.Isay“asmuchaspossible,”forthereappearedattimestobeaneed—acompulsion,youmightsay—to which one or the other would have to yield. But whateverdiscussions theyhad in such circumstances inevitably endedquicklyinevasivenessorbadtemper.AndontheoneoccasionAxlhadaskedhiswifestraightoutwhatthestrangewomanhadsaidtoherthatdayup at the old thorn, Beatrice’s expressionhad clouded, and she hadseemedforamomentonthevergeoftears.Afterthis,Axlhadtakencaretoavoidanyreferencetothestranger.

After a while Axl could no longer remember how talk of thisjourneyhadstarted,orwhatithadevermeanttothem.Butthenthismorning, sitting outside in the cold hour before dawn, hismemoryseemedpartiallyatleasttoclear,andmanythingshadcomebacktohim: the red-hairedwoman;Marta; the stranger in dark rags; othermemories with which we need not concern ourselves here. And hehad remembered, quite vividly, what had happened only a fewSundaysago,whentheyhadtakenBeatrice’scandlefromher.

Sundayswereadayofrestforthesevillagers,atleasttotheextentthattheydidnotworkinthefields.Butthe livestockhadstill tobecaredfor,andwithsomanyothertaskswaitingtobedone,thepastorhad accepted the impracticality of forbidding everything thatmightbe construed as labour. So it was that when Axl emerged into thespring sunshine that particular Sunday after a morning of mendingboots, the sight that greeted him was of his neighbours spread allaroundtheterrain infrontof thewarren,somesitting inthepatchygrass, others on small stools or logs, talking, laughing andworking.Children were playing everywhere, and one group had gatheredaroundtwomenconstructingonthegrassthewheelforawagon.It

was the first Sunday of the year the weather had permitted suchoutdoor activity, and there was an almost festive atmosphere.Nevertheless, as he stood there at the warren entrance and gazedbeyond the villagers to where the land sloped down towards themarshes,Axlcouldseethemistrisingagain,andsupposedthatbytheafternoontheywouldbesubmergedoncemoreingreydrizzle.

He had been standing there awhilewhen he became aware of acommotiongoingonoverdownbythefencingtothegrazingfields.Itdidnotgreatlyinteresthimatfirst,butthensomethinginthebreezecaughthisearandmadehimstraighten.Forthoughhiseyesighthadgrownannoyinglyblurredwiththeyears,Axl’shearinghadremainedreliable, and he had discerned, in themuddle of shouting emergingfromthecrowdbythefence,Beatrice’svoiceraisedindistress.

Others toowerestoppingwhat theyweredoingto turnandstare.But now Axl hurried through their midst, narrowly avoidingwandering children and objects left on the grass. Before he couldreach the small jostling knot of people, however, it suddenlydispersed,andBeatriceemergedfromitscentre,clutchingsomethingwithbothhands toherbreast.The faces aroundhermostly showedamusement, but the woman who quickly appeared at his wife’sshoulder—the widow of a blacksmith who had died of fever thepreviousyear—hadfeaturestwistedwithfury.Beatriceshookoffhertormentor, her own face all the time a stern, near-blankmask, butwhenshesawAxlcomingtowardsher,itbrokeintoemotion.

Thinking about this now, it seemed to Axl the look on hiswife’sface then had been,more than anything else, one of overwhelmingrelief.ItwasnotthatBeatricehadbelievedallwouldbewelloncehehadarrived;buthispresencehadmadeallthedifferencetoher.Shehad gazed at him not just with relief, but also something likepleading, and held out to him the object she had been jealouslyguarding.

“This is ours, Axl! We’ll not sit in darkness any longer. Take itquickly,husband,it’sours!”

Shewasholdingtowardshimasquat,somewhatmisshapencandle.Theblacksmith’swidowtriedagaintosnatchitfromher,butBeatricestruckawaytheinvadinghand.

“Takeit,husband!Thatchildthere,littleNora,shebroughtittome

this morning after making it with her own hands, thinking we’dgrowntiredofspendingournightsaswedo.”

Thissetoffanotherroundofshoutingandalsosomelaughter.ButBeatrice went on gazing at Axl, her expression full of trust andentreaty,anditwasapictureofherfaceatthatmomentwhichhadfirstcomebacktohimthismorningonthebenchoutsidethewarrenas he had sat waiting for the dawn to break. How was it he hadforgotten this episode when it could have occurred no more thanthreeweeksago?Howcoulditbehehadnotthoughtaboutitagainuntiltoday?

Althoughhehadstretchedouthisarm,hehadnotbeenabletotakethe candle—the crowdhad kept him just out of reach—andhe hadsaid, loudlyandwithsomeconviction:“Don’tworry,princess.Don’tyouworry.”Hewasconsciousoftheemptinessofwhathewassayingevenashespoke,sohewassurprisedwhenthecrowdquietened,andeven the blacksmith’s widow took a step back. Only then did herealise the reactionhadnot been to hiswords, but to the approachbehindhimofthepastor.

“WhatmannersarethesefortheLord’sday?”ThepastorstrodepastAxlandglaredatthenowsilentgathering.“Well?”

“It’sMistressBeatrice,sir,”theblacksmith’swidowsaid.“She’sgotherselfacandle.”

Beatrice’s facewas a tightmask again, but she did not avoid thepastor’sgazewhenitsettledonher.

“I can see formyself it’s true,Mistress Beatrice,” the pastor said.“Nowyou’llnothaveforgottenthecouncil’sedictthatyouandyourhusbandwillnotbepermittedcandlesinyourchamber.”

“We’veneitherofusevertumbledacandleinourlives,sir.Wewillnotsitnightafternightindarkness.”

“The decision has beenmade and you’re to abide by it until thecouncildecidesotherwise.”

Axl saw theangerblaze inhereyes. “It’snothingbutunkindness.That’s all it is.” She said this quietly, almost under her breath, butlookingstraightatthepastor.

“Removethecandlefromher,”thepastorsaid.“DoasIsay.Takeit

fromher.”

Asseveralhandsreachedtowardsher,itseemedtoAxlshehadnotfullyunderstoodwhatthepastorhadsaid.Forshestoodinthemiddleofthejostlingwithapuzzledlook,continuingtogripthecandleasifonlybysomeforgotteninstinct.ThenpanicseemedtoseizeherandsheheldthecandleouttowardsAxlagain,evenasshewasknockedoffbalance.Shedidnot fallonaccountof thosepressing inonher,andrecovering,heldoutthecandleforhimyetagain.Hetriedtotakeit, but another hand snatched it away, and then the pastor’s voiceboomedout:

“Enough!LeaveMistressBeatrice inpeaceandnoneof you speakunkindlytoher.She’sanoldwomanwhodoesn’tunderstandallshedoes.EnoughIsay!ThisisnofitbehaviourfortheLord’sday.”

Axl, finally reaching her, took her in his arms, and the crowdmeltedaway.Whenhe recalled thismoment, it seemed tohim theystayedlikethatforalongtime,standingclosetogether,shewithherhead restingonhis chest, just theway shehaddone thedayof thestrangewoman’svisit,asthoughsheweremerelywearyandwishingto catch her breath. He continued to hold her as the pastor calledagain for the people to disperse. When finally they separated andlookedaroundthemselves,theyfoundtheywerealonebesidethecowfieldanditsbarredwoodengate.

“Whatdoesitmatter,princess?”hesaid.“Whatdoweneedwithacandle?We’rewellusedtomovingaroundourroomwithoutone.Anddon’twekeepourselvesentertainedwellenoughwithourtalk,candleornocandle?”

He observed her carefully. She appeared dreamy, and notparticularlyupset.

“I’msorry,Axl,”shesaid.“Thecandle’sgone.Ishouldhavekeptita secret for the twoofus.But Iwasoverjoyedwhen theyounggirlbroughtittomeandshe’dcrafteditherselfjustforus.Nowit’sgone.Nomatter.”

“Nomatteratall,princess.”

“Theythinkusafoolishpair,Axl.”

She took a step forward and placed her head on his chest again.Anditwasthenthatshesaid,hervoicemuffledsoheatfirstthought

hehadmisheard:

“Ourson,Axl.Doyourememberourson?Whentheywerepushingme just now, it was our son I remembered. A fine, strong, uprightman.Whymustwe stay in this place? Let’s go to our son’s village.He’llprotectusandseenoonetreatsusill.Willyourheartnotchangeonit,Axl,andalltheseyearsnowpassed?Doyoustillsaywecan’tgotohim?”

As she said this, softly intohis chest,many fragments ofmemorytugged at Axl’s mind, so much so that he felt almost faint. Heloosenedhisholdonherandsteppedback,fearinghemightswayandcausehertoloseherownbalance.

“What’sthisyou’resaying,princess?WasIevertheonetostopusjourneyingtoourson’svillage?”

“Butsurelyyouwere,Axl.Surelyyouwere.”

“WhendidIspeakagainstsuchajourney,princess?”

“Ialwaysthoughtyoudid,husband.Butoh,Axl,Idon’trememberclearlynowyouquestionit.Andwhydowestandouthere,finedaythoughitis?”

Beatriceappearedconfusedagain.Shelookedintohisface,thenallaround her, at the pleasant sunshine, their neighbours once moregivingattentiontotheiractivities.

“Let’sgoandsitinourchamber,”shesaidafterawhile.“Letitbejust the twoofus for awhile.A fineday, right enough,but I’malltiredout.Let’sgoinside.”

“That’s right,princess. Sitdownand rest awhile,outof this sun.You’llsoonfeelbetter.”

Therewereothersawakenowallaroundthewarren.Theshepherdsmust have gone out some time ago though he had been so lost inthoughthehadnot evenheard them.At theother endof the roomBeatricemadeamurmuringsound,as thoughshewerepreparing tosing, thenturnedoverundertheblankets.Recognisingthesesignals,Axlmadehiswayacrosstothebedinsilence,satcarefullyonitsedgeandwaited.

Beatriceshiftedontoherback,openedhereyespartiallyandgazedatAxl.

“Goodmorning,husband,”shesaideventually.“I’mgladtoseethespiritschosenottotakeyouawayasIslept.”

“Princess,there’ssomethingIwanttotalkabout.”

Beatricewent on gazing up at him, her eyes still only half open.Thenshebroughtherselfuptoasittingposture,herfacecrossingthebeamoflightthatearlierhadilluminatedthespider.Hergreymane,untiedandmatted,hungstifflydownpasthershoulders,butAxlstillfelthappinessstirwithinhimatthissightofherinthemorninglight.

“Whatisityouhavetosay,Axl,andbeforeI’vehadtimetorubthesleepfrommyeyes?”

“Wetalkedbefore,princess,aboutajourneywemightmake.Well,here’sthespringuponus,andperhapsit’stimewesetoff.”

“Setoff,Axl?Setoffwhen?”

“As soon as we’re able. We need only be gone a few days. Thevillagecanspareus.We’lltalktothepastor.”

“Andwillwegotoseeourson,Axl?”

“That’swherewe’llgo.Toseeourson.”

Outside the birds were now in chorus. Beatrice turned her gazetowardsthewindowandthesunleakingpasttheclothhungoverit.

“SomedaysIrememberhimclearenough,”shesaid.“Thenthenextdayit’sasifaveil’sfallenoverhismemory.Butourson’safineandgoodman,Iknowthatforsure.”

“Whyishenotwithusherenow,princess?”

“I don’t know,Axl. It could be he quarrelledwith the elders andhad to leave. I’ve asked around and there’s no one here remembershim.Buthewouldn’thavedoneanythingtobringshameonhimself,Iknowforsure.Canyouremembernothingofityourself,Axl?”

“When I was outside just now, doing my best to remember all Icould in the stillness, many things came back to me. But I can’trememberourson,neitherhisfacenorhisvoice,thoughsometimesIthinkIcanseehimwhenhewasasmallboy,andI’mleadinghimbythehandbesidetheriverbank,orwhenhewasweepingonetimeandI was reaching out to comfort him. But what he looks like today,wherehe’sliving,ifhehasasonofhisown,Idon’trememberatall.I

washopingyou’dremembermore,princess.”

“He’sourson,”Beatricesaid.“SoIcanfeelthingsabouthim,evenifIdon’trememberclearly.AndIknowhelongsforustoleavethisplaceandbelivingwithhimunderhisprotection.”

“He’s our flesh and blood, so whywould he not want us to joinhim?”

“Evenso, I’llmiss thisplace,Axl.This smallchamberofoursandthis village. No light thing to leave a place you’ve known all yourlife.”

“Noone’saskingustodoitwithoutthought,princess.WhileIwaswaitingforthesuntorisejustnow,Iwasthinkingwe’llneedtomakethisjourneytoourson’svillageandtalkwithhim.Forevenifwe’rehis mother and father, it’s not for us to arrive one fine day anddemandtoliveaspartofhisvillage.”

“You’reright,husband.”

“There’sanotherthingtroublesme,princess.Thisvillagemayonlybeafewdaysawayasyousay.Buthowwillweknowwheretofindit?”

Beatricefellsilent,gazingintothespacebeforeher,hershouldersswayinggentlywithherbreathing.“Ibelievewe’llknowourwaywellenough, Axl,” she said eventually. “Even if we don’t yet know hisexactvillage,I’llhavetravelledtoonesnearbyoftenenoughwiththeother women when trading our honey and tin. I’ll know my wayblindfolded to theGreat Plain, and the Saxon village beyondwherewe’veoftenrested.Ourson’svillagecanonlybealittlewayfurther,sowe’llfinditwithlittletrouble.Axl,arewereallytogosoon?”

“Yes,princess.We’llstartpreparingtoday.”

ChapterTwo

Therewere,however,plentyofthingstoattendtobeforetheycouldsetoff.Inavillagelikethis,manyitemsnecessaryfortheirjourney—blankets,waterflasks,tinder—werecommunallyownedandsecuringtheir use requiredmuch bargainingwith neighbours.Moreover, AxlandBeatrice,advanced though theywere inyears,had theirburdenofdailydutiesandcouldnotsimplygoawaywithouttheconsentofthe community. And evenwhen theywere finally ready to leave, aturnintheweatherdelayedthemfurther.Forwhatwasthepointofrisking the hazards of fog, rain and coldwhen sunshinewas surelyjustaroundthecorner?

Buttheydideventuallysetoff,withwalkingsticksandbundlesontheirbacks,onabrightmorningofwispywhitecloudsandastrongbreeze.Axlhadwishedtostartatfirstlight—itwascleartohimthedaywouldbe fine—butBeatricehad insistedonwaiting till the sunwas higher. The Saxon village where they would shelter the firstnight, she argued, was easily within a day’s walk, and surely theirprioritywastocrossthecorneroftheGreatPlainasclosetonoonaspossible,when the dark forces of that placeweremost likely to bedormant.

It hadbeen awhile since theyhadwalked anydistance together,andAxlhadbeenanxiousabouthiswife’sstamina.Butafteranhourhe found himself reassured: though her pace was slow—he noticedagain something lop-sided about her gait, as if shewere cushioningsome pain—Beatrice kept moving on steadily, head down into thewind in open land, undaunted when confronted by thistles andundergrowth.Onuphills,orgroundsomuddyitwasanefforttopullone foot out after the other, she would slow right down, but keeppushingon.

In the days before their journey’s start, Beatrice had grownincreasingly confident of remembering their route, at least as far asthe Saxon village which she had regularly visited with the otherwomen over the years. But once they lost sight of the craggy hillsabove their settlement, and had crossed the valley beyond the

marshland, shebecame less certain.At a fork in apath, or facingawindswept field, she would pause and stand for a long time, paniccreepingintohergazeasshesurveyedtheland.

“Don’tworry, princess,” Axlwould say on such occasions. “Don’tworryandtakeallthetimeyouneed.”

“ButAxl,”shewouldsay,turningtohim,“wedon’thavetime.WemustcrosstheGreatPlainatnoonifwe’retodosoinsafety.”

“We’ll be there in good time, princess. You take all the time youneed.”

I might point out here that navigation in open country wassomethingmuchmoredifficultinthosedays,andnotjustbecauseofthe lack of reliable compasses and maps. We did not yet have thehedgerowsthatsopleasantlydividethecountrysidetodayintofield,laneandmeadow.A travellerof that timewould, oftenasnot, findhimselfinfeaturelesslandscape,theviewalmostidenticalwhicheverwayheturned.Arowofstandingstonesonthefarhorizon,aturnofastream,theparticularriseandfallofavalley:suchcluesweretheonlymeans of charting a course. And the consequences of awrongturncouldoftenprovefatal.Nevermindthepossibilitiesofperishinginbadweather:strayingoffcoursemeantexposingoneselfmorethanevertotheriskofassailants—human,animalorsupernatural—lurkingawayfromtheestablishedroads.

Youmighthavebeensurprisedbyhowlittletheyconversedastheywalked,thiscoupleusuallysofullofthingstotelleachother.Butatatime when a broken ankle or an infected graze could belifethreatening, there was a recognition that concentration wasdesirable at each and every step. You might also have noted thatwhenever the path grew too narrow to walk side by side, it wasalwaysBeatrice,notAxl,whowent in front.This toomightsurpriseyou, it seemingmorenatural for themantogo first intopotentiallyhazardousterrain,andsureenough,inwoodlandorwheretherewasthepossibilityofwolvesorbears,theywouldswitchpositionswithoutdiscussion.Butforthemostpart,Axlwouldmakesurehiswifewentfirst,forthereasonthatpracticallyeveryfiendorevilspirittheywerelikelytoencounterwasknowntotargetitspreyattherearofaparty—inmuchtheway,Isuppose,abigcatwillstalkanantelopeattheback of the herd. There were numerous instances of a travellerglancing back to the companion walking behind, only to find the

latter vanishedwithout trace. Itwas the fear of such an occurrencethatcompelledBeatriceintermittentlytoaskastheywalked:“Areyoustill there, Axl?” To which he would answer routinely: “Still here,princess.”

They reached the edge of the Great Plain by late morning. Axlsuggestedtheypushonandputthehazardbehindthem,butBeatricewasadamanttheyshouldwaittillnoon.Theysatdownonarockatthe top of the hillslope leading down to the plain, and watchedcarefully the shortening shadows of their sticks, held upright beforethemintheearth.

“Itmaybeagoodsky,Axl,” she said. “And I’venotheardofanywickednessbefallingapersoninthiscorneroftheplain.Allthesame,betterwaitfornoon,whensurelynodemonwillcareeventopeekouttoseeuspass.”

“We’llwait, justasyousay,princess.Andyou’re right, this is theGreatPlainafterall,evenifit’sabenevolentcornerofit.”

Theysattherelikethatforalittlewhile,lookingdownatthelandbeforethem,hardlyspeaking.AtonepointBeatricesaid:

“Whenweseeourson,Axl,he’ssuretoinsistweliveathisvillage.Won’titbestrangetoleaveourneighboursaftertheseyears,evenifthey’resometimesteasingourgreyhairs?”

“Nothing’s decided yet, princess. We’ll talk everything over withoursonwhenweseehim.”AxlwentongazingoutattheGreatPlain.Then he shook his head and said quietly: “It’s odd, theway I can’trecallhimatalljustnow.”

“IthoughtIdreamtabouthimlastnight,”Beatricesaid.“Standingby a well, and turning, just a little to one side, and calling tosomeone.Whatcamebeforeorafter’sgonenow.”

“At least you sawhim,princess, even if in adream.Whatdidhelooklike?”

“Astrong,handsomeface,thatmuchIremember.Butthecolourofhiseyes,theturnofhischeek,I’venomemoryofthem.”

“Idon’trecallhisfacenowatall,”Axlsaid.“Itmustallbetheworkof thismist.Manythings I’llhappily letgoto it,but it’scruelwhenwecan’trememberapreciousthinglikethat.”

Shemovedclosertohim,lettingherheadfallonhisshoulder.Thewindwasnowbeatinghardatthemandpartofhercloakhadcomeloose.Puttinganarmaroundher,Axl trapped thecloakandheld ittightlytoher.

“Well, I dare say one or the other of us will remember soonenough,”hesaid.

“Let’stry,Axl.Let’sbothofustry.It’sasifwe’vemislaidapreciousstone.Butsurelywe’llfinditagainifwebothtry.”

“Surelywewill, princess. But look, the shadows are almost gone.It’stimeforustogodown.”

Beatrice straightenedandbegan rummaging inherbundle. “Here,we’llcarrythese.”

Shehandedtohimwhatlookedliketwosmoothpebbles,butwhenhe studied them he saw complex patterns cut into the face of eachone.

“Put them in your belt, Axl, and take care to keep themarkingsfacing out. Itwill help the LordChrist keep us safe. I’ll carry theseothers.”

“Onewillbeenoughforme,princess.”

“No,Axl,we’llsharethemequally.NowwhatIrememberisthere’sa path to follow down there and unless rain’s washed it away thewalkingwillbeeasier thanmostofwhatwe’vehad.But there’soneplaceweneedtobecautious.Axl,areyoulisteningtome?It’swhenthe path goes over where the giant is buried. To one who doesn’tknowit,it’sanordinaryhill,butI’llsignaltoyouandwhenyouseemeyou’retofollowoffthepathandroundtheedgeofthehilltillwemeetthesamepathonitswaydown.It’lldousnogoodtreadingoversuchagrave,highnoonornot.Areyoufullyunderstandingme,Axl?”

“Don’tworry,princess,Iunderstandyouverywell.”

“AndIdon’tneedtoremindyou.Ifweseeastrangeronourpath,or calling us from nearby, or any poor animal caught in a trap orinjuredinaditch,oranysuchthingmightcatchyourattention,youdon’tspeakawordorslowyourstepforit.”

“I’mnofool,princess.”

“Well,then,Axl,it’stimewewent.”

AsBeatricehadpromised,theywererequiredtowalkontheGreatPlain for only a short distance. Their path, thoughmuddy at times,remaineddefinedandnevertookthemoutofsunlight.Afteraninitialdescentitclimbedsteadily,tilltheyfoundthemselveswalkingalongahighridge,moorlandoneithersideofthem.Thewindwasfierce,butif anything a welcome antidote to the noon sun. The groundeverywherewascoveredinheatherandgorse,nevermorethankneehigh,andonlyoccasionallydidatreecomeintoview—somesolitary,crone-likespecimen,bowedbyendlessgales.Thenavalleyappearedtotheirright,remindingthemofthepowerandmysteryoftheGreatPlain,andthattheywerenowtrespassingonbutasmallcornerofit.

Theywalkedclosetogether,Axlalmostathiswife’sheels.Evenso,throughoutthecrossing,Beatricecontinuedeveryfiveorsixstepstochant, in themanner of a litany, the question: “Are you still there,Axl?” towhich hewould respond: “Still here, princess.”Aside fromthis ritualisticexchange, theysaidnothing.Evenwhen theyreachedthegiant’sburialmound,andBeatricemadeurgentsignsforthemtomove from the path into the heather, they kept up this call andresponse in level tones, as though wishing to deceive any listeningdemons about their intentions. All the while Axl watched for fast-movingmistorsuddendarkeningsinthesky,buttherecamenohintofeither,andthentheyhadputtheGreatPlainbehindthem.Astheyclimbed through a small wood full of songbirds, Beatrice made nocomment,buthecould seeherwholeposture relax, andher refraincametoanend.

Theyrestedbesideabrook,wheretheybathedtheirfeet,atebreadand refilled their flasks. From this point their route followeda longsunken lane from Roman days, lined by oaks and elms, which wasmucheasierwalking,but requiredvigilanceonaccountof theotherwayfarerstheywereboundtomeet.Andsureenough,duringthefirsthour,theyencounteredcomingtheotherwayawomanwithhertwochildren, a boy driving donkeys, and a pair of travelling playershurrying to rejoin their troupe. On each occasion they stopped toexchange pleasantries, but another time, hearing the clatter ofapproaching wheels and hooves, they hid themselves in the ditch.Thistooprovedharmless—aSaxonfarmerwithahorseandcartpiledhighwithfirewood.

Toward mid-afternoon the sky began to cloud as though for a

storm.Theyhadbeenrestingbeneathalargeoak,theirbackstotheroadandhidden from thepassing traffic.Aclean sweepof land layvisible before them, so they had noticed immediately the comingchange.

“Don’tworry,princess,”Axlsaid.“We’llstaydrybeneaththistreeuntilthesunreturns.”

But Beatrice was on her feet, leaning forward, a hand raised toshieldhereyes.“Icansee theroadaheadcurving into thedistance,Axl.And I see it’s not far to the old villa. I took shelter there oncebeforewhen I camewith thewomen.A ruin, but the roofwas stillgoodthen.”

“Canwereachitbeforethestormbreaks,princess?”

“We’llreachitifwegonow.”

“Then let’s hurry. There’s no reason to catch our deaths from adrenching.Andthistree,nowI’mlookingatit,isfullofholesthewayIcanseemostoftheskyaboveme.”

TheruinedvillawasfurtherfromtheroadthanBeatriceremembered.With the firstdropsof rainandtheskydarkeningabove them, theyfoundthemselvesstrugglingdownalongnarrowpathwaisthighwithnettles throughwhich they had to beat their waywith their sticks.Though it had been clearly visible from the road, the ruin wasobscuredformuchofthisapproachbytreesandfoliage,sothatitwaswith a start, as well as relief, that the travellers suddenly foundthemselvesbeforeit.

ThevillamusthavebeensplendidenoughinRomandays,butnowonly a small section was standing. Once magnificent floors layexposed to the elements, disfigured by stagnant puddles,weeds andgrasssproutingthroughthefadedtiles.Theremainsofwalls,inplacesbarelyanklehigh,revealedtheoldlayoutoftherooms.Astonearchledintothesurvivingpartofthebuilding,andAxlandBeatricenowmoved cautiously towards it, pausing at the threshold to listen.EventuallyAxlcalledout:“Isanyonewithin?”Andwhentherewasnoreply:“We’retwoelderlyBritonsseekingshelterfromthestorm.Wecomeinpeace.”

Still there was silence and they went in under the arch into the

shadeofwhatmustoncehavebeenacorridor.Theyemergedintothegrey light of a spacious room, though here too, an entire wall hadfallen away. The adjoining room had disappeared altogether, andevergreenswerepressing inoppressively rightup to theedgeof thefloor. The three standingwalls, however, provided a sheltered area,with a good ceiling.Here, against the grimymasonry ofwhat oncehadbeenwhitewashedwalls,weretwodarkfigures,onestanding,theothersitting,somedistanceapart.

Seated on a piece of fallen masonry was a small, bird-like oldwoman—older than Axl and Beatrice—in a dark cloak, the hoodpushed back enough to reveal her leathery features. Her eyes weresunkdeepsothatyoucouldhardlyseethem.Thecurveofherbackwasnotquitetouchingthewallbehindher.SomethingstirredonherlapandAxlsawitwasarabbit,heldtightlyinherbonyhands.

Atthefurthestpointalongthesamewall,asthoughhehadmovedasfarfromtheoldwomanaspossiblewhilekeepingundercover,wasa thin, unusually tallman.Hewore a thick long coat of the sort ashepherdmightwearduringacoldnight’swatch,butwhereitended,the exposed lower parts of his legswere bare.Onhis feetwere thekindofshoesAxlhadseenonfishermen.Thoughhewasprobablystillyoung, the top of his head was smoothly bald, while dark tuftssproutedaroundhisears.Themanwas standingrigidly,hisback tothe room, one hand on the wall before him as though listeningintentlytosomethingoccurringontheotherside.Heglancedoverhisshoulder as Axl and Beatrice came in, but said nothing. The oldwoman toowas staring at them in silence and onlywhenAxl said:“Peace be with you,” did they unfreeze a little. The tall man said:“Comeinfurther,friends,oryouwillnotstaydry.”

Sure enough, the sky had truly opened now and rainwater wasrunningdownsomesectionofbrokenroofandsplashingonthefloornearwherethevisitorswerestanding.Thankinghim,Axlledhiswifeto thewall, choosinga spotmidwaybetween theirhosts.HehelpedBeatricetakeoffherbundle,thenputhisowndownontotheground.

Thenthe fourof themremained like that forsometimewhile thestormgrewevermorefierce,andaflashoflightningilluminatedtheshelter.TheoddlyfrozenstancesofthetallmanandtheoldwomanseemedtocastaspellonAxlandBeatrice,fornowtheytooremainedas still and silent. It was almost as if, coming across a picture and

steppinginsideit,theyhadbeencompelledtobecomepaintedfiguresintheirturn.

Then as the downpour settled to a steady fall, the bird-like oldwoman finally broke the silence. Strokingher rabbitwith onehandwhileclutchingittightlyintheother,shesaid:

“God be with you, cousins. You’ll forgive me not greeting youearlier, but I was surprised to see you here. You’ll know you’rewelcomenonetheless.Afinedayfortravellinguntilthisstormcame.Butit’sthekindthatvanishesassuddenlyasitappears.Yourjourneywon’tbelongdelayedandallthebetterforyourtakingarest.Whichwaydoyougo,cousins?”

“We’reonourwaytoourson’svillage,”Axlsaid,“wherehewaitsanxiously to welcome us. But tonight we’ll seek shelter at a Saxonvillagewehopetoreachbynightfall.”

“Saxons have their wild ways,” the old woman said. “But they’llwelcome a travellermore readily than do our own kind. Be seated,cousins.ThatlogbehindyouisdryandI’veoftensatcontentedlyonit.”

AxlandBeatricedidassuggested,andthentherewassilenceforafew further moments while the rain continued to beat down.EventuallyamovementfromtheoldwomanmadeAxlglancetowardsher. She was pulling back the rabbit’s ears, and as the animalstruggledtofreeitself,herclaw-likehandkept it firmlyinitsgrasp.Then,asAxlwatched, theoldwomanproduced inherotherhandalarge rusted knife and placed it against the creature’s throat. AsBeatricebesidehimstarted,Axlrealisedthatthedarkpatchesbeneaththeir feet, and elsewhere all over the ruined floor, were oldbloodstains, and that mingled with the smell of ivy and dampmoulderingstonewasanotherfaintbutlingeringoneofslaughter.

Having placed her knife to the rabbit’s throat, the old womanbecamequitestillagain.Hersunkeneyes,Axlrealised,werefixedonthetallmanatthefarendofthewall,asthoughshewerewaitingforasignalfromhim.Butthemanremainedinthesamerigidpostureasbefore, his forehead almost touching the wall. He either had notnoticedtheoldwomanorelsewasdeterminedtoignoreher.

“Goodmistress,”Axlsaid,“killtherabbitifyoumust.Butbreakitsneckcleanly.Orelsetakeastoneandgiveitagoodblow.”

“Had I the strength, sir, but I’m tooweak. I have a knifewith asharpedgeandthatisall.”

“ThenI’llgladlyassistyou.There’snoneedforyourknife.”Axlrosetohisfeet,holdingouthishand,buttheoldwomanmadenomovetogiveup the rabbit. She remainedexactlyasbefore, theknifeon theanimal’sthroat,hergazefixedonthemanacrosstheroom.

Atlastthetallmanturnedtofacethem.“Friends,”hesaid,“Iwassurprisedtoseeyouenterearlier,butnowI’mglad.ForIseeyou’regood people, and I beg you,while youwait for this storm to pass,listen to my plight. I’m a humble boatman who ferries travellersacross choppy waters. I don’t mind the work though the hours arelongandwhentherearemanywaitingtocrossthere’slittlesleepandmy limbsachewitheach thrustof theoar. Iwork throughrainandwind and under the parching sun. But I keepmy spirits up lookingforwardtomyrestdays.ForI’mbutoneofseveralboatmenandwe’reeachabletotakeourturntorest,ifonlyafterlongweeksoflabour.Onourrestdays,weeachhaveaspecialplacetogo,andthis,friends,ismine.Thishousewhere Iwasonce a carefree child. It’s not as itoncewas,but forme it’s filledwithpreciousmemories, and I comehere asking only the quiet to enjoy them. Now consider this.WheneverIcomehere,withinanhourofmyarrival,thisoldwomanwillenterthroughthatarch.She’llsitherselfdownandtauntmehourby hour, night and day. She’ll make cruel and unjust accusations.Under cover of dark, she’ll cursemewith themost horrible curses.Shewillnotgivemeamoment’srespite.Sometimes,asyousee,she’llbringwithherarabbit,orsomesuchsmallcreature,soshecanslayitandpollute thispreciousplacewith itsblood. I’vedoneall I can topersuadehertoleaveme,butwhatpityGodplacedinhersoul,shehaslearnttoignore.Shewillnotgo,norwillsheceasetotaunt.Evennowit’sonlyyourunexpectedentrancethathascausedhertopausein her persecution. And before long it will be time to begin myjourneyback,tomorelongweeksoftoilonthewater.Friends,Ibegyou, do what you can to make her leave. Persuade her that herbehaviour isungodly.Youmayhave influenceonher,beingasyouarefromtheoutside.”

There was a silence after the boatman stopped talking. Axlremembered later feeling a vague compulsion to reply, but at thesame timea sense that themanhad spoken tohim in adreamand

thattherewasnorealobligationtodoso.Beatricetooseemedtofeelnourgetorespond,forhereyesremainedontheoldwoman,whohadnowtakentheknifeawayfromtherabbit’s throat,andwasstrokingits fur, almost affectionately,with the edgeof theblade. EventuallyBeatricesaid:

“Mistress, Ibegyou,allowmyhusbandtoassistwithyourrabbit.There’snocalltospillbloodinaplacesuchasthis,andnobasintocatchit.You’llbringbadlucknotonlytothishonestboatmanbuttoyourselfandallothertravellerswhostrayinhereseekingshelter.Putthat knife away and slaughter the creature gently elsewhere. Andwhatgoodcancomeoftauntingthismanasyoudo,ahard-workingboatman?”

“Let’snotbehastytospeakharshlytothislady,princess,”Axlsaidgently.“Wedon’tknowwhathasoccurredbetweenthesepeople.Thisboatmanseemshonest,butthenagain,thisladymayhavejustcausetocomehereandspendhertimeasshedoes.”

“You couldn’t have spokenmore aptly, sir,” the oldwoman said.“DoIthinkthisacharmingwaytospendmyfadingdays?I’dratherbefarfromhere,inthecompanyofmyownhusband,andit’sbecauseof this boatman I’m nowparted fromhim.My husbandwas awiseand careful man, sir, and we planned our journey for a long time,talkedof it anddreamtof itovermanyyears.Andwhen finallywewereready,andhadallweneeded,wesetoffontheroadandafterseveraldaysfoundthecovefromwherewecouldcrosstotheisland.We waited for the ferryman, and in time, saw his boat comingtowardsus.Butasluckwouldhaveit,itwasthisverymanherewhocame to us. See how tall he is. Standing on his boat on thewater,againsttheskywithhislongoar,helookedastallandthinasthoseplayers dowhen they hobble on their stilts. He came towheremyhusbandand Iwerestandingon therocksand tiedhisboat.And tothisdayIdon’tknowhowhedidit,butsomehowhetrickedus.Weweretootrusting.Withtheislandsonear,thisboatmantookawaymyhusbandandleftmewaitingontheshore,afterfortyyearsandmoreofourbeinghusbandandwifeandhardlyadayapart. Ican’t thinkhowhedidit.Hisvoicemusthaveputusinadream,becausebeforeIknewithewasrowingoffwithmyhusbandandIwasstillonland.Eventhen,Ididn’tbelieveit.Forwhocouldsuspectsuchcrueltyfroma boatman? So I waited. I said to myself, it’s simply that the boat

cannot take more than one passenger at a time, for the water wasunsettled that day, and the sky almost as dark as it is now. I stoodthere on the rock andwatched the boat getting smaller and then aspeck.AndstillIwaited,andintimethespeckgrewlargeranditwastheboatmancomingbacktome.Icouldsoonseehisheadassmoothasapebble,nowwithnopassengerleftinhisboat.AndIimagineditwasmyturnandIwouldsoonbewithmybelovedagain.Butwhenhe came to where I was waiting, and tied his rope to the pole, heshookhisheadandrefusedtotakemeacross.Iarguedandweptandcalled tohim,buthewouldnot listen. Insteadheofferedme—suchcruelty!—heofferedarabbithesaidhadbeencaughtinatrapontheisland’sshore.He’dbroughtittomethinkingitafittingsupperformyfirsteveningofsolitude.Thenseeingtherewasnooneelsewaitingtobeferried,hepushedaway,leavingmeweepingontheshore,holdinghiswretchedrabbit. I let it runoff intotheheatheramoment later,for I tellyou Ihad littleappetite thateveningor formanyeveningsafter.That’swhyitisIbringhimmyownlittlegifteachtimeIcomehere.Arabbitforhisstewinreturnforhiskindnessthatday.”

“The rabbit was intended for my own supper that evening,” theboatman’svoicebrokeinfromacrosstheroom.“Feelingpity,Igaveittoher.Itwassimplekindness.”

“Weknownothingofyouraffairs, sir,”Beatrice said. “But itdoesseemacrueldeceptiontoleavethisladyaloneontheshorethatway.Whatwasitmadeyoudosuchathing?”

“Goodlady,theislandthisoldwomanspeaksofisnoordinaryone.We boatmen have ferried many there over the years, and by nowtherewillbehundredsinhabitingitsfieldsandwoods.Butit’saplaceof strange qualities, and onewho arrives therewillwalk among itsgreeneryandtreesinsolitude,neverseeinganothersoul.Occasionallyonamoonlitnightorwhenastorm’sreadytobreak,hemaysensethepresenceofhis fellow inhabitants.Butmostdays, foreach traveller,it’sasthoughhe’stheisland’sonlyresident. I’dhappilyhaveferriedthis woman, but when she understood she wouldn’t be with herhusband,shedeclaredshedidn’tcareforsuchsolitudeandrefusedtogo.Ibowedtoherdecision,asI’mobligedtodo,andlethergoherownway.Therabbit,asIsay,Igaveheroutofsimplekindness.Youseehowshethanksmeforit.”

“This boatman is a sly one,” the old woman said. “He’ll dare to

deceive you, even though you’re from the outside. He’ll have youbelieve every soul roams that island in solitude, but it isn’t true.WouldmyhusbandandIhavedreamtlongyearstogotoaplacelikethat? The truth is there’s many permitted to cross the water aswedded man and wife to dwell together on the island. Many whoroamthosesameforestsandquietbeachesarminarm.MyhusbandandIknewthis.Weknewitaschildren.Goodcousins,ifyousearchthroughyourownmemories,you’llrememberittobetrueevenasIspeakofitnow.Wehadlittleinklingaswewaitedinthatcovehowcruelaboatmanwouldcomeoverthewatertous.”

“There’struthinjustonepartofwhatshesays,”theboatmansaid.“Occasionally a couple may be permitted to cross to the islandtogether,butthisisrare.Itrequiresanunusuallystrongbondoflovebetweenthem.Itdoessometimesoccur,Idon’tdeny,andthat’swhywhenwefindamanandwife,orevenunmarriedlovers,waitingtobecarriedover,it’sourdutytoquestionthemcarefully.Foritfallstoustoperceiveiftheirbondisstrongenoughtocrosstogether.Thisladyis reluctant toaccept it, butherbondwithherhusbandwas simplytooweak. Let her look into her heart, then dare saymy judgementthatdaywasinerror.”

“Mistress,”Beatricesaid.“Whatdoyousay?”

The old woman remained silent. She kept her eyes lowered, andwentonrunningthebladesulkilyovertherabbit’sfur.

“Mistress,”Axlsaid,“oncetherainstops,we’llbereturningtotheroad.Whynot leave thisplacewithus?We’ll gladlywalkwithyousome of yourway.We could talk at leisure aboutwhatever pleasesyou.Leavethisgoodboatmaninpeacetoenjoywhatremainsofthishousewhileitstands.What’stobegainedsittingherelikethis?Andifyouwishit,I’llkilltherabbitcleanlybeforeourpathspart.Whatdoyousay?”

Theoldwomangavenoreply,noranyindicationofhavingheardAxl’swords.After some time, she rose slowly toher feet, the rabbitheldcloselytoherchest.Thewomanwastinyinstatureandhercloakdraggedalongthefloorasshemadeherwaytothebrokensideoftheroom.Somewatersplashedontoherfromasectionoftheceiling,butshe seemed not to care. When she had reached the far end of thefloor,shelookedoutattherainandtheencroachinggreenery.Thenbending slowly, she set the rabbit down near her feet. The animal,

perhapsstiffwithfear,didnotmoveatfirst.Thenitvanishedintothegrass.

Theoldwomanstraightenedherselfcarefully.Whensheturnedsheappeared to be looking at the boatman—her strangely sunken eyesmade it hard to be certain—then said: “These strangers have takenawaymyappetite.Butitwillreturn,I’venodoubt.”

Withthatsheliftedthehemofhercloakandsteppedslowlydownintothegrasslikeoneeasingherselfintoapool.Therainfellonhersteadily,andshepulledherhoodfurtheroverherheadbeforetakinghernextstepsintothetallnettles.

“Waitafewmomentsandwe’llwalkwithyou,”Axlcalledafterher.Buthe feltBeatrice’shandonhisarmandheardherwhisper: “Bestnotmeddlewithher,Axl.Lethergo.”

WhenAxlwalkedovertowheretheoldwomanhadsteppeddown,hehalf expected to seeher somewhere, impededby the foliage andunabletogoon.Buttherewasnownosignofher.

“Thank you, friends,” the boatman said behind him. “Perhaps forthisdayatleast,Ishallbeallowedpeacetoremembermychildhood.”

“Wetoowillbeoutofyourway,boatman,”saidAxl.“Justassoonasthisletsup.”

“Nohurry,friends.YouspokejudiciouslyandIthankyouforit.”

Axlwentonstaringattherain.Heheardhiswifesaybehindhim:“Thismustoncehavebeenasplendidhouse,sir.”

“Oh, itwas,goodlady.WhenIwasaboy,Ididn’tknowjusthowsplendid,foritwasallIknew.Therewerefinepicturesandtreasures,kindandwiseservants.Justthroughtherewasthebanquetinghall.”

“Itmustsaddenyoutoseeitlikethis,sir.”

“I’m simply grateful, good lady, it still stands as it does. For thishousehaswitnesseddaysofwar,whenmanyotherslikeitwereburntto the ground and are nomore now than amound or two beneathgrassandheather.”

Then Axl heard Beatrice’s footsteps coming towards him and felther hand on his shoulder. “What is it, Axl?” she asked, her voicelowered.“You’retroubled,Icanseeit.”

“It’snothing,princess.It’sjustthisruinhere.ForamomentitwasasifIweretheonerememberingthingshere.”

“Whatmannerofthings,Axl?”

“Idon’tknow,princess.Whenthemanspeaksofwarsandburninghouses, it’salmostasifsomethingcomesbacktome.FromthedaysbeforeIknewyou,itmustbe.”

“Was there ever a time before we knew one another, Axl?SometimesIfeelwemusthavebeentogethersincewewerebabes.”

“It seems that way tome too, princess. It’s just some foolishnesscomingovermeinthisstrangeplace.”

Shewas lookingathim thoughtfully.Then she squeezedhishandandsaidquietly:“Thisisaqueerplaceindeedandmaybringusmoreharmthantherainevercould.I’manxioustoleaveit,Axl.Beforethatwomanreturnsorsomethingworse.”

Axl nodded. Then turning, he called across the room: “Well,boatman, thesky looks tobeclearingsowe’llbeonourway.Manythanksforallowingusshelter.”

Theboatmansaidnothingtothis,butastheywereputtingontheirbundles,he came to assist them,handing them theirwalking sticks.“A safe journey, friends,” he said. “May you find your son in goodhealth.”

They thanked him again, and were proceeding through the archwhenBeatricesuddenlystoppedandlookedback.

“Sincewe’re leaving you, sir,” she said, “andmay notmeetwithyouagain,Iwonderifyou’llallowmeasmallquestion.”

The boatman, standing at his spot by thewall,waswatching hercarefully.

“Youspokeearlier,sir,”Beatricewenton,“ofyourdutytoquestionacouplewaitingtocrossthewater.Youspokeoftheneedtodiscoveriftheirbondofloveissuchastoallowthemtodwelltogetherontheisland.Well,sir,Iwaswonderingthis.Howdoyouquestionthemtodiscoverwhatyoumust?”

For a moment the boatman seemed uncertain. Then he said:“Frankly,goodlady,it’snotformetotalkofsuchmatters.Indeed,weshouldn’tbyrightshavemettoday,butsomecuriouschancebrought

ustogetherandI’mnotsorryforit.YouwerebothkindandtookmypartandforthatI’mgrateful.SoIwillansweryouasbestIcan.Itis,asyousay,mydutytoquestionallwhowishtocrosstotheisland.Ifit’sacouplesuchasyouspeakof,whoclaimtheirbondissostrong,thenImustaskthemtoputtheirmostcherishedmemoriesbeforeme.I’llaskone,thentheothertodothis.Eachmustspeakseparately.Inthiswaytherealnatureoftheirbondissoonrevealed.”

“But isn’t it hard, sir,” Beatrice asked, “to see what truly lies inpeople’shearts?Appearancesdeceivesoeasily.”

“That’s true, good lady, but thenweboatmenhave seen somanyover the years it doesn’t take us long to see beyond deceptions.Besides,whentravellersspeakoftheirmostcherishedmemories, it’simpossible for themtodisguise the truth.Acouplemayclaim tobebondedbylove,butweboatmenmayseeinsteadresentment,anger,evenhatred.Oragreatbarrenness.Sometimesafearoflonelinessandnothingmore.Abiding lovethathasenduredtheyears—thatweseeonly rarely. When we do, we’re only too glad to ferry the coupletogether.Goodlady,I’vealreadysaidmorethanIshould.”

“I thank you for it, boatman. It’s just to satisfy an old woman’scuriosity.Nowwe’llleaveyouinpeace.”

“Mayyouhaveasafejourney.”

They retraced their steps along the path they had beaten earlierthrough the ferns and nettles. The storm had made the groundunderneathtreacherous,soforalltheiranxietytoputthevillabehindthem,theyproceededatacarefulpace.Whentheyfinallyreachedthesunkenlane,therainstillhadnotceased,andtheytookshelterunderthefirstlargetreetheycouldfind.

“Areyousoakedthrough,princess?”

“Don’tworry,Axl.Thiscoatdiditswork.Howisitwithyou?”

“Nothingthesunwon’tsoondrywhenitreturns.”

Theyputdowntheirbundlesandleantagainstthetrunk,recoveringtheirbreaths.Afterawhile,Beatricesaidquietly:

“Axl,Ifeelafraid.”

“Why,whatisit,princess?Noharmcancometoyounow.”

“Doyourememberthestrangewomanindarkragsyouwatchedmetalkingtoupbytheoldthornthatday?Shemayhavelookedamadwanderer,but the story she toldhadmuch incommonwith theoldwoman’sjustnow.Herhusbandtoohadbeentakenbyaboatmanandsheleftbehindontheshore.Andwhenshewascomingbackfromthecove,weepingforloneliness,shefoundherselfcrossingtheedgeofahighvalley,andshecouldseethepathalongwaybeforeandalongway behind, and all along it people weeping just like her. When IheardthisIwasonlypartlyafraid,sayingtomyselfitwasnothingtodowithus,Axl.Butshewentonspeaking,abouthowthis landhadbecomecursedwith amist of forgetfulness, a thingwe’ve remarkedonoftenenoughourselves.Andthensheaskedme:‘Howwillyouandyour husband prove your love for each other when you can’tremember the past you’ve shared?’ And I’ve been thinking about iteversince.SometimesIthinkofitanditmakesmesoafraid.”

“But what’s to fear, princess? We’ve no plans to go to any suchislandoranydesiretodoso.”

“Evenso,Axl.Whatifourlovewithersbeforewe’veachanceeventothinkofgoingtosuchaplace?”

“Whatareyousaying,princess?Howcanour lovewither? Isn’t itstrongernowthanwhenwewerefoolishyounglovers?”

“ButAxl,wecan’tevenrememberthosedays.Oranyoftheyearsbetween. We don’t remember our fierce quarrels or the smallmomentswe enjoyed and treasured.Wedon’t remember our sonorwhyhe’sawayfromus.”

“Wecanmakeallthosememoriescomeback,princess.Besides,thefeelinginmyheartforyouwillbetherejustthesame,nomatterwhatIrememberorforget.Don’tyoufeelthesame,princess?”

“I do,Axl. But then again Iwonder ifwhatwe feel in ourheartstoday isn’t like these raindrops still falling on us from the soakedleaves above, even though the sky itself long stopped raining. I’mwonderingifwithoutourmemories,there’snothingforitbutforourlovetofadeanddie.”

“Godwouldn’tallowsucha thing,princess.”Axl said thisquietly,almost under his breath, for he had himself felt an unnamed fearwellingupwithinhim.

“The day I spokewith her by the old thorn,” Beatrice continued,“thestrangewomanwarnedmetowastenomoretime.Shesaidwehadtodoallwecouldtorememberwhatwe’veshared,thegoodandthe bad. And now that boatman, when we were leaving, gives theveryanswerIexpectedandfeared.Whatchancedowehave,Axl,thewaywearenow?Ifsomeonelikethataskedofusourmosttreasuredmemories?Axl,I’msoafraid.”

“There,princess,there’snothingtofear.Ourmemoriesaren’tgonefor ever, just mislaid somewhere on account of this wretchedmist.We’llfindthemagain,onebyoneifwehaveto.Isn’tthatwhywe’reon this journey?Onceourson’s standingbeforeus,manythingsaresuretostartcomingback.”

“I hope so. That boatman’s words have made me all the moreafraid.”

“Forgethim,princess.Whatdowewantwithhisboat,orhisislandcometothat?Andyou’reright,therain’sstoppedoutthereandwe’llbedriersteppingoutfromunderthistree.Let’sbeonourway,andnomoreoftheseworries.”

ChapterThree

TheSaxonvillage,viewedfromadistanceandacertainheight,wouldhavebeensomethingmorefamiliartoyouasa“village”thanAxlandBeatrice’swarren.Forone thing—perhapsbecause theSaxonshadakeener sense of claustrophobia—therewas none of this digging intothehillside. Ifyouwerecomingdown the steepvalley slope,asAxlandBeatricewerethatevening,youwouldhaveseenbelowyousomeforty ormore individual houses, laid out on the valley floor in tworoughcircles,onewithintheother.Youmighthavebeentoofarawayto notice the variations in size and splendour, but youwould havemade out the thatched roofs, and the fact that many were“roundhouses” not so far removed from the kind inwhich some ofyou, or perhaps your parents, were brought up. And if the Saxonswerehappy to sacrifice a little security for the benefits of open air,theywerecarefultocompensate:atallfenceoftetheredtimberpoles,their points sharpened like giant pencils, completely encircled thevillage. At any given point, the fence was at least twice a man’sheight, and tomake the prospect of scaling it even less enticing, adeeptrenchfolloweditallthewayaroundtheoutside.

ThatwouldhavebeenthepictureAxlandBeatricesawbelowthemas theypaused to catch theirbreathsduring theirdescentdown thehill.Thesunwassettingoverthevalleynow,andBeatrice,whohadthebettersight,wasoncemoreleaningforward,asteportwoinfrontofAxl,thegrassanddandelionsaroundherastallasherwaist.

“I can see four, no fivemen guarding the gate,” she was saying.“And I think they’re holding spears.When Iwas last herewith thewomen, it was nothing more than one gate-keeper with a pair ofdogs.”

“Areyousurethere’llbeawelcomehereforus,princess?”

“Don’tworry,Axl,theyknowmewellenoughbynow.Besides,oneoftheireldershereisaBriton,regardedbyallasawiseleaderevenifhe’snotoftheirblood.He’llseetoitwehaveasaferooftonight.Evenso, Axl, I think something’s happened and I’m uneasy. Now here’sanother man with a spear arrived, and that’s a pack of fierce dogs

withhim.”

“Who knows what goes on with Saxons,” said Axl. “We may bebetterseekingshelterelsewheretonight.”

“Thedarkwillbesoononus,Axl,andthosespearsarenotintendedforus.Besides,there’sawomaninthisvillageIwaswantingtovisit,onewhoknowshermedicinesbeyondanyoneinourown.”

Axlwaitedforhertosaysomethingfurther,andwhenshewentonpeering into the distance, he asked: “And why would you be aftermedicines,princess?”

“A small discomfort I feel from time to time. This womanmightknowofsomethingtosootheit.”

“Whatsortofdiscomfort,princess?Wheredoesittroubleyou?”

“It’s nothing. It’s only because we’re needing to shelter here I’mthinkingofitatall.”

“Butwheredoesitlie,princess?Thispain?”

“Oh…”Withoutturningtohim,shepressedahandtoherside,justbelow the ribcage, then laughed. “It’s nothing to speak of. You cansee,ithasn’tslowedmewalkingheretoday.”

“Ithasn’tslowedyouonebit,princess,andI’vebeentheonehavingtobegwestopandrest.”

“That’swhatI’msaying,Axl.Soit’snothingtoworryabout.”

“Ithasn’tslowedyoudownatall.Infact,princess,youmustbeasstrongasanywomanhalfyourage.Still, if there’s someonehere tohelpwithyourpain,what’stheharmingoingtoher?”

“That’s all Iwas saying, Axl. I’ve brought a little tin to trade formedicines.”

“Whowants these littlepains?Weallhave them,andwe’dallberidofthemifwecould.Byallmeans,let’sgotothiswomanifshe’shere,andthoseguardsletuspass.”

It was nearly dark by the time they crossed the bridge over thetrench,andtorcheshadbeenlitoneithersideofthegate.Theguardswerelargeandburlybutlookedpanickedbytheirapproach.

“Waitamoment,Axl,”Beatricesaidquietly.“I’llgoalonetospeak

withthem.”

“Don’tgoneartheirspears,princess.ThedogslookcalmbutthoseSaxonslookfoolishwithfear.”

“Ifit’syoutheyfear,Axl,oldmanthatyouare,I’llsoonshowthemtheirgreaterror.”

Shewalkedtowardsthemboldly.Themengatheredaroundherandas she addressed them they threw suspicious glances towards Axl.Thenoneofthemcalledtohim,intheSaxonlanguage,tostepcloserto the torches, presumably so they could see hewas not a youngerman indisguise.Thenaftera fewmoreexchangeswithBeatrice themenallowedthemthrough.

Axlwaspuzzledthatavillagewhichfromadistancelookedtobetwo orderly rings of houses could turn out to be such a chaoticlabyrinth now they were walking through its narrow lanes.Admittedlythelightwasfading,butashefollowedBeatrice,hecoulddiscern no logic or pattern to the place. Buildings would loomunexpectedly in frontof them,blocking theirwayand forcing themdownbafflingsidealleys.Theywereobliged,moreover,towalkwithevenmore caution than out on the roads: not onlywas the groundpittedandfullofpuddlesfromtheearlierstorm,theSaxonsseemedtofinditacceptabletoleaverandomobjects,evenpiecesofrubble,lyinginthemiddleofthepath.ButwhattroubledAxlmostwastheodourthatgrewstrongerandfainterastheywalked,butneverwentaway.Like anyone of his time, he was well reconciled to the smell ofexcrement,humanoranimal,butthiswassomethingaltogethermoreoffensive. Before long he had determined its source: all over thevillagepeoplehad leftout,onthe frontsofhousesoronthesideofthestreet,pilesofputrefyingmeatasofferingstotheirvariousgods.Atonepoint,startledbyaparticularlystrongassault,Axlhadturnedtosee,suspendedfromtheeavesofahut,adarkobjectwhoseshapechangedbeforehiseyesasthecolonyoffliesperchedonitdispersed.Amomentlatertheyencounteredapigbeingdraggedbyitsearsbyagroupofchildren;dogs,cowsanddonkeysundernoone’ssupervision.The few people they met stared silently at them, or else quicklyvanishedbehindadoororshutter.

“There’s something strange here tonight,” Beatrice whispered asthey walked. “Usually they’d be sitting in front of their houses orperhaps gathered in circles laughing and talking. And the children

would be following us by now asking a hundred questions andwondering if to call us names or be our friends. Everything’s eerilystillanditmakesmeuneasy.”

“Arewelost,princess,orarewestillgoingtowardtheplacethey’llbeshelteringus?”

“I’dbeenthinkingwe’dvisit first thewomanaboutthemedicines.Butwiththingsthewaytheyare,wemaybebettergoingstraighttotheoldlonghouseandkeepingoutofharm’sway.”

“Arewefarfromthemedicinelady’shouse?”

“AsIrememberit,notfaratallnow.”

“Thenlet’sseeifshe’sthere.Evenifyourpain’satrivialthing,asweknowittobe,there’snosenseinfeelingitatallifitcanbetakenaway.”

“Itcanwait till themorning,Axl. It’snotevenapain Inotice tillwe’respeakingofit.”

“Even so, princess, nowwe’re here,why not go and see thewisewoman?”

“We’ll do so if you particularly wish it, Axl. Though I’d havehappily left it for themorning ormaybe the next time I’m passingthroughthisplace.”

Evenastheyweretalking,theyturnedacornerintowhatappearedtobethevillagesquare.Therewasabonfireblazingatitscentre,andall around it, illuminated by its light, a large crowd. There wereSaxonsofallages,eventinychildrenintheirparents’arms,andAxl’sfirstthoughtwasthattheyhadstumbleduponapaganceremony.Butastheystoppedtoconsiderthescenebeforethem,hesawtherewasnofocustothecrowd’sattention.Thefaceshecouldseeweresolemn,perhaps frightened. Voices were lowered, and collectively camethrough the air as a worried murmur. A dog barked at Axl andBeatrice andwas promptly chased away by shadowy figures. Thoseamong the crowdwho noticed the visitors stared theirway blanklybeforelosinginterest.

“Who knows what concerns them here, Axl,” Beatrice said. “I’dwalk away except themedicinewoman’s house is somewhere near.LetmeseeifIcanstillfindmywaytoit.”

As theymoved towards a rowofhuts to their right, theybecameaware of many more people in the shadows, silently watching thecrowd around the fire. Beatrice stopped to talk to one of them, awoman standing in front of her own door, and after a while Axlrealised thiswas themedicinewomanherself.He couldnot seeherwellinthenear-darkness,butmadeoutthestraight-backedfigureofatallwoman,probably inhermiddleyears, clutchinga shawlaroundherarmsandshoulders.SheandBeatricewentonconferring inlowvoices, sometimes glancing towards the crowd, sometimes at Axl.Eventually the woman gestured for them to enter her hut, butBeatrice,cominguptohim,saidsoftly:

“Letmespeakwithheralone,Axl.Helpmetakeoffthisbundleandwaitouthereforme.”

“Can’t I be with you, princess, even if I hardly understand thisSaxontongue?”

“Thesearewomen’smatters,husband.Letmetalkwithheralone,andshe’ssayingshe’llexaminemyoldbodycarefully.”

“I’m sorry, princess, I wasn’t thinking clearly. Let me take yourbundlefromyouandI’llbewaitinghereaslongasyouwish.”

After the twowomenhad gone inside,Axl felt a greatweariness,especially in his shoulders and legs. Removing his own burden, heleanedagainsttheturfwallbehindhimandgazedoveratthecrowd.Therewasnowagrowingrestlessness:peoplewouldstride fromthedarkness around him to join the crowd while others hurried awayfrom the fire, only to return amoment later. The blaze illuminatedsomefacessharply,whileleavingothersinshadow,butafteratime,Axlcametotheconclusionthesepeoplewereallwaiting,inastateofsomeanxiety, for someoneor something to emerge from the timberhalltotheleftofthefire.Thisbuilding,probablysomemeetingplacefortheSaxons,musthavehadafireofitsownburninginside,foritswindowsflickeredbetweenblacknessandlight.

He was on the verge of nodding off, his back to the wall, themuffled voices of Beatrice and the medicine woman somewherebehind him, when the crowd surged and shifted, letting out a softcollectivegrowl.Severalmenhademergedfromthetimberhallandwerewalking towards the fire. The crowdparted and quietened forthem,asthoughinexpectationofanannouncement,butnonecame,

and soon people were pressing around the newcomers, their voicesbuildingagain.Axlnoticedthatattentionwasfocusedalmostentirelyonthemanwhohadcomeoutlastfromthehall.Hewasprobablynomorethanthirtybuthadabouthimanaturalauthority.Althoughhewasdressedsimply,asafarmermightbe,hedidnotlooklikeanyoneelseinthevillage.Itwasnotjustthewayhehadswepthiscloakoveroneshoulder,revealinghisbeltandthehandleofhissword.Norwasitsimplythathishairwaslongerthananyofthevillagers’—ithungalmostdowntohisshouldersandhehadtiedsomeofitwithathongto prevent it swaying over his eyes. In fact the actual thought thatcrossedAxl’smindwasthatthismanhadtiedhishairtostopitfallingacrosshis visionduringcombat. This thought had come toAxl quitenaturally,andonlyonreflectiondiditstartlehim,forithadcarriedwith it an element of recognition. Moreover, when the stranger,stridingintothemidstofthecrowd,allowedhishandtofallandrestontheswordhandle,Axlhadfelt,almosttangibly,thepeculiarmixofcomfort, excitement and fear such amovement could bring. Tellinghimself he would return to these curious sensations at some laterpoint, he shut them out of hismind and concentrated on the sceneunfoldingbeforehim.

Itwasthebearingoftheman,thewayhemovedandheldhimself,thatsosethimapartfromthosearoundhim.“NomatterthathetriestopasshimselfoffasanordinarySaxon,”Axlthought,“thismanisawarrior.Andperhapsonecapableofwreakinggreatdevastationwhenhewishesit.”

Two of the other men who had emerged from the hall werehovering nervously behind him, and whenever the warrior driftedfurtherintothecrowd,bothmentriedtheirbesttostaynearhim,likechildrenanxiousnottobeleftbehindbyaparent.Thetwomen,whowere both young, also wore swords, and in addition, each wasclutchingaspear,butitwasevidenttheywerequiteunaccustomedtosuch weapons. They were, moreover, stiff with fear and seemedunable to respond to the words of encouragement their fellowvillagersweregivingthem.Theirgazesdartedaboutinpanicevenashandspattedtheirbacksorsqueezedtheirshoulders.

“The long-haired fellow is a stranger arrivedonly anhouror twobefore us,” Beatrice’s voice said close to his ear. “A Saxon, but onefrom a distant country. The fenlands in the east, so he says, where

he’slatelybeenfightingsearaiders.”

Axlhadbeenawareforsometimethatthevoicesofthewomenhadgrownmoredistinct, and turning, saw thatBeatriceandherhostesshadcomeoutofthehouseandwerestandingatthedoorjustbehindhim.Themedicinewomannowspokesoftly,forsometime,inSaxon,afterwhichBeatricesaidintohisear:

“It seems earlier today one of the village men came back out ofbreathandhisshoulderwounded,andwhenprevailedupontocalmhimself toldofhowheandhisbrother, togetherwithhisnephew,aboyoftwelve,werefishingattheirusualspotbytheriverandweresetuponbytwoogres.Exceptaccordingto thiswoundedmanthesewerenoordinaryogres.Monstrousandabletomovefasterandwithgreatercunningthananyogrehe’deverseen.Thefiends—forit’sbythat name these villagers are talking of them—the fiends killed hisbrother outright and carried off the boy, who was alive andstruggling. The wounded man himself got away only after a longchasealongtheriverpath,thefoulgruntscomingcloserbehindhimallthewhile,butheoutranthemintheend.Thatwouldbehimtherenow,Axl,withthesplintonhisarm,talkingtothestranger.Woundedthoughhewas,hewasanxiousenoughforhisnephewtoleadapartyof thisvillage’sstrongestmenbackto thespot,andtheysawsmokefroma campfire near the bank, and as theywere creepingup to it,their weapons at the ready, the bushes opened and it seems thesesametwofiendshadsetatrap.Themedicinewomansaysthreemenwerekilledevenbeforetheothersthoughttorunfortheirlives,andthough they returned unhurt, most of them are now shivering andmuttering to themselves in their beds, too shaken to come out andwish well these brave men willing to go out now, even with thedarknesscomingandthemistsettingin,todowhatcouldn’tbedonebytwelvestrongmeninbroaddaylight.”

“Dotheyknowtheboyisstillalive?”

“Theyknownothing,but they’llgoout to the riverevenso.Afterthefirstpartyreturnedinterror,foralltheurgingoftheelders,therewasnotasinglemanbraveenoughtojoinafurtherexpedition.Thenas fortunewould have it, here’s this stranger come into the villageseekinganight’sshelterafterhishorsehashurtafoot.Andthoughheknows nothing of this boy or his family before today, he’s declaredhimselfwilling to come to the village’s aid. Those others going out

withhimaretwomoreoftheboy’suncles,andbythelookofthem,I’d say they’re more likely to hinder that warrior than be of help.Look,Axl,they’resickwithfear.”

“I see that right enough, princess. But they’re brave men all thesame,togooutwhenthey’resoafraid.Wechoseabadnighttoaskthisvillage’shospitality.There’sweeping somewhereevennow,andtheremaybeagreatdealmorebeforethenight’spassed.”

ThemedicinewomanseemedtounderstandsomethingofwhatAxlhadsaid,forshespokeagain,inherownlanguage,thenBeatricesaid:“She says to go straight to the old longhouse now and not showourselvesagaintillmorning.Ifwechoosetowanderthevillage,shesaysthere’snotellinghowwemaybegreetedonanightlikethis.”

“Myownthoughtsexactly,princess.Then let’sbe takingthegoodlady’sadvice,ifyoucanstillremembertheway.”

But justat thatmomentthecrowdmadeasuddennoise, thenthenoisebecamecheering,andthecrowdshiftedagain,asifstrugglingtochange shape. Then it began to move, the warrior and his twocompanionsnearitscentre.Alowchantingstartedup,andsoonthespectatorsintheshadows—themedicinewomanincluded—joinedin.Theprocessioncametowardsthem,andthoughthebrightnessofthefirehadbeen left behind, several torchesweremovingwithin it, sothatAxlcouldcatchglimpsesoffaces,somefrightened,someexcited.Whenever a torch illuminated thewarrior, his expressionwas calm,gazingtoleftandrighttoacknowledgewordsofencouragement,hishandoncemoreonthehandleofhissword.TheywentpastAxlandBeatrice, continued between a rowof huts and out of view, thoughthemutedchantingremainedaudibleforsometime.

Perhapsdauntedbytheatmosphere,neitherAxlnorBeatricemovedforawhile.ThenBeatricebegantoquestionthemedicinewomanonthe bestway to reach the longhouse, and it seemed toAxl the twowomen were soon discussing directions to some other destinationaltogether, for they pointed and gestured into the distance towardsthehillsabovethevillage.

They finally set off for their lodgings only when quiet haddescendedoverthevillage.Itwasharderthanevertofindone’swayinthedarkness,andtheoccasionaltorchesburningoncornersseemedonly to increase the confusion with their shadows. They were

proceeding in theoppositedirectionto that inwhichthecrowdhadgone,andthehousestheypassedweredarkwithnoobvioussignsoflife.

“Walkslowly,princess,”Axlsaidsoftly.“Ifeitherofustakesabadtumbleonthisground,I’mnotcertainthere’llbeasoulcomingouttohelpus.”

“Axl, I think we’ve lost our way again. Let’s go back to the lastcornerandthistimeI’llbesuretofindit.”

In time the path straightened and they found themselveswalkingbesidetheperimeterfencetheyhadseenfromthehill.Itssharpenedpoles loomedabove thema shadedarker than thenight sky,andasthey went on, Axl could hear murmured voices somewhere abovethem. Then he saw they were no longer alone: high up along theramparts, at regular intervals, were shapes he realised were peoplegazing out over the fence into the darkwilderness beyond. He hadbarelytimetosharethisobservationwithBeatricebeforetheyheardfootstepsgatheringbehindthem.Theyquickenedtheirpace,butnowatorchwasmovingnearbyandshadowsswungrapidlybeforethem.At first Axl thought they had stumbled upon a group of villagerscomingintheotherdirection,butthensawthatheandBeatricewereentirelysurrounded.Saxonmenofvaryingagesandbuilds,somewithspears, others wielding hoes, scythes and other tools, were jostlingaround them.Severalvoicesaddressed thematonce,andevermorepeopleseemedtobearriving.Axlfelttheheatofthetorchesthrustattheirfaces,andholdingBeatriceclosetohim,triedtolocatewithhisgaze the leader of this group, but could find no such figure. Everyface, moreover, was filled with panic, and he realised any carelessmove could bring disaster.He pulled Beatrice out of the reach of aparticularlywild-eyedyoungmanwhohadraisedatremblingknifeinthe air, and searched his memory for some Saxon phrases. Whennothingcametohim,hemadedowithafewsoothingnoises,suchashemighthavemadetoanunrulyhorse.

“Stop that, Axl,” Beatrice whispered. “They won’t thank you forsinging lullabies to them.” She addressed one, then another of themen in Saxon, but the mood did not improve. Shouted argumentswerebreakingout,andadog, tuggingonarope,broke throughtherankstosnarlatthem.

Thenthetensefiguresaroundthemseemedallatoncetosag.Their

voices quietened till there was only the one, shouting angrily,somewherestillalittlewayoff.Thevoicecamecloserandthecrowdparted to let througha squat,misshapenmanwho shuffled into thepooloflightleaningonathickstaff.

Hewasquiteelderly,and thoughhisbackwas relatively straight,hisneckandheadprotrudedfromhisshouldersatagrotesqueangle.Nonetheless all present appeared to yield to his authority—the dogtoo ceased barking and vanished into the shadows. Even with hislimitedSaxon,Axlcouldtellthemisshapenman’sfuryhadonlypartlyto do with the villagers’ treatment of strangers: they were beingreprimandedforabandoningtheirsentryposts,andthe facescaughtin the torchlight became crestfallen, though filled with confusion.Thenastheelder’svoicerosetoanewlevelofanger,themenseemedslowlytoremembersomething,andonebyoneslippedbackintothenight. But even when the last of them had gone, and there weresounds of feet clambering up ladders, the misshapen man went onhurlinginsultsafterthem.

Finally he turned to Axl and Beatrice, and switching to theirlanguage,saidwithnotraceofanaccent:“Howcanitbetheyforgeteven this, and so soonafterwatching thewarrior leavewith twooftheirowncousinstodowhatnoneofthemhadthecouragefor?Isitshamemakestheirmemoriessoweakorsimplyfear?”

“They’re fearful right enough, Ivor,” Beatrice said. “Just now aspider falling beside them could set them tearing at one another.Asorrycrewyousentouttogreetus.”

“My apologies,Mistress Beatrice. And to you too, sir. It’s not thewelcomeyouwouldusuallygethere,butasyousee,you’vearrivedonanightfilledwithdread.”

“We’ve lostourway to theold longhouse, Ivor,”Beatrice said. “Ifyou’dpointus to itwe’dbemuchbeholden toyou.Especially afterthatgreeting,myhusbandandIareeagertobeindoorsandresting.”

“I’d liketopromiseyouakindwelcomeatthelonghouse, friends,butonthisnightthere’snotellingwhatmyneighboursmayseefittodo. I’dbe easier if youandyourgoodhusbandagreed to spend thenightundermyownroof,whereIknowyou’llremainundisturbed.”

“Weacceptyourkindnessgladly,sir,”Axlbrokein.“MywifeandIaremuchinneedofrest.”

“Then follow me, friends. Stay close behind me and keep yourvoiceslowtillwearrive.”

They followed Ivor through the dark until they reached a housewhich,thoughinstructuremuchliketheothers,waslargerandstoodapart by itself.When they entered under the low arch, the air wasthickwithwoodsmoke,which,evenasitmadeAxl’schesttighten,feltwarmandwelcoming.The firewassmouldering in thecentreof theroom,surroundedbywovenrugs,animalskinsand furniturecraftedfromoakandash.AsAxlwentaboutextricatingblankets fromtheirbundles, Beatrice sank gratefully into a rocking chair. Ivor, though,remainedstandingbythedoorway,apreoccupiedlookonhisface.

“The treatment you received just now,” he said, “I shudder withshametothinkofit.”

“Please let’s thinknomore of it, sir,”Axl said. “You’ve shownusmorekindnessthanwecoulddeserve.Andwearrivedthiseveningintimetoseethebravemensetoffontheirdangerousmission.Soweunderstand all toowell the dread that hangs in the air, and it’s nowondersomeshouldbehavefoolishly.”

“If you strangers remember our troubles well enough, how is itthose fools are forgetting them already? Theywere told in terms achild would understand to hold their positions on the fence at allcosts, the safety of the whole community depending on it, to saynothingoftheneedtoaidourheroesshouldtheyappearatthegatespursuedbymonsters.Sowhatdotheydo?Twostrangersgoby,andremembering nothing of their orders or even the reasons for them,theysetonyoulikecrazedwolves.I’dbedoubtingmyownsensesifsuchstrangeforgetfulnessdidn’toccursoofteninthisplace.”

“It’s the same in our own country, sir,” Axl said. “Mywife and Ihavewitnessedmanyincidentsofsuchforgetfulnessamongourownneighbours.”

“Interestingtohearthat,sir.AndIwasfearingthisakindofplaguespreadingthroughourcountryonly.AndisitbecauseI’mold,orthatI’m a Briton living here among Saxons, that I’m often left aloneholdingsomememorywhenallaroundmehaveletitslip?”

“We’ve found it just the same, sir.Thoughwesufferenough fromthemist—forthat’showmywifeandIhavecometocallit—weseemtodosolessthantheyoungerones.Canyouseeanexplanationforit,

sir?”

“I’veheardmanythingsspokenaboutit, friend,andmostlySaxonsuperstition. But last winter a stranger came this way who hadsomething to sayon thismatter towhich I findmyself givingmorecredence the more I think on it. Now what’s this?” Ivor, who hadremained by the door, his staff in his hand, turned with surprisingagilityforonesotwisted.“Excuseyourhost,friends.Thismaybeourbravemenalreadyreturned.It’sbestfornowyouremaininhereandnotshowyourselves.”

Oncehehad left,AxlandBeatrice remained silent for some time,theireyesclosed,grateful,intheirrespectivechairs,forthechancetorest.ThenBeatricesaidquietly:

“WhatdoyousupposeIvorwasgoingtosaythen,Axl?”

“Aboutwhat,princess?”

“Hewastalkingofthemistandthereasonforit.”

“Justarumourheheardonce.Byallmeanslet’saskhimtospeakmoreonit.Anadmirableman.HashealwayslivedamongSaxons?”

“EversincehemarriedaSaxonwomanalongtimeago,soI’mtold.WhatbecameofherIneverheard.Axl,wouldn’titbeafinethingtoknowthecauseofthemist?”

“Afinethingindeed,butwhatgooditwilldo,Idon’tknow.”

“How can you say so, Axl? How can you say such a heartlessthing?”

“What is it, princess?What’s thematter?”Axl sat up in his chairandlookedovertohiswife.“Ionlymeantknowingitscausewouldn’tmakeitgoaway,hereorinourowncountry.”

“If there’sevenachanceofunderstandingthemist, itcouldmakesuchadifferencetous.Howcanyouspeaksolightlyofit,Axl?”

“I’msorry,princess,Ididn’tmeantodoso.Mymindwasonotherthings.”

“Howcanyoubethinkingofotherthings,andweonlytodayheardwhatwedidfromthatboatman?”

“Otherthings,princess,suchasifthosebravemenhavecomebackand with the child unharmed. Or if this village with its frightened

guardsandflimsygateistobeinvadedthisnightbymonstrousfiendswishingrevengefortherudeattentionpaidthem.There’splentyforamind to dwell on, never mind the mist or the superstitious talk ofstrangeboatmen.”

“Noneedforharshwords,Axl.Ineverwishedaquarrel.”

“Forgiveme,princess.Itmustbethismoodhereisaffectingme.”

ButBeatricehadbecometearful.“Noneedtotalksoharshly,”shemutteredalmosttoherself.

Rising, Axl made his way to her rocking chair and crouchingslightly, held her closely to his chest. “I’m sorry, princess,” he said.“We’ll be sure to talk to Ivor about the mist before we leave thisplace.” Then after amoment, during which they continued to holdeach other, he said: “To be frank, princess, there was a particularthingonmymindjustnow.”

“Whatwasthat,Axl?”

“Iwaswonderingwhatthemedicinewomansaidtoyouaboutyourpain.”

“Shesaiditwasnothingbutwhat’stobeexpectedwiththeyears.”

“Justwhat I always said, princess. Didn’t I tell you therewas noneedforworry?”

“Iwasn’ttheoneworrying,husband.Itwasyouinsistingwegoseethewomantonight.”

“It’saswellwedid, fornowweneedn’tworryaboutyourpain, ifeverwedidbefore.”

Shegentlyfreedherselffromhisembraceandallowedherchairtorockback. “Axl,” she said. “Themedicinewomanmentionedanoldmonk she says is even wiser than her. He’s helpedmany from thisvillage,amonkcalledJonus.Hismonastery’sadayfromhere,uponthemountainroadeast.”

“Themountainroadeast.”Axlwandered towards thedoor,whichIvor had left ajar, and looked out into the darkness. “I’m thinking,princess,wecouldaseasilytakethehigherroadtomorrowasthelowonethroughthewoods.”

“That’sahardroad,Axl.Alotofclimbing.Itwilladdatleastaday

toourjourneyandthere’sourownsonanxiousforourarrival.”

“That’s all true. But it seems a pity, having come this far, not tovisitthiswisemonk.”

“Itwasonlysomethingthemedicinewomansaid,thinkingweweretravelling that way. I told her our son’s village was more easilyreachedby the low road, and she agreedherself then itwas hardlyworthourwhile,therebeingnothingtroublingmebuttheusualachesthatcomewiththeyears.”

Axlwentongazing through thedoorway into thedark. “Even so,princess,wemight thinkabout ityet.Buthere’s Ivor returning,andnotlookinghappy.”

Ivorcamestridingin,breathingheavily,andsittingdowninawidechair piledwith skins, allowed his staff to fall with a clatter at hisfeet. “Ayoung fool swearshe sees a fiend scaled theoutsideof ourfenceandnowpeekingatusoverthetopofit.Amightycommotion,Ineedn’ttellyou,andit’sallIcandotoraiseapartytogoandseeifit’strue.Ofcourse,there’snothingwherehepointsbutthenightsky,buthegoesonsayingthefiend’stherelookingatus,andtherestofthem cowering behindme like childrenwith their hoes and spears.Thenthefoolconfesseshefellasleeponhiswatchandsawthefiendin his dream, and even then do they hasten back to their posts?They’re so terrified, I have to swear to beat them till their ownkinmistakethemformutton.”He lookedaroundhim,still takingheavybreaths.“Excuseyourhost,friends.I’llbesleepinginthatinnerroomifI’mtosleepatalltonight,sodowhatyoucantofindcomforthere,thoughthere’slittleonoffer.”

“On the contrary, sir,” Axl said, “you’ve offered us wondrouslycomfortable lodgings and we’re grateful for it. I’m sorry it wasn’tbetternewscalledyououtjustnow.”

“Wemustwait,perhapswellintothenightandthemorningtoo.Towheredoyoutravel,friends?”

“We’ll set off east tomorrow, sir, to our son’s village, where heanxiously awaitsus.Buton thismatter youmaybeofhelp, formywifeandIwerejustarguingthebestroadtotake.WehearofawisemonkbythenameofJonusatamonasteryuponthemountainroadwhomwemightconsultonasmallmatter.”

“Jonuscertainlyhasareveredname,thoughI’venevermetthemanface to face.Go tohimbyallmeans,butbewarned, the journey tothemonastery’snoeasyone.Thepathwillclimbsteeplyformuchofyourday.Andwhenat last it levels youmust take carenot to loseyourway,foryou’llbeinQuerigcountry.”

“Querig,theshe-dragon?I’venotheardtalkofherinalongtime.Isshestillfearedinthiscountry?”

“Sherarelyleavesthemountainsnow,”Ivorsaid.“Thoughshemayonawhimattackapassingtraveller,it’slikelyshe’softenblamedforthe work of wild animals or bandits. In my view Querig’s menacecomeslessfromherownactionsthanfromthefactofhercontinuingpresence.Solongasshe’sleftatliberty,allmannerofevilcan’thelpbutbreedacrossour land likeapestilence.Take these fiendswhichcurseustonight.Wheredidtheycomefrom?They’renomereogres.Nooneherehasseentheirlikebefore.Whydidtheyjourneyhere,tomake camp on our riverbank? Querigmay rarely show herself, butmany a dark force stems from her and it’s a disgrace she remainsunslainalltheseyears.”

“ButIvor,”Beatricesaid,“who’dwishtochallengesuchabeast?Byall accounts Querig’s a dragon of great fierceness, and hidden indifficultterrain.”

“You’re right, Mistress Beatrice, it’s a daunting task. It happensthere’sanagedknight left fromArthur’sdays,chargedbythatgreatkingmanyyearsagotoslayQuerig.Youmaycomeacrosshimshouldyoutakethemountainroad.He’snoteasilymissed,dressedinrustedchainmail andmountedonaweary steed, always eager toproclaimhissacredmission,thoughI’dguesstheoldfoolhasnevergiventhatshe-dragon a single moment of anxiety. We’ll reach a great agewaitingforthedayhefulfilshisduty.Byallmeans,friends,traveltothemonastery,butgowithcautionandbesuretoreachsafeshelterbynightfall.”

Ivorbegantomovetotheinnerroom,butBeatricequicklysatupandsaid:

“You were talking earlier, Ivor, about the mist. How you heardsomethingof thecause for it,but thenwerecalledawaybeforeyoucouldsaymore.We’reanxiousnowtohearyouspeakonthismatter.”

“Ah, the mist. A good name for it. Who knows howmuch truth

thereisinwhatwehear,MistressBeatrice?IsupposeIwasspeakingof the stranger riding through our country last year and shelteredhere. He was from the fens, much like our brave visitor tonight,thoughspeakingadialectoftenhardtounderstand.Iofferedhimuseofthispoorhouse,asI’vedoneyou,andwetalkedonmanymattersthrough the evening, among them thismist, as you so aptly call it.Our strange affliction interested him greatly, and he questionedmeagain and again on the matter. And then he ventured something Idismissed at the time, but have sincemuch pondered. The strangerthoughtitmightbeGodhimselfhadforgottenmuchfromourpasts,events far distant, events of the same day. And if a thing is not inGod’s mind, then what chance of it remaining in those of mortalmen?”

Beatrice staredathim.“Cansucha thingbepossible, Ivor?We’reeachofushisdearchild.WouldGodreallyforgetwhatwehavedoneandwhat’shappenedtous?”

“Myquestionexactly,MistressBeatrice,andthestrangercouldoffernoanswer.Butsincethat time, I’vefoundmyself thinkingmoreandmoreofhiswords.Perhapsit’sasgoodanexplanationasanyforwhatyou name themist.Now forgiveme, friends, Imust take some restwhileIcan.”

AxlbecameawarethatBeatricewasshakinghisshoulder.Hehadnoideahowlongtheyhadslept:itwasstilldark,buttherewerenoisesoutside,andheheardIvorsaysomewhereabovehim:“Let’sprayit’sgoodnews andnot our end.”WhenAxl sat up, however, their hosthadalreadygone,andBeatricesaid:“Hurry,Axl,andwe’llseewhichitis.”

Bleary with sleep, he slipped his arm through his wife’s andtogether they stumbled out into the night. There were many moretorches lit now, some blazing from the ramparts, making it mucheasierthanbeforetoseeone’sway.Peopleweremovingeverywhere,dogsbarkingandchildrencrying.Thensomeorderseemedtoimposeitself,andAxlandBeatricefoundthemselvesinaprocessionhurryingin a single direction. They came to an abrupt halt, and Axl wassurprised to see theywere already at the central square—therewasobviouslyamoredirectroutefromIvor’shousethantheonetheyhadtaken earlier. The bonfire was blazing more fiercely than ever, so

muchsothatAxlthoughtforaninstantitwasitsheatthathadcausedthevillagers tostop.But lookingpast therowsofheads,hesawthewarriorhadreturned.Hewasstandingtherequitecalmly,totheleftofthefire,onesideofhisfigureilluminated,theotherinshadow.Thevisible part of his face was covered in what Axl recognised as tinyspotsofblood,asifhehadjustcomewalkingthroughafinemistofthestuff.Hislonghair,thoughstilltied,hadcomelooseandlookedwet. His clothes were covered in mud and perhaps blood, and thecloak he had nonchalantly flung over his shoulder at his departurewas now torn in several places. But the man himself appeareduninjured, and he was now talking quietly to three of the villageelders, Ivor among them. Axl could see too that the warrior washoldingsomeobjectinthecrookofhisarm.

Meanwhile, chanting had started, softly at first, then gatheringmomentum,tilleventuallythewarriorturnedtoacknowledgeit.Hismanner was devoid of any crude swagger. And when he began toaddress the crowd, his voice, though loud enough for all to hear,somehowgavetheimpressionhewasspeakinginalow,intimatetoneappropriatetosolemnsubjectmatter.

Hislistenershushedtocatcheachword,andsoonhewasdrawingfromthemgaspsofapprovalorofhorror.Atonepointhegesturedtoa spot behind him andAxl noticed for the first time, sitting on thegroundjustwithinthecircleoflight,thetwomenwhohadgoneoutwiththewarrior.Theylookedasiftheyhadfallentherefromaheightandweretoodazedtogetup.Thecrowdstartedupachantforthem,but thepair seemednot tonotice,continuing instead to stareat theairbeforethem.

The warrior then turned back to the crowd and said somethingwhichcausedthechantingtofade.Hesteppedclosertothefire,andgrasping inonehand theobjecthehadbeencarrying, raised it intotheair.

Axl sawwhat appeared to be theheadof a thick-necked creatureseveredjustbelowthethroat.Darkcurlsofhairhungdownfromthecrown to frame an eerily featureless face:where the eyes, nose andmouthshouldhavebeentherewasonlypimpledflesh,likethatofagoose, with a few tufts of down-like hair on the cheeks. A growlescapedthecrowdandAxlfeltitcowerback.Onlythendidherealisethatwhattheywerelookingatwasnotaheadatall,butasectionof

the shoulder and upper arm of some abnormally large, human-likecreature.Thewarriorwas,infact,holdinguphistrophybythestumpclose to the bicep with the shoulder end uppermost, and in thatmoment Axl saw that what he had taken for strands of hair wereentrails dangling out of the cut by which the segment had beenseparatedfromthebody.

Afteronlyashorttime,thewarriorloweredhistrophyandletitfallat his feet, as though he could now barely work up sufficientcontempt for the creature’s remains. For a second time, the crowdrecoiled,beforeedging forwardagain,andthenthechantingstarteduponcemore.But this time it died almost instantly for thewarriorwasspeakingagain,andthoughAxlcouldunderstandnoneof it,hecould sense palpably the nervous excitement around him. Beatricesaidinhisear:

“Ourherohaskilledbothmonsters.Onetookitsmortalwoundintothe forest, andwill not live through thenight. Theother stood andfoughtandforitssinsthewarriorhasbroughtofitwhatyouseeonthegroundthere.Therestofthefiendcrawledtothelaketonumbitspainandsanktherebeneaththeblackwaters.Thechild,Axl,youseetherethechild?”

Almost beyond the light of the fire a small group of women hadhuddledaroundathin,dark-hairedyouthseatedonastone.Hewasalready close to a man’s height, but one sensed that beneath theblanketnowwrappedaroundhim,hestillhadtheganglyframeofaboy.Onewomanhadbroughtoutabucketandwaswashingoffthegrimefromhisfaceandneck,butheseemedoblivious.Hiseyeswerefixedonthewarrior’sbackjustinfrontofhim,thoughintermittentlyhewouldanglehisheadtooneside,asthoughtryingtopeeraroundthewarrior’slegsatthethingontheground.

Axl was surprised that the sight of the rescued child, alive andevidentlywithout serious injury, provoked in him neither relief norjoy,butavagueunease.Hesupposedatfirstthiswastodowiththeoddmanneroftheboyhimself,butthenitoccurredtohimwhatwasreallywrong:therewassomethingamiss inthewaythisboy,whosesafety had until so recently been at the centre of the community’sconcerns, was now being received. There was a reserve, almost acoldness, thatremindedAxlofthat incident involvingthegirlMartainhisownvillage,andhewonderedif thisboy, likeher,wasinthe

processofbeingforgotten.Butsurelythiscouldnotbethecasehere.Peoplewereevennowpointingattheboy,andthewomenattendinghimwerestaringbackdefensively.

“I can’t catch what they’re saying, Axl,” Beatrice said in his ear.“Some quarrel about the child, though a great mercy he’s beenbroughtbacksafeandhehimselfshowingsurprisingcalmafterwhathisyoungeyeshavebeheld.”

Thewarriorwasstilladdressingthecrowd,andatoneofentreatyhad entered his voice. It was almost as if he was making anaccusation,andAxlcouldfeelthemoodofthecrowdchanging.Thesense of awe and gratitudewas givingway to some other emotion,and therewas confusion, even fear in the rumbleof voices swellingaround him. The warrior spoke again, his voice stern, gesturingbehindhimtowardstheboy.ThenIvorcamewithinthe lightof thefireandstandingbesidethewarriorsaidsomethingwhichdrewalessinhibitedgrowlofprotestfrompartsofhisaudience.AvoicebehindAxl shouted something, then arguments were breaking out on allsides. Ivor raisedhisvoiceand fora smallmoment therewasquiet,but almost straight away the shouting resumed, and now therewasjostlingintheshadows.

“Oh,Axl,please,let’shurryaway!”Beatricecriedintohisear.“Thisisnoplaceforus.”

Axlputhisarmaroundhershouldersandbegantopushtheirwaythrough, but somethingmade him glance back onemore time. Theboyhadnotchangedhisposition,andwasstillstaringatthewarrior’sback, apparently unaware of the commotion before him. But thewoman who had been tending to him had stepped away, and wasglancinguncertainly from theboy to the crowd.Beatrice tuggedhisarm.“Axl,please,takeusawayfromhere.I’mafraidwe’llbehurt.”

The entire village must have been at the square, for theyencounterednooneontheirwaybacktoIvor’shouse.OnlyasitcameintoviewdidAxlask:“Whatwasbeingsaidjustnow,princess?”

“I’mnotatall sure,Axl.Therewastoomuchof itatonceformyweak understanding. A quarrel about the boy who was saved, andtempers being lost. It’s well we’re away and we’ll find out in timewhat’soccurred.”

When Axl awoke the next morning there were shafts of sunlightcrossingtheroom.Hewasonthefloor,buthehadbeensleepingonabed of soft rugs beneath warm blankets—an arrangement moreluxuriousthanhewasaccustomedto—andhislimbsfeltwellrested.He was in good spirits, moreover, because he had awoken with apleasantmemorydriftingthroughhishead.

Beatrice stirred beside him but her eyes remained closed and herbreathing unbroken. Axl watched her, as he often did at suchmoments,waiting fora senseof tender joy to fillhisbreast. It soondid so, just as he expected, but todaywasmingledwith a trace ofsadness.Thefeelingsurprisedhim,andheranhishandlightlyalonghiswife’s shoulder, as though suchanactionwouldchaseaway theshadow.

Hecouldhearnoisesoutside,butunlikethosethathadwokenthemin the night, thesewere of people going about their business of anordinary morning. It occurred to him he and Beatrice had sleptunwiselylate,buthestillrefrainedfromwakingBeatriceandwentongazingather.Eventuallyherosecarefully,steppedovertothetimberdoorandpusheditopenalittleway.Thisdoor—itwouldhavebeena“proper”dooronwoodenhinges—madeacreakingnoiseandthesunenteredpowerfully through thegap,but stillBeatrice slepton.Nowsomewhat concerned, Axl returned to where she lay and croucheddownbesideher,feelingthestiffnessinhiskneesashedidso.Atlasthiswifeopenedhereyesandlookedupathim.

“Time we were rising, princess,” he said, hiding his relief. “Thevillageisaliveandourhostlonggone.”

“Thenyoushouldhaverousedmeearlier,Axl.”

“You looked sopeaceful,andafter that longday I imagined sleepwouldbewelcometoyou.AndIwasrightfornowyou’relookingasfreshasayoungmaid.”

“Talking your nonsense already and we don’t even know whathappened in the night. From the sound of things out there, theyhaven’tbeateneachothertobloodypulp.That’schildrenIhearandthedogssoundfedandhappy.Axl,istherewatertowashwithhere?”

A little later, having made themselves presentable as best theycould—andwith Ivor stillnot returned—theywanderedout into thecrisp, bright air in search of something to eat. The village now

appearedtoAxlafarmorebenevolentplace.Theroundhutswhichinthe dark had seemed so haphazardly positioned now stood beforetheminneatrows,theirmatchingshadowsforminganorderlyavenuethrough the village. Therewas a bustle ofmen andwomenmovingaboutwithtoolsorwashingtubs,groupsofchildrenfollowingintheirwake. The dogs, though numerous as ever, seemed docile. Only adonkey contentedly defecating in the sun right in front of a wellreminded Axl of the unruly place he had entered the night before.Therewere even nods and subdued greetings fromvillagers as theypassed,thoughnoonewentsofarastospeaktothem.

TheyhadnotgonefarwhentheyspottedthecontrastingfiguresofIvorandthewarriorstandingaheadoftheminthestreet,headsclosetogether in discussion. AsAxl and Beatrice approached, Ivor took astepbackandsmiledself-consciously.

“Iwishednottowakeyouprematurely,”hesaidtothem.“ButI’mapoor host and you both must be famished. Follow me to the oldlonghouse and I’ll see you’re given your fill. But first, friends, greetour hero of last night. You’ll find Master Wistan understands ourtonguewithease.”

Axlturnedtothewarriorandbowedhishead.“MywifeandIarehonoured tomeetamanof suchcourage,generosityandskill.Yourdeedslastnightwereremarkable.”

“Mydeedswerenothingextraordinary,sir,nomoremyskills.”Thewarrior’svoice,asbefore,wasgentleanda smilehoveredabouthiseyes.“Ihadgoodfortunelastnight,andbesides,wasablyhelpedbybravecomrades.”

“The comrades he speaks of,” Ivor said, “were too busy soilingthemselvestojointhebattle.It’sthismanalonedestroyedthefiends.”

“Really, sir, nomore on this matter.” The warrior had addressedIvor,butwasnowgazingintentlyatAxl,asthoughsomemarkonthelatter’sfacegreatlyfascinatedhim.

“You speak our languagewell, sir,” Axl said, taken aback by thescrutiny.

The warrior went on studying Axl, then caught himself andlaughed.“Forgiveme,sir.Ithoughtforamoment…Butforgiveme.Myblood is Saxon through and through, but Iwas brought up in a

countrynotfarfromhereandwasoftenamongBritons.SoIlearnttospeakyourtonguealongsidemyown.ThesedaysI’mlessaccustomedto it, livingas Ido faraway in the fenlands,whereonehearsmanystrangetonguesbutnotyours.Soyoumustexcusemyerrors.”

“Farfromit,sir,”Axlsaid.“Onecanhardlytellyouaren’tanativespeaker.Infact,Icouldn’thelpnoticelastnightyourwayofwearingyour sword, closer and higher on the waist than Saxons areaccustomedtodo,yourhandfallingeasilyonthehandleasyouwalk.Ihopeyouwon’tbeoffendedwhen I say it’s amannermuch likeaBriton’s.”

Again Wistan laughed. “My Saxon comrades ceaselessly jest notonlyonmywearingofthesword,butmywieldingofit.Butyousee,my skills were taught to me by Britons, and I’ve never wished forbetterteaching.Ithaspreservedmewellthroughmanydangers,anddidsoagainlastnight.Excusemyimpertinence,sir,butIseeyou’renotfromthesepartsyourself.Canitbeyournativecountryistothewest?”

“We’re fromtheneighbouringcountry, sir.Aday’swalkaway,nomore.”

“Yetperhapsindistantdaysyoulivedfurtherwest?”

“AsIsay,sir,I’mfromtheneighbouringcountry.”

“Forgivemy poormanners. Travelling this farwest, I findmyselfnostalgic for the country ofmy childhood, though I know it’s somedistance yet. I find myself seeing everywhere shadows of half-remembered faces.Areyouandyourgoodwife returninghome thismorning?”

“No, sir,we go east to our son’s village,whichwehope to reachwithintwodays.”

“Ah.Theroadthroughtheforestthen.”

“Actually, sir, we mean to take the high road through themountains, therebeingawiseman in themonastery therewehopewillgrantusanaudience.”

“Is that so?” Wistan nodded thoughtfully, and once more lookedcarefullyatAxl.“I’mtoldthat’sasteepclimb.”

“My guests have not yet breakfasted,” Ivor said, breaking in.

“Excuseus,MasterWistan,whileIwalkthemtothelonghouse.Thenif we may, sir, I’d like to resume our discussion of just now.” Helowered his voice and continued in Saxon, towhichWistan repliedwithanod.ThenturningtoAxlandBeatrice,Ivorshookhisheadandsaidgravely:“Despitethisman’sgreateffortslastnight,ourproblemsarefarfromover.Butfollowme,friends,youmustbefamished.”

Ivormarchedoffwithhislurchinggait,proddingtheearthateachstep with his staff. He seemed too distracted to notice his guestsfalling behind in the crowded alleys. At one point, when Ivor wasseveral paces ahead, Axl said to Beatrice: “That warrior’s anadmirablefellow,didn’tyouthinkso,princess?”

“Nodoubt,”sherepliedquietly.“Butthatwasastrangewayhehadofstaringatyou,Axl.”

Therewasnotimetosaymore,forIvor,atlastnoticinghewasindangeroflosingthem,hadstoppedatacorner.

Before long they came to a sunny courtyard.Therewere roaminggeese, and the yard itself was bisected by an artificial stream—ashallow channel cut into the earth—alongwhich thewater trickledwithurgency.Atitsbroadestpointthestreamwasfordedbyasimplelittlebridgeoftwoflatrocks,andatthatmomentanolderchildwassquattingononeofthem,washingclothes.ItwasascenethatstruckAxlasalmostidyllic,andhewouldhavepausedtotakeitinfurtherhadIvornotkeptstridingfirmlyontowardsthelow,heavilythatchedbuildingwhoselengthrantheentirefaredgeoftheyard.

Once inside it, you would not have thought this longhouse sodifferent from the sort of rustic canteen many of you will haveexperienced in one institution or another. There were rows of longtablesandbenches,andtowardsoneend,akitchenandservingarea.Its main difference from a modern facility would have been thedominating presence of hay: there was hay above one’s head, andbeneathone’s feet,andthoughnotbydesign,alloverthesurfaceofthetables,blownaroundbytheguststhatregularlysweptthroughtheplace. On a morning such as this, as our travellers sat down tobreakfast, the sun breaking in through the porthole-like windowswouldhaverevealedtheair itself tobefilledwithdriftingspecksofhay.

Theold longhousewasdesertedwhen theyarrived,but Ivorwent

into the kitchen area, and a moment later two elderly womenappearedwithbread,honey,biscuitsandjugsofmilkandwater.ThenIvor himself came back with a tray of poultry cuts which Axl andBeatriceproceededtodevourgratefully.

At first they ate without speaking, only now conscious of howhungrytheyhadbeen.Ivor,facingthemacrossthetable,continuedtobrood,hiseyesfarawayinthought,anditwasonlyaftersometimethatBeatricesaid:

“These Saxons are a great burden to you, Ivor. Perhaps you’rewishingtobebackwithyourownkind,evenwiththeboyreturnedsafeandtheogresslain.”

“Those were no ogres, mistress, nor any creatures seen before intheseparts.It’sagreatfearremovedtheynolongerroamoutsideourgates.Theboythoughisanothermatter.Returnedhemaybe,butfarfromsafe.”Ivorleanedacrossthetabletowardsthemandloweredhisvoice,eventhoughtheywereoncemorealone.“You’reright,MistressBeatrice,Iwonderatmyselftoliveamongsuchsavages.Betterdwellinapitofrats.Whatcanthatbravestrangerthinkofus,andafterallhedidlastnight?”

“Why, sir,what has occurred?”Axl asked. “Wewere there at thefirelastnight,butsensingafiercequarrel,tookourleaveandremainignorantofwhatwenton.”

“You did well to hide yourselves, friends. These pagans weresufficientlyarousedlastnighttotearouteachother’seyes.Howtheymight have treated a pair of strange Britons found in their midst Idread to think.TheboyEdwinwas safely returned,but evenas thevillagebegan to rejoice, thewomen foundonhima smallwound. Iinspected it myself as did the other elders. A mark just below hischest, no worse than what a child receives after a tumble. But thewomen, his own kin at that, declared it a bite, and that’swhat thevillageiscallingitthismorning.I’vehadtohavetheboylockedinashed for his safety, and even so, his companions, his very familymembers, throwing stones at the door and calling for him to bebroughtoutandslaughtered.”

“Buthowcanthisbe, Ivor?”Beatriceasked.“Is it themist’sworkagain that they’ve lost allmemoryof thehorrors the child so latelysuffered?”

“Ifonlyitwere,mistress.Butthistimetheyappeartorememberalltoowell.Thepaganswillnotlookbeyondtheirsuperstitions.It’stheirconviction thatoncebittenbya fiend, theboywillbefore long turnfiendhimselfandwreakhorrorherewithinourwalls.Theyfearhimandshouldheremainhere,he’llsufferafateasterribleasanyfromwhichMasterWistansavedhimlastnight.”

“Surely,sir,”Axlsaid,“thereare thoseherewiseenoughtoarguebettersense.”

“If there are, we’re outnumbered, and even if we may commandrestraint foradayor two, itwon’tbe longbefore the ignoranthavetheirway.”

“Thenwhat’stobedone,sir?”

“Thewarrior’s as horrified as you are, andwe two have been indiscussionallmorning.I’veproposedhetaketheboywithhimwhenheridesout,impositionthoughthisis,andleavehimatsomevillagesufficientlydistantwherehemayhaveachanceofanew life. I feltshametothedepthsofmyhearttoasksuchathingofamansosoonafter he has risked his life for us, but I could see little else to do.Wistanisnowconsideringmyproposal,thoughhehasanerrandforhiskingandalreadydelayedonaccountofhishorseandlastnight’stroubles.Infact,Imustchecktheboy’sstillsafenow,thengoseeifthewarriorhasmadehisdecision.”Ivorroseandpickeduphisstaff.“Comeandsayfarewellbeforeyouleave,friends.Thoughafterwhatyou’veheardI’llunderstandyourwishtohurryfromherewithoutabackwardglance.”

AxlwatchedIvor’sfigurethroughthedoorwaystridingoffacrossthesunnycourtyard.“Dismalnews,princess,”hesaid.

“Itis,Axl,butit’snottodowithus.Let’snotdallyfurtherinthisplace.Ourpathtoday’sasteepone.”

Thefoodandmilkwereveryfresh,andtheyateonforawhileinsilence.ThenBeatricesaid:

“Doyousupposethere’sanytruthinit,Axl?WhatIvorwassayinglastnightaboutthemist,thatitwasGodhimselfmakingusforget.”

“Ididn’tknowwhattothinkofit,princess.”

“Axl, a thought came to me about it this morning, just as I was

waking.”

“Whatthoughtwasthat,princess?”

“Itwasjustathought.ThatperhapsGodisangryaboutsomethingwe’vedone.Ormaybehe’snotangry,butashamed.”

“Acuriousthought,princess.Butifit’sasyousay,whydoesn’thepunishus?Whymakeusforget likefoolseventhingsthathappenedthehourbefore?”

“PerhapsGod’ssodeeplyashamedofus,ofsomethingwedid,thathe’s wishing himself to forget. And as the stranger told Ivor, whenGodwon’tremember,it’snowonderwe’reunabletodoso.”

“WhatonthisearthcouldwehavedonetomakeGodsoashamed?”

“Idon’tknow,Axl.Butit’ssurelynotanythingyouandIeverdid,forhe’salwaysloveduswell.Ifweweretopraytohim,prayandaskforhimtorememberatleastafewofthethingsmostprecioustous,whoknows,hemayhearandgrantusourwish.”

Therewasaburstoflaughteroutside.Tiltinghisheadalittle,Axlwasabletoseeoutintheyardagroupofchildrenbalancingontheflatrocksoverthelittlestream.Ashewatched,oneofthemfellintothewaterwithasqueal.

“Who’s to say, princess,” he said. “Perhaps thewisemonk in themountainswillexplainittous.Butnowwe’respeakingofwakingthismorning, there’s something came to me also, perhaps the samemomentyouwerehavingthesethoughts.Itwasamemory,asimpleone,butIwaspleasedenoughwithit.”

“Oh,Axl!Whatmemorywasthat?”

“Iwasrememberingatimewewerewalkingthroughamarketorafestival.Wewereinavillage,butnotourown,andyouwerewearingthatlightgreencloakwiththehood.”

“Thismustbeadreamorelsealongtimeago,husband.Ihavenogreencloak.”

“I’m talking of long ago, right enough, princess. A summer’s day,but therewas a chillwind in this placewherewewere, and you’dplaced thegreen cloak aroundyou, thoughyoukept thehood fromyourhead.Amarketorperhaps some festival. Itwasavillageonaslopewithgoatsinapenwhereyoufirstsetfootinit.”

“Andwhatwasitweweredoingthere,Axl?”

“Wewerejustwalkingarminarm,andthentherewasastranger,amanfromthevillage,suddenlyinourpath.Andtakingoneglanceatyou,hestaredlikehewasbeholdingagoddess.Doyourememberit,princess?A youngman, though I supposewe toowere young then.Andhewasexclaiminghe’dneverseteyesonawomansobeautiful.Then he reached forward and touched your arm. Do you have amemoryofit,princess?”

“There’ssomethingcomesbacktome,butnotclearly.I’mthinkingthiswasadrunkenmanyou’retalkingof.”

“A little drunk perhaps, I don’t know, princess. It was a day offestivities,as I say.All the same,he sawyouandwasamazed.Saidyouwerethemostbeautifulsighthe’deverseen.”

“Thenthismustbealongtimeagorightenough!Isn’tthisthedayyou grew jealous and quarrelled with the man, the way we werealmostrunoutofthevillage?”

“I recallnothing like that,princess.The time I’m thinkingof,youhadonthegreencloak,and itwassomefestivalday,andthis samestranger,seeingIwasyourprotector,turnedtomeandsaid,she’stheloveliestvisionI’veseensoyoubesuretotakeverygoodcareofhermyfriend.That’swhathesaid.”

“Itcomesbacktomesomewhat,butI’msureyouthenhadajealousquarrelwithhim.”

“How could I have done such a thing when even now I feel thepride rising throughmeat the stranger’swords?Themostbeautifulvisionhe’dseen.Andhewastellingmetotaketheverybestcareofyou.”

“Ifyoufeltproud,Axl,youwerejealousalso.Didn’tyoustanduptothemaneventhoughhewasdrunk?”

“It’snothowIrememberit,princess.PerhapsIjustmadeashowofbeing jealous as a sort of jest. But I would have known the fellowmeantnoharm.It’swhatIwokewiththismorning,thoughit’sbeenmanyyears.”

“If that’showyou’verememberedit,Axl, let itbethewayitwas.Withthismistuponus,anymemory’sapreciousthingandwe’dbest

holdtighttoit.”

“Iwonderwhatbecameofthatcloak.Youalwaystookgoodcareofit.”

“Itwasacloak,Axl,andlikeanycloakitmusthavewornthinwiththeyears.”

“Didn’tweloseitsomewhere?Leftonasunnyrockperhaps?”

“Nowthatcomesbacktome.AndIblamedyoubitterlyforitsloss.”

“Ibelieveyoudid,princess, thoughIcan’t thinknowwhat justicetherewasinthat.”

“Oh,Axl,it’sareliefwecanrememberafewthingsstill,mistornomist. It couldbeGod’salreadyheardusand ishastening tohelpusremember.”

“Andwe’llrememberplentymore,princess,whenwesetourmindsto it.There’llbeno slyboatmanable to trickus then, even if thereevercomesadaywecareatallforhisfoolishchatter.Butlet’seatupnow.Thesun’shighandwe’relateforthatsteeppath.”

TheywerewalkingbacktoIvor’shouse,andhadjustpassedthespotwheretheywerenearlyassaultedthepreviousnight,whentheyheardavoicecallingfromabove.Glancingaround,theyspottedWistanhighupontherampart,perchedonalookout’splatform.

“Gladtoseeyoustillhere,friends,”thewarriorcalleddown.

“Still here,” Axl called in reply, taking a few paces towards thefence.“Buthasteningonourway.Andyou,sir?Willyourestherefortheday?”

“Itoomustleaveshortly.ButifImayimposeonyou,sir,forashortconversation,I’dbemostthankful.Ipromisenottodetainyoulong.”

AxlandBeatriceexchangedlooks,andshesaidquietly:“Speakwithhimifyouwill,Axl.I’llreturntoIvor’sandprepareprovisionsforourjourney.”

Axlnodded,thenturningtoWistan,called:“Verywell,sir.Doyouwishmetocomeup?”

“Asyouwill,sir.I’llhappilycomedown,butit’sasplendidmorningandtheviewissuchastoliftthespirits.Iftheladder’snotroubleto

you,Iurgeyoutojoinmeuphere.”

“Goseewhathewants,Axl,”Beatricesaidquietly.“Butbecareful,andit’snotjusttheladderI’mspeakingof.”

Hetookeachrungwithcareuntilhereachedthewarrior,waitingwithanextendedhand.Axlsteadiedhimselfonthenarrowplatform,thenlookeddowntoseeBeatricewatchingfrombelow.OnlyafterhehadwavedcheerfullydidshemoveoffsomewhatreluctantlytowardsIvor’shouse—nowclearlyvisiblefromhishighvantagepoint.Hekeptwatchingher fora furthermoment, then turnedandgazedoutoverthetopofthefence.

“Yousee Ididn’t lie, sir,”Wistansaid,as theystoodtheresidebyside,thewindontheirfaces.“It’squitesplendidasfarastheeyewillreach.”

The view before them that morning may not have differed sogreatly from one to be had from the high windows of an Englishcountry house today. The twomenwould have seen, to their right,thevalleysidecomingdowninregulargreenridges,whilefartotheirleft,theoppositeslope,coveredwithpinetrees,wouldhaveappearedhazier, becausemore distant, as it merged with the outlines of themountains on the horizon. Directly before them was a clear viewalong the valley floor; of the river curvinggently as it followed thecorridoroutofview;oftheexpansesofmarshlandbrokenbypatchesofpondandlakefurtherinthedistance.Therewouldhavebeenelmsand willows near the water, as well as dense woodland, which inthosedayswouldhavestirredasenseofforeboding.Andjustwherethesunlightwentintoshadowontheleftbankoftherivercouldbeseensomeremnantsofalong-abandonedvillage.

“Yesterday I rodedown thathillside,”Wistan said, “andmymarewithhardlyanypromptingset intoagallopasthoughforsheer joy.We raced across fields, past lake and river, andmy spirit soared.Astrange thing, as if I were returning to scenes from an early life,thoughtomyknowledgeI’veneverbeforevisitedthiscountry.Canitbe I passed this way as a small boy too young to know mywhereabouts, yet old enough to retain these sights? The trees andmoorlandhere,theskyitselfseemtotugatsomelostmemory.”

“It’s possible,” Axl said, “this country and the one further westwhereyouwerebornsharemanylikenesses.”

“Thatmustbeit,sir. Inthefenlandswehavenohillstospeakof,andthetreesandgrasslackthecolourbeforeusnow.Butitwasonthatjoyfulgallopmymarebrokehershoe,andthoughthismorningthe good people here have given her another, I will have to ridegentlyforonehoofisbruised.Thetruthis,sir,Ibroughtyouupherenot simply to admire the country, but to be away from unwelcomeears. I take it you’ve by now heard what’s occurred to the boyEdwin?”

“MasterIvortoldusofit,andwethoughtitpoornewstosucceedyourbraveintervention.”

“You may know also how the elders, despairing of what wouldhappen to the boy here, begged I take him away today. They ask Ileave the boy in some distant village, telling some story of how Ifound him lost and hungry on the road. This I’d do gladly enough,exceptIfearsuchaplancanhardlysavehim.Wordwilleasilytravelacross the country and next month, next year, the boy could findhimself in theveryplighthe is in today,yetall theworse forbeinglatelyarrivedandhispeopleunknown.Youseehowitis,sir?”

“You’rewisetofearsuchanoutcome,MasterWistan.”

The warrior, who had been speaking while gazing out at thescenery,pushedbackatangledlockofhairthewindhadblownacrosshisface.Ashedidso,heseemedsuddenlytoseesomethinginAxl’sown features and, for a smallmoment, to forgetwhat he had beensaying. He gazed intently at Axl, angling his head. Then he gave asmalllaugh,saying:

“Forgive me, sir. I was just now reminded of something. But toreturntomypoint. Iknewnothingofthisboybeforelastnight,butI’vebeenimpressedbythesteadywayhehasfacedeachnewterrorsetbeforehim.Mycomradeslastnight,bravethoughtheywerewhensetting out, were overcome with fear as we approached the fiends’camp. The boy, however, even though left at the fiends’ mercy formany hours, held himself with a calm I could only wonder at. Itwouldpainmegreatly to thinkhis fate’snowallbut sealed.So I’vebeen thinkingofawayout, and if youandyourgoodwifewere toconsenttolendahand,allmayyetbewell.”

“We’rekeentodowhatwecan,sir.Letmehearwhatyoupropose.”

“Whentheeldersaskedmetotaketheboytoadistantvillage,they

meantnodoubtaSaxonvillage.But it’sprecisely inaSaxonvillagetheboywillneverbesafe,foritisSaxonswhosharethissuperstitionaboutthebitehecarries.IfheweretobeleftwithBritons,however,whoseesuchnonsenseforwhatitis,therecanbenodanger,evenifthe story were to pursue him. He’s strong, and as I’ve said, hasremarkablecourage,evenifhespeakslittle.He’llbeausefulpairofhandsforanycommunityfromthedayhearrives.Now,sir,yousaidearlieryou’reonyourwayeasttoyourson’svillage.ItakeitthiswillbejustsuchaChristianvillageasweseek.Ifyouandyourwifewereto plead for him,with perhaps the support of your son, thatwouldsurely secure a good outcome. Of course, itmay be the same goodpeoplewouldaccept theboy fromme,but then I’llbea stranger tothem,andonetoarousefearandsuspicion.What’smore,theerrandwhichhasbroughtmetothiscountrywillpreventmytravellingsofareast.”

“You’resuggestingthen,”Axlsaid,“thatmywifeandIbetheonestotaketheboyfromhere.”

“Thatisindeedmysuggestion,sir.However,myerrandwillpermitmetotravelatleastpartofthesameroad.Yousaidyouwouldtakethepaththroughthemountains. I’dhappilyaccompanyyouandtheboy, at least to the other side. My company will be a tediousimposition,butthenthemountainsareknowntocontaindangers,andmyswordmayyetproveofservicetoyou.Andyourbagstoocouldbe carried by the horse, for even if her foot’s tender, she’ll notcomplainofit.Whatdoyousay,sir?”

“Ithinkitanexcellentplan.MywifeandIweredistressedtohearoftheboy’splight,andwe’llbehappyifwecanaidsomeresolution.Andwhatyou say iswise, sir. It’s amongBritons, surely,he’s safestnow.I’venodoubthe’llbereceivedwithkindnessatmyson’svillage,formysonhimselfisarespectedfigurethere,practicallyanelderinall but his years. He’ll speak for the boy, I know, and ensure hiswelcome.”

“I’mmuch relieved. I’ll letMaster Ivor knowourplan and seek awaytoremovetheboyquietlyfromthebarn.Areyouandyourwifereadytoleaveshortly?”

“Mywifeisevennowpackingprovisionsforthejourney.”

“Thenpleasewaitbythesouthgate.I’llcomebypresentlywiththe

mareand theboyEdwin. I’mgrateful toyou, sir, for the sharingofthistrouble.Andgladwe’retobecompanionsforadayortwo.”

ChapterFour

Never in his life had he seen his village from such a height anddistance,anditamazedhim.Itwaslikeanobjecthecouldpickupinhishand,andheflexedhisfingersexperimentallyovertheviewintheafternoon haze. The old woman, who had watched his ascent withanxiety,wasstillatthefootofthetree,callinguptohimtoclimbnofurther.ButEdwinignoredher,forheknewtreesbetterthananyone.Whenthewarriorhadorderedhimtokeepwatch,hehadselectedtheelm with care, knowing that for all its sickly appearance, it wouldpossess its own subtle strength and welcome him. It commanded,moreover, the best view of the bridge, and of the mountain roadleadinguptoit,andhecouldseeclearlythethreesoldierstalkingtothe rider. The latter had now dismounted, and holding his restlesshorsebythebridle,wasarguingfiercelywiththesoldiers.

Heknewhis trees—and this elmwas just like Steffa. “Lethimbecarriedoffandlefttorotintheforest.”Thatwaswhattheolderboysalways said about Steffa. “Isn’t that what happens to old cripplesunable to work?” But Edwin had seen Steffa for what he was: anancientwarrior,still secretlystrong,andwithanunderstandingthatwentbeyondeventhatoftheelders.Steffa,aloneinthevillage,hadonce known battlefields—it was the battlefields that had taken hislegs—and that was why, in turn, Steffa had been able to recogniseEdwin forwhathewas.Therewereotherboys stronger,whomightamusethemselvespinningEdwintothegroundandbeatinghim.ButitwasEdwin,notanyofthem,whopossessedawarrior’ssoul.

“I’vewatchedyou,boy,”oldSteffahadoncesaidtohim.“Underastormoffists,youreyesstillcalm,asifmemorisingeachblow.EyesI’veseenonlyonthefinestwarriorsmovingcoldlythroughtherageofbattle.Somedaysoonyou’llbecomeonetofear.”

And now it was starting. It was coming true, just as Steffa hadpredicted.

As a strong breeze swayed the tree, Edwin moved his grip to adifferentbranchand triedagain torecall theeventsof themorning.Hisaunt’s facehadbecomedistortedoutofall recognition.Shehad

been shriekinga curseathim,butElder Ivorhadnot lether finish,pushing her away from the doorway of the barn, blocking Edwin’sviewofherashedidso.Hisaunthadalwaysbeengoodtohim,butifshenowwantedtocursehim,Edwindidnotcare.Not longagoshehadtriedtogetEdwintoaddressheras“mother,”buthehadneverdoneso.Forheknewhisrealmotherwastravelling.Hisrealmotherwouldnot shriekathim like that, andhave tobedraggedawaybyElder Ivor. And this morning, in the barn, he had heard his realmother’svoice.

Elder Ivorhadpushedhiminside, into thedarkness,andthedoorhadclosed, takingawayhisaunt’s twisted face—andall thoseotherfaces.Atfirstthewagonhadappearedonlyasaloomingblackshapein the middle of the barn. Then gradually he had distinguished itsoutline,andwhenhehadreachedtowardsit,thewoodhadfeltmoistand rotten. Outside, the voices were shouting again, and then thecrackingnoiseshadcome.Theyhadstartedsporadically,thenseveralhad comeat once, accompaniedby a splintering sound, afterwhichthebarnhadseemedslightlylessdark.

He knew the noiseswere stones striking the ricketywalls, but heignoredthemtoconcentrateonthewagonbeforehim.Howlongagohaditlastbeenused?Whydiditstandsocrookedly?Ifitwasnowofnouse,whywasitkeptlikethisinthebarn?

Itwasthenhehadheardhervoice:difficulttodistinguishatfirst,onaccountofthedinoutsideandthesoundofthestones,butithadgrown steadily more clear. “It’s nothing, Edwin,” she was saying.“Nothingatall.Youcanbeariteasily.”

“Buttheeldersmaynotbeabletoholdthembackforever,”hehadsaid into the dark, though under his breath, even as his hand hadstrokedthesideofthewagon.

“It’snothing,Edwin.Nothingatall.”

“Thestonesmaybreakthesethinwalls.”

“Don’t worry, Edwin. Didn’t you know? Those stones are underyourcontrol.Look,what’sthatbeforeyou?”

“Anoldandbrokenwagon.”

“Well, there you are. Go round and round thewagon, Edwin.Goroundandroundthewagon,becauseyou’rethemuletetheredtothe

bigwheel.Roundandround,Edwin.Thebigwheelcanonly turn ifyouturnit,andonlyifyouturnitcanthestoneskeepcoming.Roundand round the wagon, Edwin. Go round and round and round thewagon.”

“WhymustIturnthewheel,mother?”Evenashehadspoken,hisfeethadstartedcirclingthewagon.

“Because you’re themule, Edwin. Round and round. Those sharpcracking noises you hear. They can’t continue unless you turn thewheel. Turn it, Edwin, round and round. Round and round thewagon.”

Sohehadfollowedhercommands,keepinghishandsontheupperedges of the wagon’s boards, passing one hand over the other tomaintain his momentum. Howmany times had he gone round likethat?Ahundred?Twohundred?Hewouldkeepseeing,inonecorner,amysteriousmoundofearth;inanothercorner,whereanarrowlineof sun fell across the floor of the barn, a dead crow on its side,feathersstill intact. Inthehalf-dark,thesetwosights—themoundofearthandthedeadcrow—hadcomearoundagainandagain.Oncehehadaskedoutloud,“Didmyauntreallycurseme?”butnoreplyhadcome,andhehadwondered ifhismotherhadgoneaway.But thenher voice had returned, saying, “Do your duty, Edwin. You’re themule.Don’tstopjustyet.Youcontroleverything.Ifyoustop,sowillthosenoises.Sowhyfearthem?”

Sometimes he went three or even four times around the wagonwithout hearing a single sharp crack. But then as though tocompensate, several cracks would come at once, and the shoutingoutsidewouldrisetoanewpitch.

“Where are you, mother?” he had asked once. “Are you stilltravelling?”

Noreplyhadcome,butthenseveralturnslater,shehadsaid,“I’dhavegivenyoubrothersandsisters,Edwin,manyofthem.Butyou’reon your own. So find the strength forme. You’re twelve years old,almost grown now. Youmust be by yourself four, five strong sons.Findthestrengthandcomerescueme.”

Asanotherbreezerockedtheelm,Edwinwonderedif thebarnhehadbeeninwasthesameoneinwhichthepeoplehadhiddenthedaythewolveshadcometothevillage.OldSteffahadtoldhimthestory

oftenenough.

“Youwereveryyoungthen,boy,perhapstooyoungtoremember.Wolves, in broad daylight, three of them,walking calmly right intothe village.” Then Steffa’s voicewould fillwith contempt. “And thevillagehid in fear.Somemenwereaway in the fields, it’s true.Butthere were plenty still here. They hid themselves in the threshingbarn. Not just the women and the children but the men too. Thewolveshadstrangeeyes,theysaid.Bestnottochallengethem.Sothewolves took all theywished. They slaughtered the hens. Feasted onthe goats. And all the while, the village hid. Some in their houses.Most in the threshing barn. Cripple that I am, they leftmewhere Iwas, sitting in the barrow, these broken legs poking out, beside theditch outside Mistress Mindred’s. The wolves trotted towards me.Comeandeatme, I said, I’llnothide inabarn forawolf.But theycarednotformeandIwatchedthemgorightpast,theirfurasgoodas brushing these useless feet. They took all theywished, and onlyafter they’d long departed did those brave men creep out of theirhidingplaces.Threewolvesindaylight,andnotamanheretostanduptothem.”

He had thought about Steffa’s story as he had circled thewagon.“Areyoustilltravelling,mother?”hehadaskedoncemore,andagainhad received no reply. His legs were growing weary, and he hadgrownheartilysickofseeingthemoundofearthandthedeadcrow,whenatlastshehadsaid:

“Enough,Edwin.You’veworkedhard.Callyourwarriornowifyouwish.Bringanendtoit.”

Edwin had heard this with relief, but had carried on circling thewagon.TosummonWistan,heknew,wouldrequire immenseeffort.Ashehadthenightbefore,hewouldhavetowillhiscomingfromtheverydepthsofhisheart.

Butsomehowhehadfoundthestrength,andoncehewasconfidentthe warrior was on his way, Edwin had slowed his pace—for evenmulesweredrivenmoreslowlytowardstheendofaday—andnotedwith satisfaction the crackingnoiseswere growingmore sparse.Butonlywhensilencehadcontinuedfora longtimedidhefinallystop,andleaningagainstthesideofthewagon,begintorecoverhisbreath.Then the barn door had opened and thewarrior had been standingthereagainstthedazzlingsunshine.

Wistan had come in leaving the door wide open behind him asthough to show his contempt forwhatever hostile forces had latelybeengatheredoutside.Thishadbroughtalargerectangleofsunintothebarn,andwhenEdwinhadglancedabouthimself,thewagon,sodominant in the dark, had looked pathetically dilapidated. HadWistan called him “young comrade” straight away? Edwin wasunsure,buthedidrememberthewarriorleadinghimintothatpatchoflight,liftinghisshirtandscrutinisingthewound.Wistanhadthenstraightened, glanced carefully over his shoulder, and said in a lowvoice:

“So,my young friend, have you kept your promise of last night?Aboutthiswoundofyours?”

“Yes,sir.I’vedonejustasyousaid.”

“You’vetoldnoone,notevenyourgoodaunt?”

“I’vetoldnoone,sir.Eventhoughtheybelieveitanogre’sbiteandhatemeforit.”

“Let them go on believing it, young comrade. Ten timesworse iftheylearnthetruthofhowyoureceivedit.”

“Butwhat ofmy two uncleswho camewith you, sir? Don’t theyknowthetruth?”

“Your uncles, brave as they were, became too sick to enter thecamp.So it’s just the twoofuswhomustkeep thesecret,andoncethewound’s healed there’s no need for anyone towonder about it.Keepitascleanasyoucan,andneverscratchit,bynightorday.Doyouunderstand?”

“Iunderstand,sir.”

Earlier, when they had been climbing the valleyside, and he hadstopped to wait for the two elderly Britons, Edwin had tried toremember the circumstances around the wound. On that occasion,standing amidst the stubbled heather, tugging the reins ofWistan’smare, nothing had formed clearly in his mind. But now, in thebranches of the elm, gazing at the tiny figures downon the bridge,Edwinfoundcomingbacktohimthedankairandblackness;thehighsmellofthebearskincoveringthelittlewoodencage;thefeelofthetiny beetles falling onto his head and shoulderswhen the cagewasjolted.Herecalledadjustinghispostureandgripping theshakygrid

beforehimtoavoidbeingtossedaboutasthecagedraggedalongtheground.Theneverythinghadbecome still again, andhehadwaitedforthebearskintoberemoved,forthecoldairtorushinaroundhim,andtoglimpsethenightbytheglowofthenearbyfire.Forthiswaswhathadhappened twicealready thatnight,and the repetitionhadremoved the edge fromhis fear.He rememberedmore: the stink ofthe ogres, and the vicious little creaturehurling itself at the ricketypolesofthecage,obligingEdwintopushasfarbackashecould.

Thecreaturehadmovedsoquicklyithadbeenhardtogetaclearviewofit.Hehadhadtheimpressionofsomethingthesizeandshapeofacockerel,thoughwithnobeakorfeathers.Itattackedwithteethandclaws,all the time lettingoutashrill squawking.Edwin trustedthewoodenpolesagainsttheteethandtheclaws,butnowandthen,thelittlecreature’stailwouldwhipbyaccidentagainstthecageandthen everything seemed much more vulnerable. Thankfully thecreature—still in its infancy, Edwin supposed—seemed oblivious ofthepowerinitstail.

Althoughatthetimetheseattacksseemedtogoonforever,Edwinnow supposed they had not lasted so long before the creature hadbeenpulledbackby its leash.Then thebearskinwould thumpoverhim, all would be blackness again, and he would have to grip thepolesasthecagewasdraggedtoanotherspot.

How often had he had to endure this sequence?Had it been justtwoorthreetimes?Orasoftenasten,oreventwelve?Perhapsafterthe first time he had fallen asleep, even in those conditions, anddreamttherestoftheattacks.

Then on that final occasion, the bearskin had not come off for along time. He had waited, listening to the creature’s squawks,sometimes far away, sometimes much closer, and the grumblingsoundstheogresmadewhentalkingtoeachother,andhehadknownthatsomethingdifferentwasabouttohappen.Andithadbeenduringthose moments of dreadful anticipation that he had asked for arescuer.Hehadmadetherequestfromthedepthsofhisbeing,soithadbeensomethingalmostlikeaprayer,andassoonasithadtakenshapeinhismind,hehadfeltcertainitwouldbegranted.

Atthatverymomentthecagehadbeguntotremble,andEdwinhadrealised the entire front section, with its protective grid, was beingdrawn aside. Even as this realisation made him shrink back, the

bearskinwaspulledoffandtheferociouscreatureflewathim.Inhissittingposition,hisinstinctwastoraisehisfeetandkickout,butthecreaturewasagile,andEdwin foundhimselfbeating itoffwith fistsandarms.Oncehethoughtthecreaturehadgotthebetterofhim,andhadforaninstantclosedhiseyes,butthenopenedthemagaintoseehisopponentclawingtheairastheleashdraggeditback.Itwasoneof the few times he had been permitted a good glimpse of thecreature, and he saw that his earlier impression had not beeninaccurate:itlookedlikeapluckedchicken,thoughwiththeheadofaserpent. Itcameforhimagain,andEdwinwasoncemorebeating itoffthebesthecould.Thenquitesuddenly,thecagefrontwasrestoredbeforehim,and thebearskinplungedhimback inblackness.And ithadonlybeen in themomentsafterwards,contorted inside the littlecage,thathehadfeltthetinglingonhisleftsidejustbeneaththeribs,andhadfeltthewetstickinessthere.

Edwin adjusted again his foothold within the elm, and bringingdownhisrighthand,touchedgentlyhiswound.Therewasnolongerany depth to the pain. During the climb up the valleyside, thecoarsenessofhisshirthadat timesmadehimgrimace,butwhenhewas still, as he was now, he could hardly feel a thing. Even thatmorning in the barn, when the warrior had examined it in thedoorway, ithad seemed littlemore thanaclusterof tinypunctures.Thewoundwas superficial—notasbadasmanyhehadhadbefore.Andyet,becausepeoplebelievedittobeanogre’sbite,ithadcausedall this trouble. Had he faced the creature with even moredetermination,perhapshecouldhaveavoidedreceivinganywoundatall.

Butheknewtherewasnoshame inhowhehad facedhisordeal.Hehadnevercriedout in terror,orpleaded to theogres formercy.After the little creature’s first lunges—which had taken him bysurprise—Edwinhadmetitwithheadheldup.Infacthehadhadthepresenceofmindtorealise thecreaturewasan infant,andthatonecouldinallprobabilitycreatefearinit,justasonemightinanunrulydog.Andsohehadkepthiseyesopenandtriedtostareitdown.Hisrealmother, he knew,would be particularly proud of him for this.Indeed,nowthathethoughtaboutit,thevenomhadgoneoutofthecreature’sattackssoonafteritsopeningforays,andithadbeenEdwinwho had gainedmore andmore control of the combat.He recalledagainthecreatureclawingtheair,anditseemedtohimnowlikelyit

hadnotbeendisplayinganeagernesstocontinuethefight,butsimplypanicatthechokingleash.Itwasquitepossible,infact,theogreshadjudged Edwin the victor of the encounter, and that was whyproceedingshadbeenbroughttoanend.

“I’vewatchedyou,boy,”oldSteffahadsaid.“Youhavesomethingrare. One day you’ll find someone to teach you the skills tomatchyourwarrior’s soul.Thenyou’llbeone to fear indeed.You’llnotbeonetohideinabarnwhilemerewolvesstrollunhinderedaboutthevillage.”

Now itwas all coming to pass. Thewarrior had chosenhim, andtheyweretogotogethertofulfilanerrand.Butwhatwastheirtask?Wistanhadnotmade itclear, sayingonly thathisking, faraway inthefenland,wasevennowwaitingtohearofitsconclusion.AndwhytravelwiththesetwoelderlyBritonswhorequiredrestateachturnoftheroad?

Edwingazeddownat them.Theywerenowdiscussing somethingearnestlywiththewarrior.Theoldwomanhadgivenuptryingtotalkhimdown,andallthreewerenowwatchingthesoldiersonthebridgefrom behind the cover of two giant pines. From his own vantagepoint,Edwincouldseetheriderhadremountedandwasgesticulatingintotheair.Thenthethreesoldiersappearedtomoveawayfromhim,andtheriderturnedhishorseandsetoffatagallopawayfromthebridge,backdownthemountain.

Edwinhadwonderedearlierwhythewarriorhadbeensoreluctanttostayonthemainmountainroad,insistingonthesteepcutupthevalleyside;nowitwasobvioushehadwishedtoavoidriderssuchastheonetheyhadjustseen.Buttherenowseemednowaytoproceedwiththeirjourneywithoutgoingdownontotheroadandcrossingthebridgepastthewaterfall,andthesoldierswerestillthere.HadWistanbeen able to see from down where he was that the rider haddeparted?Edwinwantedtoalerthimtothisdevelopment,butfeltheshouldnot shout from the tree in case the soldiers somehowcaughtthe sound.Hewould have to climb down and tellWistan. Perhaps,whiletherehadbeenfourpotentialopponents,thewarriorhadbeenhesitantaboutaconfrontation,butnowwithonlythreeatthebridge,hewouldconsidertheoddsinhisfavour.HaditjustbeenEdwinandthewarrior, theywould surely have gone down to face the soldierslong ago, but the presence of the elderly couple must have made

Wistancautious.NodoubtWistanhadbroughtthemalongforagoodreason, and they had so far been kind to Edwin, but they werefrustratingcompanionsallthesame.

Herememberedagainhisaunt’scontortedfeatures.Shehadstartedtoshriekacurseathim,butnoneofthatmatteredanymore.Forhewas with the warrior now, and he was travelling, just like his realmother.Whowastosaytheymightnotcomeacrossher?Shewouldbesoproudtoseehimstandingthere,sidebysidewiththewarrior.Andthemenwithherwouldtremble.

ChapterFive

Afterapunishingclimbformuchofthemorning,thepartyhadfounditswayobstructedbyafast-flowingriver.Sotheyhadmadeapartialdescentthroughshroudedwoodlandsinsearchofthemainmountainroad, along which, they reasoned, there would surely be a bridgeacrossthewater.

Theyhadbeenrightaboutthebridge,butonspottingthesoldiersthere, had decided to rest amidst the pine trees until the men hadgone.Foratfirstthesoldiershadnotappearedtobestationedthere,butmerelyrefreshingthemselvesandtheirhorsesatthewaterfall.Buttimehadpassedand the soldiershadshownnosignsofmovingon.Theywouldtaketurnsgettingontotheirbellies,reachingdownfromthe bridge and splashing themselves; or sitwith their backs againstthe timber rails, playing dice. Then a fourth man had arrived onhorseback,bringingthementotheirfeet,andhadissuedinstructionstothem.

Though they did not have as good a view as Edwin’s high in histree,Axl,Beatriceandthewarriorhadobservedwellenoughallthathad passed from behind their cover of greenery, and once thehorsemanhadriddenoffagain,exchangedquestioninglooks.

“Theymayremainalongtimeyet,”Wistansaid.“Andyou’rebothanxioustoreachthemonastery.”

“It’s desirablewe do so by nightfall, sir,” said Axl. “We hear theshe-dragon Querig roams that country, and only fools would beabroad there in the dark.Whatmanner of soldiers do you supposethemtobe?”

“Not easy at this distance, sir, and I’ve little knowledge of localdress.But I’dsupposethemBritons,andones loyal toLordBrennus.PerhapsMistressBeatricewillcorrectme.”

“It’sfarformyoldeyes,”Beatricesaid,“butI’dsupposeyouright,MasterWistan.TheyhavethedarkuniformsI’veoftenseenonLordBrennus’smen.”

“We’ve nothing to hide from them,” Axl said. “If we explain

ourselves,they’llletusgobyinpeace.”

“I’msurethat’sso,”thewarriorsaid,thenfellsilentforamoment,gazingdownatthebridge.Thesoldiershadseatedthemselvesagainand seemed to be resuming their game. “Even so,” hewent on, “ifwe’retocrossthebridgeundertheirgazes,letmeproposethismuch.Master Axl, you and Mistress Beatrice will lead the way and talkwisely to themen.Theboycanbring themarebehindyou,and I’llwalk beside him, my jaw slack like a fool’s, my eyes wanderingloosely.YoumusttellthesoldiersI’mamuteandahalf-wit,andtheboyandIarebrothers lentyouinplaceofdebtsowedyou.I’llhidethisswordandbeltdeepinthehorse’spack.Shouldtheyfindit,youmustclaimitasyourown.”

“Is such a play really necessary, MasterWistan?” Beatrice asked.“Thesesoldiersmayoftenshowcoarsemanners,butwe’vemetmanybeforewithoutincident.”

“No doubt, mistress. But men with arms, far from theircommanders,aren’teasytotrust.AndhereIam,astrangerwhotheymay think good sport to mock and challenge. So let’s call the boydownoffthetreeanddoasIpropose.”

Theyemergedfromthewoodsstillsomewayfromthebridge,butthesoldierssawthemimmediatelyandrosetotheirfeet.

“MasterWistan,”Beatricesaidquietly,“Ifearthiswillnotgowell.Thereremainssomethingaboutyouthatproclaimsyouawarrior,nomatterwhatfoolishlookyouwear.”

“I’m no skilled player, mistress. If you can help improve mydisguise,I’dhearitgladly.”

“It’s your stride, sir,” Beatrice said. “Youhave awarrior’sway ofwalking. Take instead small steps followed by a large one, thewayyoumightstumbleanymoment.”

“That’s good advice, thank you, mistress. Now I should say nomore, or theymay see I’mnomute.MasterAxl, talkuswiselypastthesefellows.”

As they came closer to the bridge, thenoise of thewater rushingdowntherocksandunderthefeetofthethreeawaitingsoldiersgrewmoreintense,andtoAxlhadsomethingominousaboutit.Heledthe

way, listening to thehorse’s stepsbehindhimon themossyground,andbroughtthemtoahaltwhentheywerewithinhailingdistanceofthemen.

Theyworenochainmailorhelmets,buttheiridenticaldarktunics,with straps crossing from right shoulder to left hip, declared clearlytheirtrade.Theirswordswerefornowsheathed,thoughtwoofthemwere waiting with hands on the hilts. One was small, stocky andmuscular; the other, a youth not much older than Edwin, was alsoshortinstature.Bothhadcloselycroppedhair.Incontrast,thethirdsoldierwastall,withlonggreyhair,carefullygroomed,thattouchedhisshouldersandwasheldbackbyadarkstringencirclinghisskull.Notonlyhisappearance,buthismannerdifferednoticeablyfromthatofhiscompanions;forwhilethelatterwerestandingstifflytobarthewayacrossthebridge,hehadremainedseveralpacesbehind,leaninglanguidlyagainstoneof thebridgeposts,arms foldedbeforehimasthoughlisteningtoatalebesideanightfire.

Thestockysoldier tookasteptowardsthem,so itwas tohimAxladdressed his words. “Good day, sirs. Wemean no harm and wishonlytoproceedinpeace.”

Thestockysoldiergavenoreply.Uncertaintywascrossinghisface,andheglaredatAxlwithamixtureofpanicandcontempt.Hecastaglancebacktotheyoungsoldierbehindhim,thenfindingnothingtoenlightenhim,returnedhisgazetoAxl.

ItoccurredtoAxltherehadbeensomeconfusion:thatthesoldiershad been expecting another party altogether, and had yet to realisetheirmistake.Sohesaid:“We’rejustsimplefarmers,sir,onourwaytoourson’svillage.”

The stocky soldier, now collecting himself, replied to Axl in anunnecessarily loud voice. “Who are these you travel with, farmer?Saxonsbythelookofthem.”

“Twobrothersjustcomeunderourcarewhowemustdoourbesttotrain.Thoughasyousee,one’sstillachild,andtheotheraslow-wittedmute,sotherelieftheybringusmaybeslender.”

As Axl said this, the tall grey-haired soldier, as though suddenlyremindedofsomething,tookhisweightfromthebridgepost,hisheadtilting in concentration. Meanwhile, the stocky soldier was staringangrilybeyondbothAxlandBeatrice.Then,hishandstillonthehilt

of his sword, he strode past to scrutinise the others. Edwin washolding the mare, and watched the oncoming soldier withexpressionless eyes.Wistan, though, was giggling loudly to himself,hiseyesroving,mouthwideopen.

The stocky soldier looked from one to the other as though for aclue.Thenhis frustrationseemed toget thebetterofhim.GrabbingWistan’shair,hetuggeditinarage.“Noonecutyourhair,Saxon?”he shouted into the warrior’s ear, then tugged again as though tobringWistantohisknees.Wistanstumbled,butmanagedtostayonhisfeet,lettingoutpitifulwhimpers.

“Hedoesn’tspeak,sir,”Beatricesaid.“Asyousee,he’ssimple.Hedoesn’tmindroughtreatment,buthe’sknownforatemperwe’veyettotame.”

As his wife spoke, a small movementmade Axl turn back to thesoldiersstillonthebridge.Hesawthenthatthetallgrey-hairedmanhadraisedanarm;hisfingersallbutformedapointingshapebeforesofteningandcollapsinginanaimlessgesture.Finallyhelethisarmfall altogether, though his eyeswent onwatchingwith disapproval.Observing this, Axl suddenly had the feeling he understood, evenrecognised, what the grey-haired soldier had just gone through: anangry reprimand had all but shaped itself on his lips, but he hadremembered in time that he lacked any formal authority over hisstocky colleague.Axlwas surehehadoncehad an almost identicalexperiencehimself somewhere,buthe forcedawaythe thought,andsaidinaconciliatorytone:

“Youmustbebusywithyourduties,gentlemen,andwe’resorrytodistractyou.Ifyou’dletuspass,we’llsoonbeoutofyourway.”

ButthestockysoldierwasstilltormentingWistan.“He’dbeunwisetolosehistemperwithme!”hebellowed.“Lethimdosoandtastehisprice!”

Then finally he let go of Wistan and strode back to take up hispositionagainon thebridge.Hesaidnothing, looking likeanangrymanwhohadcompletelyforgottenwhyhewasangry.

The noise of the rushing water seemed only to add to the tensemood, and Axl wondered how the soldiers would react were he toturn and lead the party back towards the woods. But just at thatmoment,thegrey-hairedsoldiercameforwarduntilhewaslevelwith

theothertwoandspokeforthefirsttime.

“This bridge has a few planks broken, uncle. Maybe that’s whywe’restandinghere,towarngoodpeoplelikeyourselvestocrosswithcare or be down themountainside tumblingwith the tide.” “That’skindofyou,sir.We’llgothenwithcaution.”

“Yourhorsethere,uncle.IthoughtIsawitlimpingcomingtowardsus.”

“Shehasahurtfoot,sir,butwehopeit’snoseriousthing,thoughwedon’tmounther,asyousee.”

“Thoseboardsarerottedwiththespray,andthat’swhywe’rehere,thoughmycomradesthinktherewassomefurthererrandmusthavebroughtus.SoI’llaskyou,uncle,ifyouandyourgoodwifehaveseenanystrangersonyourtravels.”

“We’re strangers here ourselves, sir,” Beatrice said, “so wouldn’tquickly know another. Though on two days’ journey we’ve seennothingoutoftheordinary.”

Noticing Beatrice, the grey-haired soldier’s eyes seemed to softenandsmile.“Alongwalkforawomanofyouryearstomaketoason’svillage,mistress.Wouldn’tyouratherbelivingtherewithhimwherehecanseetoyourcomfortseachday,insteadofhavingyouwalklikethis,unshelteredfromtheroad’sdangers?”

“Iwishitrightenough,sir,andwhenweseehim,myhusbandandIwilltalktohimofit.Butthenit’salongtimesincewesawhimandwecan’thelpwonderhowhe’llreceiveus.”

Thegrey-haired soldierwenton regardinghergently. “Itmaybe,mistress,”hesaid,“you’venotathingtoworryabout.I’mmyselffarfrom my mother and father, and not seen them in a long while.Perhapsharshwordsweresaidonce,whoknows?Butiftheycametofindmetomorrow,havingwalkedharddistancesasyou’redoingnow,do you doubt I’d receive themwithmy heart breaking with joy? Idon’tknowthekindofmanyoursonis,mistress,butI’dwagerhe’snotsodifferenttome,andthere’llbehappytearsnosoonerthanhefirstseesyou.”

“You’rekind to say so, sir,” saidBeatrice. “I supposeyou’re right,andmyhusbandandIhaveoftensaidasmuch,butit’sacomforttohearitsaid,andfromasonfarfromhomeatthat.”

“Goonyourjourneyinpeace,mistress.Andifbychanceyoucomeuponmyownmotherandfatherontheroad,comingtheotherway,speakgentlytothemandtellthemtopresson,fortheirjourneywon’tbeawastedone.”Thegrey-hairedsoldierstoodasidetoletthempass.“And please remember the unsteady boards. Uncle, you’d best leadthatmareoveryourself.It’snotaskforchildrenorGod’sfools.”

Thestockysoldier,whohadbeenwatchingwithadisgruntledair,seemedneverthelesstoyieldtothenaturalauthorityofhiscolleague.Turninghisbacktothemall,heleanedsulkilyovertherailtolookatthewater.Theyoungsoldierhesitated,thencametostandbesidethegrey-hairedman,andtheybothnoddedpolitelyasAxl,thankingthemalasttime,ledthemareoverthebridge,shieldinghereyesfromthedrop.

Once the soldiers and the bridge were no longer in sight, Wistanstoppedand suggested they leave themain road to followanarrowpathrisingupintothewoods.

“I’vealwayshadaninstinctformywaythroughaforest,”hesaid.“AndIfeelsurethispathwillallowustocutalargecorner.Besides,we’llbemuchsaferawayfromaroadsuchasthis,welltravelledbysoldiersandbandits.”

Forawhileafterthat,itwasthewarriorwholedtheparty,beatingbackbramblesandbusheswithastickhehadfound.Edwin,holdingthe mare by her muzzle, often whispering to her, followed closelybehind,sothatbythetimeAxlandBeatricecameintheirwake,thepathhadbeenmademucheasier.Evenso,theshortcut—ifshortcutit was—became increasingly arduous: the trees deepened aroundthem,tangledrootsandthistlesobligingthemtoattendtoeachstep.As was the custom, they conversed little as they went, but at onepoint,whenAxl andBeatrice had fallen someway behind, Beatricecalledback:“Areyoustillthere,Axl?”

“Still here, princess.” Indeed, Axl was just a few paces behind.“Don’t worry, these woods aren’t known for special dangers, and agoodwayfromtheGreatPlain.”

“Iwasjustthinking,Axl.Ourwarrior’snotabadplayeratthat.Hisdisguisemighthavehadmefooled,andneverlettingupwithit,evenwiththatbrutetugginghishair.”

“Heperformeditwell,rightenough.”

“Iwasthinking,Axl.It’llbealongtimewe’reawayfromourownvillage.Don’tyouthinkitawondertheyletusgowhenthere’sstillalot of planting to do, and fences and gates to be mended? Do yousupposethey’llbecomplainingofourabsencewhenwe’reneeded?”

“They’llbemissingus,nodoubt,princess.Butwe’renotawaylong,andthepastorunderstandsourwishingtoseeourownson.”

“I hope that’s right,Axl. Iwouldn’twant them sayingwe’re gonejustwhentheyhavemostneedofus.”

“There’ll always be some to say so, but the better of them willunderstandourneed,andwouldwantthesameinourplace.”

For a while they continued without talking. Then Beatrice saidagain:“Areyoustillthere,Axl?”

“Stillhere,princess.”

“Itwasn’trightofthem.Totakeawayourcandle.”

“Whocaresaboutthatnow,princess?Andthesummercoming.”

“Iwas remembering about it, Axl. And Iwas thinkingmaybe it’sbecauseofourlackofacandleIfirsttookthispainInowhave.”

“What’sthatyou’resaying,princess?Howcanthatbe?”

“I’mthinkingitwasmaybethedarknessdidit.”

“Gocarefullythroughthatblackthornthere.It’snotaspottotakeafall.”

“I’llbecareful,Axl,andyoudothesame.”

“Howcanitbethedarknessgaveyouthepain,princess?”

“Doyouremember,Axl,therewastalklastwinterofaspriteseennearourvillage?Weneversawitourselves,buttheysaiditwasonefondofthedark.Inallthosehourswehadofdarkness,I’mthinkingitmightsometimeshavebeenwithuswithoutourknowing,inourverychamber,andbroughtmethistrouble.”

“Wewouldhaveknownhaditbeenwithus,princess,darkornot.Eveninthickblackness,wewouldhavehearditmoveorgiveasigh.”

“NowIthinkofit,Axl,IthinkthereweretimeslastwinterIwokeinthenight,youfastasleepbesideme,andIwassureitwasastrange

noiseintheroomrousedme.”

“Likelyamouseorsomecreature,princess.”

“Itwasn’tthatkindofsound,anditwasmorethanonceIthoughtIheardit.AndnowI’mthinkingofit,itwasaroundthesametimethepainfirstcame.”

“Well,ifitwasthesprite,whatofit,princess?Yourpain’snothingmore than a tiny trouble, thework of a creaturemore playful thanevil, the same way some wicked child once left that rat’s head inMistressEnid’sweavingbasketjusttoseeherrunaboutinfright.”

“You’re right what you say there, Axl. More playful than evil. Isuppose you’re right. Even so, husband…”She fell silentwhile shenegotiatedherwaybetweentwoancienttrunkspressingagainsteachother.Thenshesaid:“Evenso,whenwegoback,Iwantacandleforournights.Idon’twantthatspriteoranyotherbringingussomethingworse.”

“We’ll see to it, don’tworry, princess.We’ll talk to the pastor assoonaswereturn.Butthemonksatthemonasterywillgiveyouwiseadviceaboutyourpain,andthere’llbenolastingmischiefdone.”

“Iknowit,Axl.It’snotathingtoworrymegreatly.”

ItwashardtosayifWistanhadbeenrightabouthispathcuttingoffacorner,butinanycase,shortlyaftermidday,theyemergedoutofthewoodsbackontothemainroad.Hereitwaswheel-ruttedandboggyinparts,butnowtheycouldwalkmorefreely,andintimethepathgrew drier andmore level.With a pleasant sun falling through theoverhangingbranches,theytravelledingoodspirits.

ThenWistanbroughtthemtoahaltagainandindicatedthegroundbeforethem.“There’sasolitaryridernotfarbeforeus,”hesaid.Andthey did not go much further before they saw ahead of them aclearing to the side of their road, and fresh tracks turning into it.Exchangingglances,theysteppedforwardscautiously.

Astheclearingcamemoreintoview,theysawitwasofafairsize:perhapsonce,inmoreprosperoustimes,someonehadhopedtobuildahouseherewithasurroundingorchard.Thepath leadingoff fromthemainroad,thoughovergrown,hadbeendugwithcare,endingina largecirculararea,open to the skyexcept foronehuge spreading

oakatitscentre.Fromwheretheynowstood,theycouldseeafigureseatedintheshadowsofthetree,hisbackagainstthetrunk.Hewasforthemomentinprofiletothem,andappearedtobeinarmour:twometallegsstuckoutstifflyontothegrassinachildlikeway.Thefaceitselfwas obscured by foliage sprouting from the bark, though theycould see he wore no helmet. A saddled horse was grazingcontentedlynearby.

“Declarewhoyouare!”themancalledoutfromunderthetree.“AllbanditsandthievesI’llrisetomeetswordinhand!”

“Answerhim,MasterAxl,”Wistanwhispered.“Let’sdiscoverwhathe’sabout.”

“We’resimplewayfarers,sir,”Axlcalledback.“Wewishonlytogobyinpeace.”

“Howmanyareyou?AndisthatahorseIhear?”

“A limping one, sir. Otherwisewe are four.Mywife and I beingelderlyBritons,andwithusabeardlessboyandahalf-witmutelatelygivenusbytheirSaxonkin.”

“Then come over tome, friends! I have bread here to share, andyoumustlongforrest,asIdoforyourcompany.”

“Shallwegotohim,Axl?”Beatriceasked.

“I say we do,” Wistan said, before Axl could respond. “He’s nodanger to us and sounds aman of decent years. All the same, let’sperform our drama as before. I’ll oncemore affect a slack jaw andfoolisheyes.”

“Butthismanisarmouredandarmed,sir,”Beatricesaid.“Areyoucertainyourownweaponisreadyenough,packedonahorseamidstblanketsandhoneypots?”

“It’swellmysword’shiddenfromsuspiciouseyes,mistress.AndI’llfind it soonenoughwhen Ineed it.YoungEdwinwillhold the reinandseethemaredoesn’tstraytoofarfromme.”

“Comeforth,friends!”thestrangershouted,notadjustinghisrigidposture. “Noharmwill come toyou! I’maknightandaBriton too.Armed,it’strue,butcomecloserandyou’llseeI’mjustawhiskeryoldfool.ThisswordandarmourIcarryonlyoutofdutytomyking,thegreatandbelovedArthur,nowmanyyearsinheaven,andit’salmost

aslongsurelysinceIdrewinanger.Myoldbattlehorse,Horace,youseehimthere.He’shadtosuffertheburdenofallthismetal.Lookathim,hislegsbowed,backsunk.Oh,IknowhowmuchhesufferseachtimeImount.Buthehasagreatheart,myHorace,andIknowhe’dhaveitnootherway.We’lltravellikethis,infullarmour,inthenameof our great king, andwill do so till neither of us can take anotherstep.Comefriends,don’tfearme!”

Theyturnedintotheclearing,andastheyapproachedtheoak,Axlsawthatindeed,theknightwasnothreateningfigure.Heappearedtobevery tall,butbeneathhisarmourAxlsupposedhimthin, ifwiry.Hisarmourwasfrayedandrusted,thoughnodoubthehaddoneallhe could to preserve it. His tunic, once white, showed repeatedmending. The face protruding from the armour was kindly andcreased;aboveit,severallongstrandsofsnowyhairflutteredfromanotherwisebaldhead.Hemighthavebeena sorry sight, fixed to theground, legs splayedbeforehim,except that the sun falling throughthe branches abovewas now dappling him in patterns of light andshadethatmadehimlookalmostlikeoneenthroned.

“Poor Horace missed his breakfast this morning, for we were onrocky ground when we awoke. Then I was so keen to press on allmorning,andIadmitit,inanilltemper.Iwouldn’tlethimstop.Hissteps grew slower, but I know his tricks well enough by now, andwouldhavenoneofit.Iknowyou’renotweary!Itoldhim,andgavehima littlespur.These tricksheplaysonme, friends, Iwon’t standforthem!Butslowerandslowerhegoes,andsoft-heartedfoolIam,evenknowingfullwellhe’slaughingtohimself,Irelentandsay,verywell,Horace,stopandfeedyourself.Sohereyoufindme,takenforafoolagain.Come, joinme, friends.”Hereachedforward,hisarmourcomplaining,andremovedaloaffromasackinthegrassbeforehim.“This is fresh baked, given to me passing a mill not an hour ago.Come,friends,sitbesidemeandshareit.”

Axl held Beatrice’s arm as she lowered herself down onto thegnarledrootsof theoak, thenhesatdownhimselfbetweenhiswifeand theoldknight.He felt immediately grateful for themossybarkbehind him, the songbirds jostling above, and when the bread waspassed, it was soft and fresh. Beatrice leant her head against hisshoulder,andherchestroseandfellforawhilebeforeshetoobegantoeatwithrelish.

ButWistanhadnotsatdown.Aftergiggling,andotherwiseamplydisplaying his idiocy to the old knight, he had wandered away towhereEdwinwas standing in the tall grass, holdinghismare.ThenBeatrice,finishingherbread,satforwardtoaddressthestranger.

“Youmustforgivemynotgreetingyousooner,sir,”shesaid.“Butit’snotoftenweseeaknightandIwasawe-struckbythethought.Ihopeyouweren’toffended.”

“Not offended at all,mistress, and glad of your company. Is yourjourneystillalongone?”

“Our son’s village is another day away now we’re come by themountainroad,wishingtovisitawisemonkatthemonasteryinthesehills.”

“Ah,theholyfathers.I’msurethey’llreceiveyoukindly.TheywereagreathelptoHoracelastspringwhenhehadapoisonedhoofandIfeared he wouldn’t be spared. And I myself, recovering some yearsagofromafall,foundmuchcomfortintheirbalms.Butifyouseekacureforyourmute,Ifearit’sonlyGodhimselfcanbringspeechtohislips.”

TheknighthadsaidthisglancingtowardsWistan,onlytofindthelatter walking towards him, the foolish look vanished from hisfeatures.

“Allowmethentosurpriseyou,sir,”hesaid.“Speechisrestoredtome.”

The old knight started, then, armour creaking, twisted round toglareenquiringlyatAxl.

“Don’tblamemyfriends,sirknight,”Wistansaid.“TheywereonlydoingasIbeggedthem.Butnowthere’snocausetofearyou,Iwouldcastoffmydisguise.Pleaseforgiveme.”

“Idon’tmind,sir,”theoldknightsaid,“forit’saswellinthisworldtobecautious.ButtellmenowwhatsortyouarethatIinturnhavenocausetofearyou.”

“Thename isWistan, sir, from the fenlands in theeast, travellingthesepartsonmyking’serrand.”

“Ah.Farfromhomeindeed.”

“Farfromhome,sir,andtheseroadsshouldbestrangetome.Yetat

eachturnit’sasifanotherdistantmemorystirs.”

“Itmustbethen,sir,youcamethiswaybefore.”

“It must be so, and I heard I was born not in the fens but in acountry furtherwest of here.All themore fortunate then to chanceuponyou, sir, supposingyoumightbeSirGawain, fromthose samewesternlands,wellknowntorideintheseparts.”

“I’mGawain, right enough,nephewof thegreatArthurwhoonceruled these landswith suchwisdomand justice. Iwas settledmanyyearsinthewest,butthesedaysHoraceandItravelwherewemay.”

“Ifmyhoursweremyown,I’dridewestthisverydayandbreathethe air of that country. But I’m obliged to completemy errand andhurrybackwithnewsofit.Yetit’sanhonourindeedtomeetaknightof the great Arthur, and a nephew at that. Saxon though I am, hisnameisoneIholdinesteem.”

“Itakepleasureinhearingyousayso,sir.”

“SirGawain,withmyspeechsomiraculouslyrestored,Iwouldaskasmallquestionofyou.”

“Askfreely.”

“This gentlemannow sits beside you, he’s the goodMasterAxl, afarmer from a Christian village two days away. A man of familiaryearstoyourself.SirGawain,Iaskyounow,turnandlookcarefullyathim.Ishisfaceoneyou’veseenbefore,thoughalongtimeago?”

“Good heavens, Master Wistan!” Beatrice, who Axl thought hadfallenasleep,wasleaningforwardagain.“Whatisthisyouask?”

“Imeannoharm,mistress.SirGawainbeingfromthewestcountry,I fancy he might have glimpsed your husband in days past. Whatharm’sinit?”

“MasterWistan,”Axlsaid,“I’veseenyoulookstrangelyatmefromtimetotimesinceourfirstmeeting,andwaitedforsomeaccountofit.Whatisityoubelievemetobe?”

Wistan,whohadbeenstandingoverwheretheyweresittingthreeabreast beneath the great oak, now crouched down onto his heels.Perhapshehaddonesotoappearlesschallenging,buttoAxlitwasalmost as if the warrior was wishing to scrutinise their faces moreclosely.

“Let’sfornowhaveSirGawaindoasIask,”Wistansaid,“andit’sonlyasmallturnofhisheadneeded.Seeitasachildishgameifyouwill.Ibegyou,sir,lookatthismanbesideyouandsayifyou’veeverseenhimindayspast.”

Sir Gawain gave a chuckle, and moved his torso forward. Heseemed eager for amusement, as though indeed he had just beeninvited toparticipate inagame.Butashegazed intoAxl’s face,hisexpression changed to one of surprise—even of shock. Instinctively,Axl turned away, just as the old knight appeared almost to pushhimselfbackwardsintothetreetrunk.

“Well,sir?”Wistanasked,watchingwithinterest.

“I don’t believe this gentleman and I met till today,” said SirGawain.

“Areyousure?Theyearscanbearichdisguise.”

“MasterWistan,”Beatriceinterrupted,“whatisityousearchforinmy husband’s face?Why ask such a thing of this kind knight, untilthismomentastrangertousall?”

“Forgive me, mistress. This country awakens so many memories,though each seems like some restless sparrow I knowwill flee anymomentintothebreeze.Yourhusband’sfacehasalldaypromisedmeanimportantremembrance,andiftruthbetold,thatwasareasonformyproposing to travelwithyou, thoughI sincerelywish toseeyoubothsafelythroughthesewildroads.”

“Butwhywould you knowmyhusband from thewestwhen he’salwayslivedincountrynearby?”

“Never mind it, princess. Master Wistan has confused me forsomeoneheonceknew.”

“That’swhat itmust be, friends!” said SirGawain. “Horace and Ioftenmistakea face forone fromthepast.See there,Horace, I say.That’souroldfriendTudurbeforeusontheroad,andwethoughthefellatMountBadon.ThenweridecloserandHoracewillgiveasnort,asiftosay,whatafoolyouare,Gawain,thisfellow’syoungenoughtobehisgrandson,andwithnotevenapassinglikeness!”

“Master Wistan,” Beatrice said, “tell me this much. Does myhusband remind you of one you loved as a child? Or is it one you

dreaded?”

“Bestleaveitnow,princess.”

ButWistan,rockinggentlyonhisheels,wasgazingsteadilyatAxl.“I believe it must be one I loved, mistress. For when we met thismorning,myheartleaptforjoy.Andyetbeforelong…”Hewentonlooking at Axl silently, his eyes almost dreamlike. Then his facedarkened, and rising to his feet again, the warrior turned away. “Ican’tansweryou,MistressBeatrice,forIknownotmyself.Isupposedbytravellingbesideyouthememorieswouldawaken,butthey’venotyetdoneso.SirGawain,areyouwell?”

Indeed, Gawain had slumped forward. He now straightened andbreathedasigh.“Wellenough,thankyouforasking.YetHoraceandIhavegonemanynightswithoutasoftbedordecentshelter,andwe’rebothweary.That’sallthereistoit.”Heraisedhishandandcaressedaspot on his forehead, though his real purpose, it occurred to Axl,mighthavebeentoobscurehisviewofthefacebesidehim.

“Master Wistan,” Axl said, “since we’re now speaking frankly,perhaps Imay in turn ask something of you.You say you’re in thiscountry on your king’s errand. But why so anxious to adopt yourdisguisetravellingthroughacountrylongsettledinpeace?Ifmywifeandthatpoorboyaretotravelbesideyou,we’dwishtoknowthefullnatureofourcompanion,andwhohisfriendsandenemiesmightbe.”

“Youspeakfairly,sir.Thiscountry,asyousay,iswellsettledandatpeace.YethereIamaSaxoncrossinglandsruledbyBritons,andinthesepartsbytheLordBrennus,whoseguardsroamboldlytogathertheir taxes of corn and livestock. Iwish no quarrel of the sortmaycomefromamisunderstanding.Hencemydisguise,sir,andwe’llallofusmovemoresafelyforit.”

“You may be right, Master Wistan,” Axl said. “Yet I saw on thebridgeLordBrennus’sguardsseemednottobepassingtheirtimeidly,but stationed there for a purpose, and if not for the mist cloudingtheirminds, theymighthavetestedyoumoreclosely.Canitbe,sir,you’resomeenemytoLordBrennus?”

ForamomentWistanappearedlost inthought, followingwithhiseyesoneofthegnarledrootsstretchingfromtheoak’strunkandpastwherehestood,beforeburrowingitselfintotheearth.Eventuallyhecameneareragain,andthistimesatdownonthestubbledgrass.

“Very well, sir,” he said, “I’ll speak fully. I don’t mind doing sobeforeyouand this fineknight.We’veheard rumours in theeastofour fellow Saxons across this land ill used by Britons. My king,worryingforhiskin,sentmeonthismissiontoobservetherealstateof affairs. That’s all I am, sir, and was going about my errandpeaceablywhenmyhorsehurtherfoot.”

“Iunderstandwellyourposition,sir,”saidGawain.“HoraceandIoften findourselvesonSaxon-governed landand feel thesameneedfor caution. Then I wish to be rid of this armour and taken for ahumble farmer.But ifwe left thismetal somewhere,howwouldweeverfinditagain?Andeventhoughit’syearssinceArthurfell,isn’titourdutystilltowearhiscrestwithprideforalltosee?SowegoonboldlyandwhenmenseeI’maknightofArthur,I’mhappytoreporttheylookonusgently.”

“It’s no surprise you’re welcomed in these parts, Sir Gawain,”Wistansaid.“Butcan it reallybe thesame in thosecountrieswhereArthurwasoncesuchadreadedenemy?”

“Horaceand I findourking’snamewell receivedeverywhere, sir,eveninthosecountriesyoumention.ForArthurwasonesogeneroustothosehedefeatedtheysoongrewtolovehimastheirown.”

For some time—in fact, ever since Arthur’s name had first beenmentioned—anagging,uneasyfeelinghadbeentroublingAxl.Nowatlast, ashe listened toWistanand theoldknight talk, a fragmentofmemory came to him. Itwas notmuch, but it nevertheless broughthim relief to have something to hold and examine.He rememberedstandinginsideatent,alargeoneofthesortanarmywillerectnearabattlefield.Itwasnight,andtherewasaheavycandleflickering,andthewindoutsidemakingthetent’swallssuckandbillow.Therewereothersinthetentwithhim.Severalothers,perhaps,buthecouldnotremembertheirfaces.He,Axl,wasangryaboutsomething,buthehadunderstood the importance of hiding his anger at least for the timebeing.

“MasterWistan,”Beatricewassayingbesidehim,“letmetellyouinour own village there are several Saxon families among the mostrespected. And you saw yourself the Saxon village from which wecametoday.Thosepeopleprosper,andthoughtheysometimessufferatthehandsoffiendssuchasthoseyousobravelyputdown,it’snotbyanyBriton.”

“The good mistress speaks truly,” Sir Gawain said. “Our belovedArthur brought lasting peace here between Briton and Saxon, andthoughwestillhearofwars indistantplaces,herewe’ve longbeenfriendsandkin.”

“AllI’veseenagreewithyourwords,”Wistansaid,“andI’meagertocarrybackahappyreport,thoughI’veyettoseethelandsbeyondthesehills. SirGawain, Idon’tknow if everagain I’llbe free toaskthis of one sowise, so letmedo so now.Bywhat strange skill didyourgreatkinghealthescarsofwarintheselandsthatatravellercanseebarelyamarkorshadowleftofthemtoday?”

“Thequestiondoesyoucredit,sir.MyreplyisthatmyunclewasarulerneverthoughthimselfgreaterthanGod,andalwaysprayedforguidance.Soitwasthattheconquered,nolessthanthosewhofoughtathisside,sawhisfairnessandwishedhimastheirking.”

“Even so, sir, isn’t it a strange thing when a man calls anotherbrotherwhoonlyyesterdayslaughteredhischildren?Andyetthis istheverythingArthurappearstohaveaccomplished.”

“You touch the heart of it just there, Master Wistan. Slaughterchildren,yousay.AndyetArthurchargedusatalltimestosparetheinnocentscaughtintheclatterofwar.More,sir,hecommandedustorescueandgivesanctuarywhenwecouldtoallwomen,childrenandelderly,betheyBritonorSaxon.Onsuchactionswerebondsoftrustbuilt,evenasbattlesraged.”

“What you say rings true, and yet it still seems to me a curiouswonder,”Wistan said. “Master Axl, do you not feel it a remarkablething,howArthurhasunitedthiscountry?”

“MasterWistan,onceagain,”Beatriceexclaimed,“whodoyoutakemyhusbandtobe?Heknowsnothing,sir,ofthewars!”

But suddenlynoonewas listeninganymore, forEdwin,whohaddrifted back to the road, was now shouting, and then came thebeatingofrapidlyapproachinghooves.Laterwhenhethoughtbacktoit, it occurred to Axl that Wistan must indeed have becomepreoccupied with his curious speculations about the past, for theusuallyalertwarriorhadbarely risen tohis feet as the rider turnedintotheclearing,thenslowingthehorsewithadmirablecontrol,cametrottingtowardsthegreatoak.

Axl recognised immediately the tall, grey-haired soldier who hadspoken courteously to Beatrice at the bridge. The man still wore afaintsmile,butwasapproachingthemwithhissworddrawn,thoughpointed downwards, the hilt resting on the edge of the saddle. Hecame to ahaltwhere just a fewmoreof the animal’s strideswouldhave brought him to the tree. “Good day, Sir Gawain,” he said,bowinghisheadalittle.

Theoldknightgazedupcontemptuouslyfromwherehesat.“Whatdoyoumeanbythis,sir,arrivinghereswordunsheathed?”

“Forgiveme,SirGawain.Iwishonlytoquestionthesecompanionsofyours.”HelookeddownatWistan,whohadagainlethisjawdropslackly,andwasgiggling tohimself.Without takinghiseyesoff thewarrior, the soldier shouted: “Boy,move that horse no closer!” Forindeed,behindhim,EdwinhadbeenapproachingwithWistan’smare.“Hearme,lad!Letgothereinandcomestandherebeforemebesideyouridiotbrother.I’mwaiting,lad.”

Edwin appeared to comprehend the soldier’s wishes, if not hisactualwords,forheleftthemareandcametojoinWistan.Ashedidso,thesoldieradjustedslightlythepositionofhishorse.Axl,noticingthis, understood immediately that the soldier was maintaining aparticular angle and distance between himself and his charges thatwouldgivehimthegreatestadvantageintheeventofsuddenconflict.Before,withWistanstandingwherehewas,theheadandneckofthesoldier’sownhorsewouldmomentarilyhaveobstructedhisfirstswingofthesword,givingWistanvitaltimeeithertounsettlethehorse,orruntoitsblindside,wherethesword’sreachwasdiminishedinscopeand power by having to be brought across the body. But now thesmall adjusting of the horse hadmade it practically suicidal for anunarmedman, asWistanwas, to storm the rider. The soldier’s newpositionseemedalsotohavetakenexpertaccountofWistan’smare,loosesomedistancebehindthesoldier’sback.Wistanwasnowunableto run for his horse without describing a wide curve to avoid thesword sideof the rider,making it anear-certaintyhewouldbe runthroughfrombehindbeforereachinghisdestination.

Axl noted all this with a sense of admiration for the soldier’sstrategicskill,aswellasdismayatitsimplications.TherehadbeenatimewhenAxl, too,hadoncenudgedhishorse forward, in anothersmall but subtly vital manoeuvre, bringing himself in line with a

fellowrider.Whathadhebeendoingthatday?Thetwoofthem,heandtheotherrider,hadbeenwaitingonhorseback,staringoutacrossavastgreymoor.Untilthatmomenthiscompanion’shorsehadbeeninfront,forAxlremembereditstailflickingandswayingbeforehim,and wondering how much of this action was due to the animal’sreflexes,andhowmuchtothefiercewindsweepingacrosstheemptyland.

Axlpushedthesepuzzlingthoughtsawayashestruggledtohisfeet,thenhelpeduphiswife.SirGawainremainedseated,apparentlystuckto the foot of the oak, glowering at the newcomer. Then he saidquietlytoAxl:“Sir,helpmerise.”

It took both Axl and Beatrice, one on each arm, to bring the oldknighttohisfeet,butwhenfinallyhestraightenedtohisfullheightinhisarmourandpulledbackhisshoulders,hewasanimpressivesight.But SirGawain seemed content to staremoodily at the soldier, andeventuallyitwasAxlwhospoke.

“Why do you come upon us like this, sir, and we but simplewayfarers? Do you not remember how you quizzed us not an hourbeforebythewaterfall?”

“I recall you well, uncle,” the grey-haired soldier said. “Thoughwhenwelastmetastrangespellhadfallenonusguardingthebridgethat we forgot our very purpose being there. Only now, my postrelievedandridingtoourcamp,itallsuddenlyreturnstome.ThenIthought of you, uncle, and your party slipping past, and turnedmyhorse to hurry after you. Boy! Don’t wander, I say! Remain besideyouridiotbrother!”

Edwin sulkily returned toWistan’s side and looked enquiringly atthe warrior. The latter was still giggling quietly, a line of salivaspillingfromonecornerofhismouth.Hiseyeswereroamingwildly,butAxlguessedthewarriorwasinfacttakingcarefulmeasureofthedistancetohisownhorse,andtheproximityofhisopponent,andinallprobabilitycomingtothesameconclusionsasAxl’s.

“Sir Gawain,” Axlwhispered. “If there’s to be trouble now, I begyouassistmetodefendmygoodwifehere.”

“I’lldosoonmyhonour,sir.Restassuredofit.”

Axl nodded gratefully, but now the grey-haired soldier was

dismounting.AgainAxlfoundhimselfadmiringtheskilfulwayhedidthis,sothatwhenfinallyhestoodtofaceWistanandtheboy,hewasonce more at exactly the correct distance and angle to them; hissword,moreover,wascarriedsoasnottoexhausthisarm,whilehishorseshieldedhimfromanyunexpectedassaultfromtherear.

“I’lltellyouwhatslippedourmindwhenwelastmet,uncle.We’djust receivedwordof a Saxonwarrior left anearbyvillagebringingwithhimawounded lad.”The soldiernoddedatEdwin. “A lad theage of that one there. Now, uncle, I don’t knowwhat you and thegoodwomanhereare to thismatter. I seekonly this Saxonandhislad.Speakfranklyandnoharmwillvisityou.”

“There’snowarriorhere, sir.Andwe’venoquarrelwithyou,norwithLordBrennuswhoIsupposetobeyourmaster.”

“Do you know what you speak of, uncle? Lend a mask to ourenemiesandyou’llanswertous,whateveryouryears.Whoaretheseyoutravelwith,thismuteandthislad?”

“AsIsaidbefore,sir,they’regiventousbydebtors,inplaceofcornandtin.They’llworkayeartopaytheirfamily’sdebt.”

“Sureyou’renotmistaken,uncle?”

“I know not whom you seek, sir, but it wouldn’t be these poorSaxons.Andwhileyouspendyourtimewithus,yourenemiesmovefreelyelsewhere.”

The soldier gave this consideration—Axl’s voice had carriedunexpectedauthority—uncertaintyenteringhismanner.“SirGawain,”heasked.“Whatdoyouknowofthesepeople?”

“TheychancedonusasHoraceandIrestedhere.Ibelievethemtobesimplecreatures.”

ThesoldieroncemorescrutinisedWistan’sfeatures.“Amutefool,isit?”Hetooktwostepsforwardandraisedtheswordsothepointwasaimed atWistan’s throat. “But he surely fears death like the rest ofus.”

Axlsawthatforthefirsttimethesoldierhadmadeanerror.Hehadcometooclosetohisopponent,andalthoughitwouldbeahideousrisk, itwas now conceivable forWistan tomove very suddenly andseize the arm holding the sword before it could strike. Wistan,

however,wentongiggling,thensmiledfoolishlyatEdwinbesidehim.Thislatestaction,however,seemedtoarouseSirGawain’sanger.

“Theymaybestrangers tomeonlyanhourago, sir,”heboomed.“ButI’llnotseethemtreatedwithrudeness.”

“Thisdoesn’tconcernyou,SirGawain. Iwouldaskyoutoremainsilent.”

“DoyoudarespeaktoaknightofArthurthatway,sir?”

“Can it be possible,” the soldier said, completely ignoring SirGawain,“thisidiothereisawarriordisguised?Withnoweaponabouthim,itmakeslittledifference.Mine’sabladesharpenoughwhicheverhemaybe.”

“Howdarehe!”SirGawainmutteredtohimself.

Thegrey-haired soldier,perhaps suddenly realisinghiserror, tooktwo paces back till he was exactly where he had been before, andlowered the sword towaistheight. “Boy,”he said. “Step forward tome.”

“HespeaksonlytheSaxontongue,sir,andashyboytoo,”Axlsaid.

“Heneedn’tspeak,uncle.Onlyraisehisshirtandwe’llknowifhe’stheoneleftthevillagewiththewarrior.Boy,astepclosertome.”

AsEdwincamenearerthesoldierreachedoutwithhisfreehand.AtussleensuedasEdwintriedto fighthimoff,but theshirtwassoondraggeduptheboy’storso,andAxlsaw,alittlewaybelowtheribs,aswollenpatchofskinencircledbytinydotsofdriedblood.Oneitherside of him, Beatrice andGawainwere now leaning forward to seebetter,but the soldierhimself, reluctant to takehisgazeoffWistan,didnotglanceatthewoundforsometime.Whenfinallyhedidso,hewas obliged to make a swift turn of his head, and at that verymoment, Edwin produced a piercing, high-pitched noise—not ascreamexactly,butsomethingthatremindedAxlofaforlornfox.Thesoldier was for an instant distracted by it, and Edwin seized thechance to break fromhis grasp.Only then didAxl realise the noisewascomingnotfromtheboy,butfromWistan;andthatinresponse,the warrior’s mare, until then languidly munching the ground, hadsuddenlyturnedandwaschargingstraightforthem.

Thesoldier’sownhorsehadmadeapanickedmotionbehindhim,

causing him further confusion, and by the time he had recovered,Wistanhadgoneclearofthesword’sreach.Themarekeptcomingatdauntingspeed,andWistan,feintingoneway,thenmovingtheother,produced another shrill call. Themare slowed to a canter, bringingherselfbetweenWistanandhisopponent,enablingthewarrior,inanalmostleisurelymanner,totakeupapositionseveralstridesfromtheoak.Themareturnedagain,movingsmartlyinpursuitofhermaster.AxlsupposedWistan’sintentionwastomounttheanimalasshecamepast,forthewarriorwasnowwaiting,botharmspoisedintheair.Axleven saw him reach towards the saddle just before the maremomentarilyobscuredhimfromview.Butthenthehorsecanteredonriderless towards the spotwhere so recently she had been enjoyingthe grass.Wistanhad remained standingquite still, but nowwith aswordinhishand.

A small exclamation escaped Beatrice, and Axl, placing an armaround her, drew her closer. On his other side, Gawain made agrunting noisewhich seemed to signify his appreciation ofWistan’smanoeuvre.Theoldknighthadplacedafootupononeoftheraisedrootsoftheoak,andwaswatchingwithkeeninterest,ahandonhisknee.

Thegrey-hairedsoldier’sbackwasnowturnedtothem:inthis,ofcourse,hehadhad littlechoice, forhehadnowto faceWistan.Axlwassurprisedtoseethatthissoldier,socontrolledandexpertonlyamomentago,hadbecomequitedisorientated.Hewaslookingtowardshishorse—whichhadtrottedsomewayawayinpanic—asthoughforreassurance,thenraisedhissword,thetipjustabovethelevelofhisshoulder, gripping tightlywith both hands. This posture, Axl knew,waspremature,andwouldonlyexhaust thearmmuscles.Wistan, incontrast, looked calm, almost nonchalant, just as he had done thepreviousnightwhentheyhadfirstglimpsedhimsettingoffoutofthevillage. He came slowly towards the soldier, stopping a few stepsbeforehim,swordheldlowinjustonehand.

“SirGawain,”thesoldiersaid,anewnoteinhisvoice,“Ihearyoumoveatmyback.Doyoustandwithmeagainstthisfoe?”

“Istandheretoprotectthisgoodcouple,sir.Otherwise,thisdisputeisnotmyconcern,asyousolatelyreported.Thiswarriormaybeyourfoe,butheisn’tyetmine.”

“This fellow’s a Saxon warrior, Sir Gawain, and here to do us

mischief.Helpmefacehim,forthoughI’mkeentodomyduty,ifthisisthemanweseekhe’safearfulfellowbyallaccounts.”

“WhatreasonhaveItotakearmsagainstamansimplyforbeingastranger? It’s you, sir, came into this tranquil placewith your rudemanners.”

Therewassilenceforawhile.ThenthesoldiersaidtoWistan:“Doyou stay mute, sir? Or will you reveal yourself now we face oneanother!”

“I’mWistan, sir, a warrior from the east visiting this country. ItseemsyourLordBrennuswouldhavemehurt,thoughforwhatreasonIknownotsinceItravelinpeaceonanerrandformyking.Andit’smybeliefyoumeantoharmthatinnocentboy,andseeingthisImustnowfrustrateyou.”

“Sir Gawain,” the soldier cried, “will you come to the aid of afellowBriton, I ask you once again. If this isWistan, it’s saidmorethanfiftyNorsemenhavefallenbyhishandalone.”

“IffiftyfierceVikingsfelltohim,whatdifferencecanoneoldandwearyknightmaketotheoutcomenow,sir?”

“Ibegyou,donotjest,SirGawain.Thisisawildfellow,andhe’llstrike at any moment. I see it in his eye. He’s here to do us allmischief,Itellyou.”

“Name the mischief I bring,” Wistan said, “travelling peacefullythrough your country, a single sword inmy pack to defend againstwildcreaturesandbandits.Ifyoucannamemycrime,dosonow,forI’dhearthechargebeforeIstrikeyou.”

“I’m ignorant of the nature of your mischief, sir, but have faithenoughinLordBrennus’sdesiretobefreeofyou.”

“Nochargetoname,then,yetyouhurryheretoslayme.”

“SirGawain,Ibegyouhelpme!Fierceasheis,thetwoofuswithcarefulstrategymightovercomehim.”

“Sir, letmeremindyou, I’maknightofArthur,no footsoldierofyourLordBrennus.Idon’ttakeuparmsagainststrangersonrumouror for their foreignblood.And it seems tomeyou’reunable togivegoodcausefortakingagainsthim.”

“You forceme to speak then, sir, though these are confidences to

whichamanofmyhumblerankhasnoright,even ifLordBrennushimself let me hear them. This man is come to this country on amissiontoslaythedragonQuerig.Thisiswhatbringshimhere!”

“Slay Querig?” Sir Gawain sounded genuinely dumbfounded. HestrodeforwardfromthetreeandstaredatWistanasifseeinghimforthefirsttime.“Isthistrue,sir?”

“I’ve no wish to lie to a knight of Arthur, so let me declare it.Furthertomydutyreportedearlier,I’vebeenchargedbymykingtoslay the she-dragon roams this country. But what objection couldtherebetosuchatask?Afiercedragonbringingdangertoallalike.Tellme,soldier,whyisitsuchamissionmakesmeyourenemy?”

“SlayQuerig?!You reallymean to slayQuerig?!” SirGawainwasnowshouting.“Butsir,thisisamissionentrustedtome!Doyounotknowthis?AmissionentrustedtomebyArthurhimself!”

“Adispute forsomeother time,SirGawain.Letmefirstattendtothis soldierwhowouldmakeanenemyofmeandmy friendswhenwewouldgobyinpeace.”

“Sir Gawain, if you’ll not come tomy aid, I fear this ismy finalhour!Iimploreyou,sir,remembertheaffectionLordBrennushasforArthurandhismemoryandtakearmsagainstthisSaxon!”

“ItismydutytoslayQuerig,MasterWistan!HoraceandIhavelaidcarefulplanstolureheroutandweseeknoassistance!”

“Laydownyoursword,sir,”Wistansaidtothesoldier,“andImayspareyouyet.Otherwiseendyourlifeonthisground.”

The soldier hesitated, but then said: “I see now I was foolish tosuppose myself strong enough to take you alone, sir. I may bepunishedyetformyvanity.ButIwon’tnowlaydownmyswordlikeacoward.”

“By what right,” Sir Gawain cried, “does your king order you tocomefromanothercountryandusurpthedutiesgiventoaknightofArthur?”

“Forgiveme, SirGawain, but it’smany a year you’ve had to slayQuerig,andsmallchildrenhavebecomegrownmeninthetime.IfIcan do this country a service and rid it of this scourge, why beangry?”

“Whybeangry,sir?Youknownotwhatyou’reabout!YouthinkitaneasymattertoslayQuerig?She’saswiseasshe’sfierce!You’llonlyanger her with your foolishness, and this whole country will needsufferherwrath,wherewe’vehardlyheardathingofherthesepastseveralyears.Itrequiresthemostdelicatehandling,sir,oracalamitywillbefalltheinnocentrightacrossthiscountry!WhydoyousupposeHorace and I have so bided our time?Onemisstepwill have graveconsequences,sir!”

“Thenhelpme, SirGawain,” the soldier shouted, nowmakingnoefforttohidehisfear.“Let’stogetherputoutthismenace!”

Sir Gawain looked at the soldierwith a puzzled air, as if he hadforgottenforthemomentwhohewas.Thenhesaidinacalmervoice:“I’llnotaidyou,sir.I’mnofriendofyourmaster,forIfearhisdarkmotives. I fear too the harm you intend to these others here, whomustbeinnocentsinwhateverintrigueenfoldsus.”

“SirGawain,Ihangherebetweenlifeanddeathasaflycaughtinaweb.Imakemylastappealtoyou,andthoughIdon’tunderstandthefull part of this matter, I beg you consider why he comes to ourcountryifnottodousmischief!”

“He gives good account of his errand here, sir, and though heangersmewith his careless plans, it’s hardly reason to join you inarmsagainsthim.”

“Fight now, soldier,” Wistan said, his tone almost conciliatory.“Fightandbedonewithit.”

“Willitdoharm,MasterWistan,”Beatricesaidsuddenly,“toletthissoldier surrender his sword and ride away? He spoke kindly tomebeforeonthebridgeandhe’sperhapsnotabadman.”

“IfIdoasyouask,MistressBeatrice,he’lltakenewsbackofusandsurelyreturnbeforelongwiththirtyormoresoldiers.There’llbelittlemercy shown then. And mark you, he means sinister harm to theboy.”

“Perhapshewouldwillinglyswearanoathnottobetrayus.”

“Your kindness touches me, mistress,” the grey-haired soldierintervened, never taking his eyes offWistan. “But I’m no scoundreland won’t take rude advantage of it. What the Saxon says is true.Spare me and I’ll do just as he says, for duty allows me no other

course.YetIthankyouforyourgentlewords,andifthesearetobemylastmoments,thenI’llleavethisworldalittlemorepeacefullyforthem.”

“What’s more, sir,” Beatrice said, “I’ve not forgotten your earlierrequest,concerningyourmotherandfather.Youmadeittheninjest,Iknow,andit’snotlikelywe’llencounterthem.Butifeverwedoso,they’llknowofhowyouwaitedwithlongingtoseethemagain.”

“I thank you once more, mistress. But this is no time for me tosoftenmy heartwith such thoughts. Fortunemay favourme yet inthiscontest,nomatterthisman’sreputation,andthenyoumayregretyoueverwishedmekindness.”

“Most likely so,” Beatrice said and sighed. “Then Master Wistan,youmustdoyourbestforus.I’lllookaway,forItakenopleasureinslaughter.AndIbidyoutellyoungMasterEdwindothesame,forI’msurehe’llonlyheedifyoucommandit.”

“Pardonme,mistress,”Wistansaid,“butIwouldtheboywitnessallthatunfolds,justasIwasoftenmadetodoathisage.Iknowhe’llnotflinchorretchtowitnessthewaysofwarriors.”Henowspokeseveralsentences inSaxon,andEdwin,whohadbeenstandingbyhimselfashort way away, walked over to the tree and stood beside Axl andBeatrice.Hiseyes,watchful,seemednevertoblink.

Axl could hear the grey-haired soldier’s breathing, more audiblenow because themanwas releasing a low growlwith each breath.When he charged forward he did sowith his sword high above hisheadinwhatseemedanunsophisticated,evensuicidalattack;butjustbefore he reached Wistan, he abruptly altered his trajectory, andfeinted to his left, his sword lowered to his hip. The grey-hairedsoldier,Axlunderstoodwithatwingeofpity,knowinghestoodlittlechance should the combat mature, had wagered everything on thisonedesperateploy.ButWistanhadanticipated it,orperhaps itwasthat his instincts were enough. The Saxon side-stepped neatly, anddrew his own sword across the oncoming man in a single simplemovement.Thesoldierletoutasoundsuchasabucketmakeswhen,droppedintoawell,itfirststrikesthewater;hethenfellforwardontotheground.SirGawainmutteredaprayer,andBeatriceasked:“Is itdonenow,Axl?”

“It’sdone,princess.”

Edwinwasstaringatthefallenman,hisexpressionbarelychangedfrom before. Following the boy’s gaze, Axl saw that a serpent,disturbedinthegrassbythesoldier’s fall,wasnowslidingoutfromunderthebody.Thoughdark,thecreaturewasmottledwithyellowsandwhites,andasitrevealedmoreofitself,travellingswiftlyacrossthe ground, Axl caught the powerful odour of a man’s insides. Heinstinctively stepped to one side,movingBeatricewithhim, in casethecreatureshouldcomesearchingfortheirfeet.Stillitkeptcomingtheirway,partingintwoaroundaclumpofthistle,asastreammightpart arounda rock, beforebecomingoneagain and continuing evercloser.

“Comeaway,princess,”Axlsaid,leadingher.“It’sdone,andit’saswell.Thismanmeantusharm,thoughthereason’sstillnotclear.”

“LetmeenlightenyouasfarasIcan,MasterAxl,”Wistansaid.Hehadbeencleaninghisswordontheground,butnowroseandcametowards them. “It’s true our Saxon kin in this country live in goodharmony with your people. But we’ve reports at home of LordBrennus’sambitionstoconquerthislandforhimselfandmakewaronallSaxonsnowlivingonit.”

“I hear the same reports, sir,” Sir Gawain said. “It was anotherreasonIwouldn’tsidewiththiswretchnowguttedlikeatrout.Ifearthis Lord Brennus is one who would undo the great peace won byArthur.”

“Weathomehearmore,sir,”saidWistan.“ThatBrennusentertainsin his castle a dangerous guest. A Norseman said to possess thewisdom to tamedragons. It’smyking’s fear LordBrennusmeans tocapture Querig to fight in the ranks of his army. This she-dragonwouldmakea fiercesoldier indeed,andBrennuswould thenrightlyharbour ambition. It’s for this I’m sent todestroy thedragonbeforehersavageryturnsonallwhoopposeLordBrennus.SirGawain,youlookaghast,butIspeaksincerely.”

“If I’maghast,sir, it’sbecausethere’sasoundringtoyourwords.WhenIwasayoungman,Ioncefacedadragoninanopposingarmy,and a fearful thing it was. My comrades, hungry for victory themomentbefore,frozeforfearatthesight,andthisacreaturenothalftheequalofQueriginmightorcunning.IfQuerigismadeaservantofLordBrennus,itwillsurelytemptnewwars.Yetit’smyhopeshe’stoowild to be tamed by anyman.”He paused, looked towards the

fallensoldierandshookhishead.

WistanstrodeovertowhereEdwinwasstanding,andgraspingtheboyby thearm,begangently to leadhim towards thecorpse.Thenforalittlewhilethetwoofthemstoodsidebysideoverthesoldier,Wistan talking quietly, pointing occasionally, and looking intoEdwin’s face to check the response. At one stage, Axl sawWistan’sfingertraceasmoothlinethroughtheair,asperhapsheexplainedtotheboythejourneymadebyhisblade.Allthewhile,Edwinwentongazingblanklyatthefallenman.

SirGawain,appearingnowatAxl’sside,said:“It’sagreatsadnessthistranquilspot,surelyagiftfromGodtoallwearytravellers,isnowpolluted by blood. Let’s bury this man quickly, before anyone elsecomes this way, and I’ll take his horse to Lord Brennus’s camp,togetherwithnewsofhowIcameuponhimattackedbybandits,andwherehis friendsmay findhisgrave.Meanwhile, sir”—heturned toaddressWistan—“Iurgeyoureturnstraightawayeast.ThinknomoreofQuerig, foryoucanbeassuredHoraceandI,hearingallwehavetoday,will redoubleourefforts to slayher.Nowcome, friends, let’sputthismanintheearththathemayreturntohismakerpeacefully.”

PartII

ChapterSix

For all his tiredness, Axl was finding sleep elusive. Themonks hadprovided themwitha roomon theupperstorey,andwhile itwasareliefnottohavetocontendwiththecoldseepingupfromthesoil,hehadneverslepteasilyaboveground.Evenwhenshelteringinbarnsorstables,hehadoftenclimbedladderstoarestlessnighttroubledbythecavernousspacebeneathhim.Orperhapshisrestlessnesstonighthadtodowiththepresenceofthebirdsinthedarkabove.Theywerenowlargelysilent,buteverysooftenwouldcomeasmallrustle,orabeatingofwings, andhewould feel theurge to flinghis armsoverBeatrice’ssleepingformtoprotectherfromthefoulfeathersdriftingdownthroughtheair.

Thebirdshadbeentherewhentheyhadfirstenteredthechamberearlier in the day. And had he not felt, even then, somethingmalevolent in theway these crows, blackbirds,woodpigeons lookeddownonthemfromtherafters?Orwas it just thathismemoryhadbecomecolouredbysubsequentevents?

Or perhaps the sleeplessness was on account of the sounds, evennow echoing across the monastery grounds, of Wistan choppingfirewood. The noise had not prevented Beatrice from sinking easilyintosleep,andontheothersideoftheroom,beyondthedarkshapeheknewtobethetableonwhichtheyhadearliereaten,Edwinhadsettled to a gentle snoring.ButWistan, as far asAxl knew,hadnotsleptatall.Thewarriorhadremainedsittingover in the farcorner,waitingforthelastmonktoleavethecourtyardbelow,thengoneoutinto the night. And now here he was again—and despite FatherJonus’swarning—cuttingmorefirewood.

Themonks had taken some time to disperse after emerging fromtheirmeeting. Several timesAxlhad comeclose to sleeponly tobebrought to the surface againby voices below. Sometimes theywerefourorfive,alwayslowered,oftenfilledwithangerorfear.Therehadbeennovoicesnowforsometime,andyetashedriftedagaintowardsslumber,Axlcouldnotshakethefeelingtherewerestillmonksbelowtheirwindow, not just a few, but dozens of robed figures, standing

silentlyunder themoonlight, listening toWistan’s blows resoundingacrossthegrounds.

Earlier,withtheafternoonsunfillingthechamber,Axlhadlookedoutofthewindowtoseewhatappearedtobetheentirecommunity—morethanfortymonks—waitinginclustersallaroundthecourtyard.There was a furtive mood among them, as if they were keen theirwordswerenotoverheardevenbythoseintheirownranks,andAxlcouldseehostileglancesexchanged.Theirhabitswereallofthesamebrown cloth, sometimes missing a hood or a sleeve. They seemedanxious to go into the large stone building opposite, but there hadbeenadelayandtheirimpatiencewaspalpable.

Axl had been gazing down on the courtyard for severalmomentswhen a noise made him lean further out of the window and lookdirectlybeneathhim.Hehadseenthentheouterwallofthebuilding,itspalestonerevealingyellowhuesinthesun,andthestaircasecutinto it rising from the ground towards him.Midway up these stairswasamonk—Axlcouldseethetopofhishead—holdingatrayladenwith foodanda jugofmilk.Themanwaspausing to rebalance thetray,andAxlwatchedthemanoeuvrewithalarm,knowinghowthesestepswerewornunevenly,andthatwithnorailontheoutside,onehadalwaystokeeppressedtothewalltobesurenottoplungedownonto the hard cobbles. On top of it all, the monk now ascendingappearedtohavealimp,yethekeptcoming,slowlyandsteadily.

Axlwenttothedoortorelievethemanofthetray,butthemonk—FatherBrian, as theywere soon to learnhewas called—insisted oncarryingittothetablehimself,saying:“Youareourguests,soletmeserveyouassuch.”

Wistanandtheboyhadleftbythen,andperhapsthesoundoftheirwoodcuttingwasalreadyringingthroughtheair.SoithadbeenjustheandBeatricewhohadsatdown,sidebyside,atthewoodentableand devoured gratefully the bread, fruit and milk. As they did so,Father Brian had chatted happily, sometimes dreamily, about pastvisitors,thefishtobecaughtinnearbystreams,astraydogthathadlivedwiththemuntilitsdeaththepreviouswinter.SometimesFatherBrian,anelderlybutsprightlyman,gotupfromthetableandshuffledabout the room dragging about his bad leg, talking all the while,everynowandthengoingtothewindowtocheckonhiscolleaguesbelow.

Meanwhile,abovetheirheads,thebirdshadbeencriss-crossingtheunderside of the roof, their feathers occasionally drifting down toblemish the surface of themilk. Axl had been tempted to chase offthesebirds,buthadrefrainedincasethemonksregardedthemwithaffection.Hewastakenabackthenwhenrapidfootstepscameupthestairsoutside,andalargemonkwithadarkbeardandaflushedfaceburstintotheroom.

“Demons!Demons!”he shouted,glaringupat the rafters. “I’ll seethemsoakinblood!”

Thenewcomerwascarryingastrawbag,andhenowreachedintoit,broughtouta stoneandhurled itupat thebirds.“Demons!Fouldemons,demons,demons!”

Asthefirststonericocheteddowntotheground,hethrewasecondand thena third.The stoneswere landingaway from the table, butBeatricehadcoveredherheadwithbotharms,andAxl,rising,begantomovetowardsthebeardedman.ButFatherBrianhadreachedhimfirst,andclutchingboththeman’sarms,said:“BrotherIrasmus,Ibegyou!Stopthisandcalmyourself!”

Thebirdsbynowwerescreechingandflyinginalldirections,andthe bearded monk shouted over the commotion: “I know them! Iknowthem!”

“Calmyourself,brother!”

“Don’tyoustopme,father!They’reagentsofthedevil!”

“TheymayyetbeagentsofGod,Irasmus.Wedon’tyetknow.”

“Iknowthemtobeofthedevil!Lookattheireyes!HowcantheybeofGodandgazeatuswithsucheyes?”

“Irasmus,calmyourself.Wehaveguestspresent.”

At these words, the bearded monk became aware of Axl andBeatrice.Hestaredangrilyat them, thensaid toFatherBrian:“Whybring guests into the house at a time like this?Why do they comehere?”

“They’rejustgoodpeopletravellingby,brother,andwe’rehappytogivethemhospitalityasiseverourcustom.”

“Father Brian, you’re a fool to tell strangers of our affairs! Look,theyspyonus!”

“Theyspyonnoone,nordotheyhaveanyinterestinourproblems,havingplentyoftheirown,Idon’tdoubt.”

Suddenlythebeardedmandrewoutanotherstoneandpreparedtohurl it, but Father Brianmanaged to prevent him. “Go back down,Irasmus, and let go this bag. Here, leave it with me. It won’t do,carryingiteverywherethewayyoudo.”

Thebeardedmanshookofftheoldermonk,andclutchedhissackjealously to his chest. Father Brian, allowing Irasmus this smallvictory,usheredhimtothedoorway,andevenasthelatterturnedtoglareagainattheroof,pushedhimgentlyoutontothestairway.

“Gobackdown,Irasmus.Theymissyoudownthere.Gobackdownandtakecareyoudon’tfall.”

When themanhad finally gone, FatherBrian cameback into theroom,wavinghishandatthefeathersfloatingintheair.

“Myapologiestoyouboth.He’sagoodman,butthiswayoflifenolonger suits him. Please be seated again and finish your meal inpeace.”

“Andyet,father,”Beatricesaid,“thatfellowmayberightwhenhesaysweintrudeonyouatanuneasytime.We’venodesiretoincreaseyour burdens here, and if you’ll only let us quickly consult FatherJonus, whose wisdom’s well known, we’ll be on our way. Is therewordyetifwemightseehim?”

Father Brian shook his head. “It’s as I told you earlier, mistress.Jonushasbeenunwell,andtheabbot’sgivenstrictordersnoonewilldisturb himother thanwith permission given by the abbot himself.KnowingofyourdesiretomeetwithJonus,andthepainsyoutooktocomehere, I’ve been trying since your arrival to attract the abbot’sear.Yetasyousee,youcomeatabusytime,andnowthere’savisitorof some importance arrived for the abbot, delaying our conferencefurther.Theabbot’sevennowgonebacktohisstudytotalkwiththevisitorwhiletherestofuswaitforhim.”

Beatrice had been standing at the window to watch the beardedmonk’sdeparturedownthestonesteps,andshenowpointed,saying:“Goodfather,isn’tthattheabbotreturningnow?”

Axl,comingtoherside,sawagauntfigurestridingwithauthorityinto the centre of the courtyard. The monks, breaking from their

conversations,wereallmovingtowardshim.

“Ahyes,there’stheabbotreturned.Nowfinishyourmealinpeace.AndregardingJonus,bepatient,forIfearI’llnotbeabletobringyoutheabbot’sdecisiontillafterthisconferenceisover.YetI’llnotforget,Ipromise,andwillpetitionwellforyou.”

Itwassurelythecasethatthen,asnow,thewarrior’saxeblowshadbeenringingacross thecourtyard. In fact,Axlcoulddistinctly recallasking himself, as he watched the monks filing into the buildingopposite,ifhewashearingonewoodcutterortwo;forasecondblowwould followsoclosebehind the first itwashard to tell if itwasarealsoundoranecho.Thinkingaboutitnow,lyinginthedark,Axlwas sure Edwin had been chopping alongsideWistan,matching thewarriorblowforblow.Inalllikelihoodtheboywasalreadyanexpertwoodcutter.Earlierthatday,beforetheyhadcometothismonastery,hehadastonishedthembydiggingsorapidlywithtwoflatstoneshehadhappenedtofindnearby.

Axl by then had ceased to dig, having been persuaded by thewarriortopreservehisstrengthfortheclimbtothemonastery.Sohehadstoodbesidetheoozingbodyofthesoldier,guardingitfromthebirdsgatheringinthebranches.Wistan,Axlrecalled,hadbeenusingthe dead man’s sword to dig the grave, remarking that he wasreluctanttoblunthisownonsuchatask.SirGawain,however,hadsaid: “This soldier died honourably, no matter the schemes of hismaster,andaknight’sswordisputtogoodusegivinghimagrave.”Bothmen,though,hadpausedtowatchinwondertheprogressbeingmade by Edwin with his rudimentary tools. Then, as they resumedtheirwork,Wistanhadsaid:

“Ifear,SirGawain,LordBrennuswillnotbelievesuchastory.”

“He’llbelieve itwellenough,sir,”Gawainhadreplied,continuingtodig. “There’sacoolnessbetweenus,buthehasme foranhonestfoolwithoutthewittoinventdevioustales.Imaytellthemhowthesoldier spokeofbanditsevenashebled todeath inmyarms.Somewill think it agrave sin to tell sucha lie, yet I knowGodwill lookmercifully on it, for isn’t it to stop further bloodshed? I’ll makeBrennusbelieveme,sir.Evenso,youremainindangerandhavegoodreasontohurryhome.”

“I’lldosowithoutdelay,SirGawain,as soonasmyerrandhere’s

finished.Ifmymare’sfootisn’tsoonhealed,Imayeventradeherforanother,forthat’salongridetothefens.YetI’llbesorryforshe’sararehorse.”

“A rare one indeed! My Horace, alas, no longer possesses suchagility,yethe’scometome inmanyanhourofneed,asyourmarecame to you just now. A rare horse, and one you’ll be sad to lose.Even so, speed is crucial, so be on your way and nevermind yourerrand.HoraceandIwillseetotheshe-dragon,soyou’venocausetothinkfurtherofher. Inanycase,nowI’vehadtimetodwellonit, Isee Lord Brennus can never succeed in recruiting Querig into hisarmy. She’s themost wild and untameable of creatures andwill asquicklyspewfireonherownranksasonBrennus’s foes.Thewholeidea’soutlandish,sir.Thinknomoreofitandhurryhomebeforeyourenemies corner you.” Then when Wistan continued to dig withoutresponding, Sir Gawain asked: “Do I have your word on it, MasterWistan?”

“Onwhat,SirGawain?”

“Thatyou’llthinknomoreoftheshe-dragonandhurryhome.”

“Youseemkeentohearmesayso.”

“I thinknot justofyour safety, sir,butof thoseonwhomQuerigwillturnshouldyouarouseher.Andwhatofthesecompanionswhotravelwithyou?”

“It’strue,thesafetyofthesefriendsgivesmeconcern.I’llgobesidethemasfarasthemonastery,forIcanhardlyleavethemdefencelessonthesewildroads.Thereafter,itmaybebestwepart.”

“Soafterthemonastery,you’llmakeyourwayhome.”

“I’llsetoffhomewhenI’mready,sirknight.”

The smell rising from the deadman’s innards had obliged Axl totakeafewstepsaway,andwhenhedidso,hefoundhehadabetterviewof SirGawain. The knightwas nowwaist deep in the ground,andtheperspirationhaddrenchedhisforehead,soperhapsthatwaswhy his expression had lost its customary benevolence. He wasregarding Wistan with intense hostility, while the latter, oblivious,carriedondigging.

Beatrice had been upset by the soldier’s death. As the grave had

growndeeper,shehadwalkedslowlybacktothegreatoakandseatedherselfagaininitsshade,herheadbowed.Axlhadwantedtogoandsitwith her, and but for the gathering crows,would have done so.Now,lyinginthedarkness,hetoobegantofeelasadnessfortheslainman.Herememberedthesoldier’scourtesytowardsthemonthelittlebridge,andthegentlewayhehadspokentoBeatrice.Axlrecalledtootheprecisewayhehadpositionedhis horsewhen first entering theclearing. Something in the way he had done so had tugged on hismemoryatthetime,andnow,inthenight’sstillness,Axlrememberedtheriseandfallofmoorland,thebroodingsky,andtheflockofsheepcomingthroughtheheather.

He had been on horseback, and in front of himwasmounted hiscompanion, a man called Harvey, the smell of whose heavy bodyoverpoweredthatoftheirhorses.Theyhadhaltedinthemidstofthewindswept wilderness because they had spotted movement in thedistance,andonceitwasclearitsignifiednothreat,Axlhadstretchedhisarms—theyhadbeenridingalongtime—andwatchedthetailofHarvey’s horse swinging from side to side as though to prevent theflies settling on its rear. Although his companion’s facewas hiddenfrom him at that moment, the shape of Harvey’s back, indeed hiswholeposture,announcedthemalevolencearousedbythesightoftheapproachingparty.GazingpastHarvey,Axlcouldnowmakeoutthedarkdots thatwere the sheep’s faces,andmovingamong themfourmen—oneonadonkey, theothersonfoot.Thereappearedtobenodogs.Theshepherds,Axlsupposed,mustlongagohavespottedthem—two riders clearly outlined against the sky—but if they had feltapprehension therewasno signof it in their slow, relentless trudgeforwards. Therewas, in any case, just the one long path across themoor, and Axl supposed the shepherds could avoid them only byturningback.

As thegroupcamenearer,hecould see thatall fourmen, thoughfarfromold,weresicklyandthin.Thisobservationbroughtasinkingto his heart, for he knew the men’s condition would only furtherprovoke his companion’s savagery. Axl waited until the party wasalmost within hailing distance, then nudged forward his horse,positioning it carefully to the side of Harvey where he knew theshepherds,andmostoftheflock,wereboundtopass.Hemadesureto keep his own horse a nose behind, to allow his companion theillusionofseniority.YetAxlwasnowinapositionthatwouldshield

theshepherdsfromanysuddenassaultHarveymightlaunchwithhiswhip, or with the club hooked to his saddle. All the while, themanoeuvre would have suggested on the surface only camaraderie,andinanycase,Harveydidnotpossessthesubtletyofmindeventosuspect itsrealpurpose. Indeed,Axlrecalledhiscompanionnoddingabsent-mindedlyashedrewup,beforeturningbacktostaremoodilyacrossthemoor.

Axl had been especially anxious on behalf of the approachingshepherdsbecauseofsomethingthathadoccurredafewdaysearlierinaSaxonvillage.Ithadbeenasunnymorning,andonthatoccasionAxl had been as startled as any of the villagers. Without warning,Harveyhadheeledhishorseforwardandstartedtoraindownblowsonthepeoplewaitingtodrawwaterfromthewell.HadHarveyusedhis whip or his club on that occasion? Axl had tried to recall thisdetail that day on themoor. If Harvey chose to assault the passingshepherdswithhiswhip,thereachwouldbegreaterandrequirelessleverageofthearm;hemightevendaretoswingitovertheheadofAxl’shorse.If,however,hechosehisclub,withAxlpositionedashenowwas,HarveywouldbeobligedtopushhishorsebeyondAxl’sandrotatepartiallybeforeattacking.Suchamanoeuvrewouldappeartoodeliberate for his companion: Harvey was the type that liked hissavagerytolookimpulsiveandeffortless.

He could not remember now if his careful actions had saved theshepherds.He had a vague recollection of sheep drifting innocentlypast them,buthismemoryof theshepherdsthemselveshadbecomeconfusingly bound upwith that attack on the villagers by thewell.Whathadbroughtthepairofthemtothatvillagethatmorning?Axlrememberedthecriesofoutrage,childrencrying,thelooksofhatred,andhisown fury,not somuchatHarveyhimself,butat thosewhohad handicapped him with such a companion. Their mission, ifaccomplished,wouldsurelybeanachievementuniqueandnew,onesosupremeGodhimselfwouldjudgeitamomentwhenmencameastepclosertohim.YethowcouldAxlhopetodoanythingtetheredtosuchabrute?

Thegrey-hairedsoldiercamebackintohisthoughts,andthelittlehalf-gesturehehadmadeonthebridge.AshisstockycolleaguehadshoutedandpulledonWistan’shair,thegrey-hairedmanhadstartedtoraisehisarm,hisfingersalmostinapointinggesture,areprimand

all but escaping his lips. Then he had let his arm fall. Axl hadunderstoodexactlywhatthegrey-hairedmanhadexperiencedduringthose moments. The soldier had then spoken with particulargentlenesstoBeatrice,andAxlhadbeengratefultohim.HerecalledBeatrice’s expression as she had stood before the bridge, changingfromgraveandguardedtothesoftlysmilingonesodeartohim.Thepicturenowseizedhisheart,andatthesametimemadehimfearful.Astranger—apotentiallydangerousoneatthat—hadbuttosayafewkindlywordsandthereshewas,readytotrust theworldagain.Thethoughttroubledhimandhefelttheurgetorunhishandgentlyovertheshouldernowbesidehim.Buthadshenotalwaysbeenthus?Wasit not part ofwhatmade her so precious to him? And had she notsurvivedthesemanyyearswithnogreatharmcomingtoher?

“Itcan’tberosemary,sir,”herememberedBeatricesayingtohim,her voice tense with anxiety. He was crouching down, one kneepressedintotheground,foritwasafinedayandthesoildry.Beatricemust have been standing behind him, for he could remember hershadowontheforest floorbeforehimashepartedtheundergrowthwith his hands. “It can’t be rosemary, sir. Who ever saw rosemarywithsuchyellowflowersonit?”

“ThenIhaveitsnamewrong,maiden,”Axlhadsaid.“ButIknowfor certain it’s one commonly seen, and not one to bring youmischief.”

“But are you really one who knows his plants, sir? My mothertaughtmeeverythinggrowswildinthiscountry,yetwhat’sbeforeusnowisstrangetome.”

“Then it’s likely something foreign to these parts lately arrived.Whydistressyourselfso,maiden?”

“Idistressmyself,sir,becauseit’slikelythisisaweedI’mbroughtuptofear.”

“Whyfearaweedexceptthatit’spoisonous,andthenall’sneededisnottotouchit.Yetthereyouwere,reachingdownwithyourhands,andnowgettingmetodothesame!”

“Oh,it’snotpoisonous,sir!Atleastnotinthewayyoumean.Yetmymotheroncedescribedcloselyaplantandwarnedthattoseeitintheheatherwasbadluckforanyyounggirl.”

“Whatsortofbadluck,maiden?”

“I’mnotboldenoughtotellyou,sir.”

But even as she said this, the young woman—for that was whatBeatricewas thatday—hadcroucheddownbesidehimso that theirelbows touched for a brief moment, and smiled trustingly into hisgaze.

“Ifit’ssuchbadlucktoseeit,”Axlhadsaid,“whatkindnessisittobringmefromtheroadjusttoplacemygazeonit?”

“Oh,it’snotbadluckforyou,sir!Onlyforunmarriedgirls.There’sanotherplantentirelybringsbadlucktomenlikeyourself.”

“You’dbettertellmewhatthisotherlookslike,soImaydreaditasyoudothisone.”

“Youmayenjoymockingme,sir.Yetonedayyou’lltakeatumbleandfindtheweednexttoyournose.You’llseethenifit’salaughingmatterornot.”

Hecouldremembernowthefeeloftheheatherashehadpassedhishandthroughit,thewindinthebranchesabove,andthepresenceoftheyoungwomanbesidehim.Couldthathavebeenthefirsttimetheyhadconversed?Surelytheyhadatleastknownoneanotherbysight;surelyitwasinconceivableevenBeatricewouldhavebeensotrustingofatotalstranger.

Thewoodcuttingnoises,whichhadpausedforawhile,nowstartedupagain,anditoccurredtoAxlthewarriormightremainoutsidetheentirenight.Wistan appeared calmand thoughtful, even in combat,yet it was possible the tensions of the day and previous night hadmountedonhisnerves,andheneededtoworkthemoffinthisway.Evenso,hisbehaviourwasodd.FatherJonushadspecificallywarnedagainst further woodcutting, yet here he was, back at it again andwith night well fallen. Earlier, when they had first arrived, it hadseemedasimplecourtesyonthewarrior’spart.Andatthatpoint,asAxlhaddiscovered,Wistanhadhadhisownreasonsforcuttingwood.

“Thewoodshediswellpositioned,”thewarriorhadexplained.“TheboyandIwereable tokeepgoodwatchonthecomingsandgoingswhileweworked.Evenbetter,whenwedeliveredthewoodwhereitwasneeded,weroamedatwilltoinspectthesurroundings,evenifafewdoorsstayedbarredtous.”

The twoof themhadbeen talkingupby thehighmonasterywalloverlooking the surrounding forest. The monks had long gone intotheirmeetingbythen,andahushhadfallenoverthegrounds.Severalmoments before, with Beatrice dozing in the chamber, Axl hadwandered out under the late afternoon sun, and climbed the wornstone steps towhereWistanwas lookingdownon thedense foliagebelow.

“Butwhygotosuchtrouble,MasterWistan?”Axlhadasked.“Canitbeyou’resuspiciousofthesegoodmonkshere?”

Thewarrior,ahandraisedtoshieldhiseyes,said:“Whenwewereclimbing that path earlier, Iwanted nothing but to curl in a corneradriftinmydreams.Yetnowwe’rehere,Ican’tkeepawaythefeelingthisplaceholdsdangersforus.”

“Itmustbewearinessmakesyour suspicionskeen,MasterWistan.Whatcantroubleyouhere?”

“NothingyetIcanpointtowithconviction.Butconsiderthis.WhenI returned to the stables earlier to seeallwaswellwith themare, Iheardsoundscomingfromthestallbehind.Imean,sir,thisotherstallwas separated by a wall, but I could hear another horse beyond,though no horse was there when we first arrived and I led in themare.ThenwhenIwalkedtotheotherside,Ifoundtherethestabledoorshutandagreatlockhangingonitonlyakeywouldrelease.”

“There may be many innocent explanations, Master Wistan. Thehorsemayhavebeenatpastureandlatelybroughtin.”

“I spoke to a monk on that very point, and learnt they keep nohorses here fromawish not to ease their burdens unduly. Itwouldseem since our own arrival some other visitor has come, and oneanxioustokeephispresencehidden.”

“Now you mention it, Master Wistan, I recall Father Brian madementionofanimportantvisitorarrivingfortheabbot,andtheirgreatconferencebeingdelayedonaccountofhiscoming.Weknownothingofwhatgoesonhere,andinalllikelihood,noneofittouchesus.”

Wistan nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps you’re right,Master Axl. Alittle sleep would calm my suspicions. Even so, I sent the boy towander further this place, supposing he’d be excused a naturalcuriositymorereadilythanagrownman.Notlongagohereturnedto

reporthe’dheardagroaningfromthosequartersoverthere”—Wistanturnedandpointed—“asofamaninpain.Creepingindoorsafterthissound,MasterEdwinsawmarksofbloodbotholdandfreshoutsideaclosedchamber.”

“Curious certainly. Yet there’d be nomystery in amonkmeetingsomeunfortunateaccident,perhapstrippingontheseverysteps.”

“Iconcede,sir,I’venohardreasontosupposeanythingamisshere.Perhapsit’sawarrior’sinstinctmakesmewishmyswordwasinmybeltandIwasdonepretendingtobeafarmboy.Ormaybemyfearsderivesimplyfromwhatthesewallswhispertomeofdaysgoneby.”

“Whatcanyoumean,sir?”

“Onlythatnotlongago,thisplacewassurelynomonastery,butahillfort,andonewellmadetofightofffoes.Yourecalltheexhaustingroad we climbed? How the path turned back and forth as thougheager to drain our strength? Look down there now, sir, see thebattlements running above those same paths. It’s from there thedefendersonceshoweredtheirguestsfromabovewitharrows,rocks,boilingwater.Itwouldhavebeenafeatmerelytoreachthegate.”

“Iseeit.Itcan’thavebeenaneasyclimb.”

“Further,MasterAxl, I’dwagerthisfortwasonceinSaxonhands,forIseeaboutitmanysignsofmykinperhapsinvisibletoyou.Lookthere”—Wistanpointeddowntoacobbledyardbelowhemmedinbywalls—“Ifancyjusttherestoodasecondgate,muchstrongerthanthefirst,yethiddentoinvadersclimbingtheroad.Theysawonlythefirstand strained to storm it, but that gate would have been what weSaxonscallawatergate,afterthosebarriersthatcontrolariver’sflow.Through this watergate would be let past, quite deliberately, ameasurednumberof theenemy.Then thewatergatewouldcloseonthose following. Now those isolated between the two gates, in thatspacejustthere,wouldfindthemselvesoutnumbered,andonceagain,attacked from above. They would be slaughtered before the nextgroupletthrough.Youseehowitworked,sir.Thisistodayaplaceofpeace and prayer, yet you needn’t gaze so deep to find blood andterror.”

“Youreaditwell,MasterWistan,andIshudderatwhatyoushowme.”

“I’d wager too there were Saxon families here, fled from far andwideseekingprotectioninthisfort.Women,children,wounded,old,sick.Seeover there, theyardwhere themonksgatheredearlier.Allbuttheweakestwouldhavecomeoutandstoodthere,allthebetterto witness the invaders squeal like trapped mice between the twogates.”

“ThatIcan’tbelieve,sir.Theywouldsurelyhavehiddenthemselvesbelowandprayedfordeliverance.”

“Onlythemostcowardlyofthem.Mostwouldhavestoodthereinthatyard,orevencomeupherewherewenowstand,happytoriskanarroworspeartoenjoytheagoniesbelow.”

Axlshookhishead.“Surelythesortofpeopleyouspeakofwouldtakenopleasureinbloodshed,evenoftheenemy.”

“Onthecontrary,sir.Ispeakofpeopleattheendofabrutalroad,having seen their children and kinmutilated and ravished. They’vereachedthis,theirsanctuary,onlyafterlongtorment,deathchasingattheirheels.Andnowcomesaninvadingarmyofoverwhelmingsize.Thefortmayholdseveraldays,perhapsevenaweekortwo.Buttheyknow in the end theywill face their own slaughter. They know theinfants they circle in their arms will before long be bloodied toyskicked about these cobbles. They know because they’ve seen italready,fromwhencetheyfled.They’veseentheenemyburnandcut,taketurnstorapeyounggirlsevenastheyliedyingoftheirwounds.Theyknowthisistocome,andsomustcherishtheearlierdaysofthesiege,whentheenemyfirstpaythepriceforwhattheywilllaterdo.Inotherwords,MasterAxl,it’svengeancetoberelishedinadvancebythosenotabletotakeitinitsproperplace.That’swhyIsay,sir,mySaxoncousinswouldhavestoodheretocheerandclap,andthemorecruelthedeath,themoremerrytheywouldhavebeen.”

“Iwon’tbelieveit,sir.Howisitpossibletohatesodeeplyfordeedsnot yet done? The good people who once took shelter here wouldhave kept alive their hopes to the end, and surely watched allsuffering,offriendandfoe,withpityandhorror.”

“You’re much the senior in years, Master Axl, but in matters ofblood, it may be I’m the elder and you the youth. I’ve seen darkhatredasbottomlessastheseaonthefacesofoldwomenandtenderchildren,andsomedaysfeltsuchhatredmyself.”

“I won’t have it, sir, and besides, we talk of a barbarous pasthopefullygoneforever.Ourargumentneedneverbeputtothetest,thankGod.”

The warrior looked strangely at Axl. He appeared about to saysomething, then to change his mind. Then he turned to survey thestone buildings behind them saying: “Wandering these groundsearlier, my arms heavy with firewood, I spotted at every turnfascinating tracesof thatpast.The fact is, sir, evenwith the secondgate breached, this fort would have held many more traps for theenemy, somedevilishlycunning.Themonksherehardlyknowwhatthey pass each day. But enough of this. While we share this quietmoment,letmeaskyourforgiveness,MasterAxl,forthediscomfortIcausedyouearlier. I refer tomyquestioningthatgoodknightaboutyou.”

“Think no more of it, sir. There’s no offence, even if you didsurpriseme,andmywifealso.Youmistookmeforanother,aneasyerror.”

“Ithankyouforyourunderstanding.ItookyouforonewhosefaceIcanneverforget,eventhoughIwasasmallboywhenIsawitlast.”

“Inthewestcountrythen.”

“That’sright,sir,inthetimebeforeIwastaken.ThemanIspeakofwasnowarrior,yetworea swordandrodea finestallion.Hecameoften to our village, and to us boys who knew only farmers andboatmen,wasathingofwonder.”

“Yes.Iseehowhemightbe.”

“Irecallwefollowedhimallaboutthevillage,thoughalwaysatashydistance.Somedayshe’dmovewithurgency,talkingwitheldersorcallingacrowdtogatherinthesquare.Otherdayshe’dwanderatleisure,talkingtooneandallasiftopasstheday.Heknewlittleofourtongue,butourvillagebeingontheriver,theboatscomingandgoing,manyspokehislanguage,soheneverlackedforcompanions.He’d sometimes turn touswitha smile, butwebeingyoungwouldscatterandhide.”

“Andwasitinthisvillageyoulearntourtonguesowell?”

“No,thatcamelater.WhenIwastaken.”

“Taken,MasterWistan?”

“Iwastakenfromthatvillagebysoldiersandtrainedfromatenderage tobe thewarrior I am today. ItwasBritons tookme, so I soonlearnttospeakandfightintheirmanner.It’slongagoandthingstakestrangeshapesinthemind.WhenIfirstsawyoutodayinthatvillage,perhapsatrickofthemorninglight,IfeltIwasthatboyagain,shylypeekingatthatgreatmanwithhisflowingcloak,movingthroughourvillagelikealionamongstpigsandcows.Ifancyitwasasmallcornerof your smile, or something about yourway of greeting a stranger,headbowedalittle.YetnowIseeIwasmistaken,sinceyoucouldnothavebeenthatman.Nomoreofthis.Howisyourgoodwife,sir?Notexhausted,Ihope?”

“She’srecoveredherbreathwell,Ithankyouforasking,thoughI’vetoldhertorestfurtherjustnow.We’reforced,inanycase,towaittillthemonksreturnfromtheirmeetingandtheabbotgivespermissiontovisitthewisephysicianJonus.”

“Aresolutelady,sir.Iadmiredhowshemadeherwayheregivingnocomplaint.Ah,here’stheboybackagain.”

“Seehowheholdshisinjury,MasterWistan.WemusttakehimalsotoFatherJonus.”

Wistanseemednottohearthis.Leavingthewall,hewentdownthelittlestepstomeetEdwin,andforafewmomentsthetwoconferredinlowvoices,headsclosetogether.Theboy’smannerwasanimated,and thewarrior listenedwitha frown,noddingoccasionally.AsAxlcamedownthestepstotheirlevel,Wistansaidquietly:

“MasterEdwin reportsa curiousdiscoverywemaydowell to seewith our own eyes. Let’s follow him, but walk as we’ve no clearpurpose,incasethatoldmonkthereisleftonpurposetospyonus.”

Indeed, a solitarymonkwas sweeping the courtyard and as theycamecloser,Axlnoticedhewasmouthingwordssilently tohimself,lost in his world. He barely glanced their way as Edwin led themacross the courtyard and into a gap between two buildings. Theyemergedwherethingrasscoveredunevenslopingground,andarowof withered trees, hardly taller than aman,marked a path leadingaway from the monastery. As they followed Edwin under a settingsky,Wistansaidsoftly:

“I’mmuch taken by this boy.Master Axl, wemay yet revise ourplantoleavehimatyourson’svillage.Itwouldsuitmewelltokeephimbymeawhilelonger.”

“I’mtroubledtohearyousayso,sir.”

“Why so?He hardly longs for a life feeding pigs and digging thecoldsoil.”

“Yetwhatwillbecomeofhimatyourside?”

“Oncemymission’scomplete,I’lltakehimbacktothefens.”

“Andwhatwillyouhavehimdothere,sir?FightNorsemenallhisdays?”

“You frown, sir, but the boy has an unusual temperament. He’llmakeafinewarrior.Buthush,let’sseewhathehasforus.”

Theyhadcometowherethreewoodenshacksstoodatthesideofthe lane, in such disrepair that each appeared to be held up by itsneighbour.Thewetgroundwas ruttedwithwheeltracks,andEdwinpausedtopoint theseout.Thenhe led theminto the furthestof thethreeshacks.

Therewasnodoor,andmuchof theroofwasopentothesky.Asthey came in, several birds flew off in furious commotion, and Axlsaw,inthegloomyspacevacated,acrudelymadecart—perhapsthework of the monks themselves—its two wheels sunk into the mud.Whatarrestedtheattentionwasalargecagemountedonitscarriage,andcomingcloser,Axlnoticedthatthoughthecagewasitselfiron,athickwoodenpillarrandownitsspine,fixingitfirmlytotheboardsunderneath.Thissamepostwasfestoonedwithchainsandmanacles,and at head height, what appeared to be a blackened iron mask,thoughwithnoholesfortheeyes,andonlyasmalloneforthemouth.The cart, and the area all around it,was coveredwith feathers anddroppings.Edwinpulledopenthecagedoorandproceededtomoveitbackandforthonitssqueakinghinge.Hewasagainspeakingexcitedwords,towhichWistan,throwingsearchingglancesaroundtheshed,returnedtheoccasionalnod.

“It’scurious,”Axlsaid,“thesemonksshouldhaveneedofsuchanobjectasthis.Nodoubttoaidsomepiousritual.”

Thewarriorstartedtomovearoundthecart,steppingcarefullyto

avoid the stagnantpuddles. “I sawsomething like thisoncebefore,”he said. “Youmay suppose this device intended to expose themanwithinittothecrueltyoftheelements.Yetlook,seehowthesebarsstand far enough apart to allowmy shoulder to pass through. Andhere,look,howthesefeatherssticktotheironinhardenedblood.Aman fastened here is offered thus to themountain birds. Caught inthese cuffs, he has noway to fight off the hungry beaks. This ironmask,thoughitmaylookfrightful,isinfactathingofmercy,forwithittheeyesatleastaren’tfeastedon.”

“Theremayyetbesomemoregentlepurpose,”Axlsaid,butEdwinhad started to talk again, andWistan turned and looked out of theshed.

“Theboysayshefollowedthesetracksouttoaspotnearbyonthecliff’sedge,”thewarriorsaid,eventually.“Hesaystheground’swellrutted there, showing where this wagon has often stayed. In otherwords, the signs all supportmy guess, and I can see too this cart’sbeenwheeledoutjustlately.”

“I don’t know what it means, Master Wistan, but I admit I nowbegintoshareyouruneasiness.Thisobjectsendsachill throughmeandmakesmewanttoreturntomywife’sside.”

“It’saswellwedo,sir.Let’sstaynolonger.”

Butastheycameoutoftheshack,Edwin,whoagainwasleading,stoppedabruptly.Lookingpasthimintotheeveninggloom,Axlcouldseearobedfigureinthetallgrassashortdistancefromthem.

“I’dsayit’sthemonklatelysweepingtheyard,”thewarriorsaidtoAxl.

“Doesheseeus?”

“I’dsayheseesusandknowsweseehim.Yethestandstherestillasatree.Well,let’sgotohim.”

Themonkwasstandingataspottothesideoftheirpath,thegrassup to his knee. As they approached the man remained quite still,thoughthewindpulledathisrobeandlongwhitehair.Hewasthin,almost emaciated, and his protruding eyes stared at them withoutexpression.

“Youobserveus, sir,”Wistansaid, stopping, “andyouknowwhat

we’vejustdiscovered.Soperhapsyou’dtellusthepurposetowhichyoumonksputthatdevice.”

Sayingnothing,themonkpointedtowardsthemonastery.

“Itmaybehe’svowedtosilence,”Axlsaid.“Orelseasmuteasyoulatelypretended,MasterWistan.”

Themonkcameoutofthegrassandontothepath.Hisstrangeeyesfixed each of them in turn, then he pointed again towards themonastery and set off. They followed him, just a short distancebehind, the monk continually glancing back at them over hisshoulder.

Themonasterybuildingswerenowdarkshapesagainstthesettingsky.Astheydrewcloser,themonkpaused,movedhisforefingeroverhislips,thencontinuedatamorecautiouspace.Heseemedanxioustheyremainunseen,andtoavoidthecentralcourtyard.Hetookthemdown narrow passageways behind buildings where the earth waspittedorslopedseverely.Once,astheywentwithheadsbowedalonga wall, there came from the very windows above sounds from themonks’ conference. One voice was shouting over a hubbub, then asecondvoice—perhaps thatof theabbot—called fororder.But therewas no time to loiter, and soon they were gathered at an archwaythrough which could be seen the main courtyard. The monk nowindicatedwithurgentsignsthattheyweretoproceedasquicklyandquietlyaspossible.

As it was they were not obliged to cross the courtyard, wheretorches were now burning, but only to skirt one corner under theshadowsofacolonnade.Whenthemonkhaltedagain,Axlwhisperedtohim:

“Goodsir, sinceyour intentionmustbe to takeus somewhere, I’daskyoutoletmegofetchmywife,forI’muneasyleavingheralone.”

Themonk,whohadturnedimmediatelytofixAxlinastare,shookhis head and pointed into the semi-dark. Only then did Axl spotBeatricestandinginadoorwayfurtherdownthecloister.Relieved,hegaveawave,andas thepartymoved towardsher, therecame frombehindthemasurgeofangryvoicesfromthemonks’meeting.

“How is it with you, princess?” he asked, reaching to take heroutstretchedhands.

“Peacefully taking my rest, Axl, when this silent monk appearedbeforeme,thewayItookhimforaphantom.Buthe’skeentoleadussomewhereandwe’dbestfollow.”

Themonkrepeatedhisgestureforsilence,thenbeckoning,pushedpastBeatriceacrossthethresholdwhereshehadbeenwaiting.

Thecorridorsnowbecameastunnel-likeasthoseoftheirwarrenathome, and the lamps flickering in the little alcoveshardlydispelledthedarkness.Axl,withBeatriceholdinghisarm,keptahandheldoutbeforehim.Foramomenttheywerebackintheopenair,crossingamuddy yard between ploughed allotments, then into another lowstonebuilding.Herethecorridorwaswiderandlitbylargerflames,and the monk seemed finally to relax. Recovering his breath, helooked them over once more, then signalling for them to wait,vanishedunderanarch.Afteralittletime,themonkappearedagainand ushered them forward. As he did so, a frail voice fromwithinsaid:“Comein,guests.Apoorchamberthistoreceiveyou,butyou’rewelcome.”

Ashewaitedforsleeptocometohim,Axlrecalledonceagainhowthefourofthem,togetherwiththesilentmonk,hadsqueezedintothetiny cell. A candle was burning next to the bed, and he had feltBeatricerecoilasshecaughtsightof thefigure lyingin it.Thenshehad taken a breath and moved further into the room. There washardly space for them all, but they had before long arrangedthemselves around the bed, the warrior and the boy in the cornerfurthest away. Axl’s backwas pressed against the chilly stonewall,but Beatrice, standing just in front and leaning into him as if forreassurance,wasalmostuptothesickbed.Therewasafaintsmellofvomitandurine.Thesilentmonk,meanwhile,wasfussingaboutthemaninthebed,helpingtoraisehimtoasittingposition.

Theirhostwaswhite-hairedandadvancedinyears.Hisframewaslarge,anduntilrecentlymusthavebeenvigorous,butnowthesimpleactofsittingupappearedtocausemultipleagonies.Acoarseblanketfell from around him as he raised himself, revealing a nightshirtpatched with bloodstains. But what had caused Beatrice to shrinkbackwastheman’sneckandface,starklyilluminatedbythebedsidecandle.A swollenmoundunderone sideof the chin, adeeppurplefadingtoayellow,obligedtheheadtobeheldataslightangle.The

peakof themoundwas split andcakedwithpusandoldblood.Onthe face itself,agougeran fromjustbelowthecheekbonedowntothejaw,exposingasectionoftheman’sinnermouthandgum.Itmusthave cost him greatly to smile, but once hewas settled in his newposition,themonkdidjustthis.

“Welcome,welcome.I’mJonus,whomIknowyoucamealongwaytosee.Mydearguests,don’tlookatmewithsuchpity.Thesewoundsarenolongernew,andhardlybringthepaintheyoncedid.”

“Weseenow,FatherJonus,”Beatricesaid,“whyyourgoodabbot’sso reluctant tohave strangers imposeonyou.We’dhavewaited forhispermission,butthiskindmonkledustoyou.”

“Ninianhere ismymost trusted friend,andeven ifhe’svowed tosilence,we understand one another perfectly. He’swatched each ofyousinceyourarrivalandbroughtme frequentreports. I thought ittimewemet,eveniftheabbotknowsnothingofit.”

“But what can have caused you such injuries, father?” Beatriceasked.“Andyouamanfamedforkindnessandwisdom.”

“Let’s leavethetopic,mistress, formyfeeblestrengthwon’tallowustospeakforlong.Iknowtwoofyouhere,yourselfandthisbraveboy, seek my advice. Let me see the boy first, who I understandcarriesawound.Comecloserintothelight,dearlad.”

Themonk’svoice, thoughsoft,possessedanatural command,andEdwinstartedtomovetowardshim.ButimmediatelyWistanreachedforwardandgrippedtheboybythearm.Perhapsitwasaneffectofthecandleflame,orthewarrior’stremblingshadowcastonthewallbehind him, but it seemed to Axl that for an instantWistan’s eyeswerefixedontheinjuredmonkwithpeculiarintensity,evenhatred.Thewarriordrewtheboybacktothewall,thentookastepforwardhimselfasthoughtoshieldhischarge.

“What’swrong,shepherd?”askedFatherJonus.“Doyoufearpoisonfrommywoundswill travel toyourbrother?Thenmyhandneedn’ttouchhim.Lethimstepcloserandmyeyesalonewilltesthisinjury.”

“Theboy’swoundisclean,”Wistansaid.“It’sjustthisgoodwomannowseeksyourhelp.”

“MasterWistan,”Beatricesaid,“howcanyousaysuchathing?Youmust knowwell how awound clean onemoment turns fevered the

next.Theboymustseekthiswisemonk’sguidance.”

Wistanseemednot tohearBeatrice,andcontinued to stareat themonk.FatherJonus,inturn,regardedthewarriorasthoughhewereathingofgreatfascination.Afterawhile,FatherJonussaid:

“Youstandwithremarkableboldnessforahumbleshepherd.”

“Itmustbethehabitofmytrade.Ashepherdmuststandlonghourswatchfulofwolvesgatheringinthenight.”

“No doubt that’s so. I imagine too how a shepherd must judgequickly, hearing a sound in the dark, if it heralds danger or theapproach of a friend. Much must rest on the ability to make suchdecisionsquicklyandwell.”

“Onlyafoolishshepherdhearsasnappingtwigorspotsashapeinthe dark and assumes a companion come to relieve him. We’re acautiousbreed,andwhat’smore,sir,I’vejustnowseenwithmyowneyesthedeviceinyourbarn.”

“Ah. I thought you’d come upon it sooner or later.What do youmakeofyourdiscovery,shepherd?”

“Itangersme.”

“Angersyou?”FatherJonusraspedthiswithsomeforce,asthoughhimselfsuddenlyangered.“Whydoesitangeryou?”

“TellmeifI’mwrong,sir.Mysurmiseisthatthecustomherehasbeenforthemonkstotaketurnsinthatcageexposingtheirbodiestothewildbirds,hopingthiswaytoatoneforcrimesoncecommittedinthiscountryandlongunpunished.EventheseuglywoundsIseeherebeforemehavebeengainedinthisway,andforallIknowasenseofpiety eases your suffering. Yet letme say I feel no pity to see yourgashes.Howcanyoudescribeaspenance, sir, thedrawingofaveilover the foulest deeds? Is your Christian god one to be bribed soeasilywithself-inflictedpainandafewprayers?Doeshecaresolittleforjusticeleftundone?”

“Our god is a god ofmercy, shepherd,whom you, a pagan,mayfindhardtocomprehend.It’snofoolishnesstoseekforgivenessfromsuchagod,howevergreatthecrime.Ourgod’smercyisboundless.”

“Whatuse isagodwithboundlessmercy, sir?Youmockmeasapagan,yetthegodsofmyancestorspronounceclearlytheirwaysand

punish severely when we break their laws. Your Christian god ofmercygivesmenlicencetopursuetheirgreed,theirlustforlandandblood, knowing a few prayers and a little penance will bringforgivenessandblessing.”

“It’s true, shepherd, that here in this monastery, there are thosewhostillbelievesuchthings.Butletmeassureyou,NinianandIhavelong let go such delusions, and neither arewe alone.We knowourgod’smercyisnottobeabused,yetmanyofmybrothermonks,theabbot included,willnotyetaccept this.Theystillbelieve thatcage,andour constantprayers,will be enough.Yet thesedark crowsandravensarea signofGod’sanger.Theynevercamebefore.Even lastwinter, though the wind made the strongest of us weep, the birdswere but mischievous children, their beaks bringing only smallsufferings.Ashakeofthechainsorashoutwasenoughtokeepthematbay.Butnowanewbreedcomestofindus,larger,bolderandwithfury in theireyes.Theytearatus incalmanger,nomatterhowwestruggleorcryout.We’ve lost threedear friends thesepastmonths,andmanymoreofuscarrydeepwounds.Thesesurelyaresigns.”

Wistan’smannerhadbeensoftening,buthehadkepthimselffirmlyinfrontoftheboy.“Areyousaying,”heasked,“Ihavefriendshereinthismonastery?”

“In this room, shepherd, yes. Elsewhere, we remain divided andevennowtheyargueingreatpassionabouthowwearetocontinue.Theabbotwill insistwecarryonasalways.Othersofourviewwillsayit’stimetostop.Thatnoforgivenessawaitsusattheendofthispath.Thatwemustuncoverwhat’sbeenhiddenandfacethepast.Butthosevoices,Ifear,remainfewandwillnotcarrytheday.Shepherd,willyoutrustmenowtoseethisboy’swound?”

For a moment Wistan remained still. Then he moved aside,signalling to Edwin to step forward. Immediately the silent monkhelped Father Jonus to a more upright position—both monks hadbecome suddenly quite animated—then grasping the candleholderfromthebedside, tuggedEdwincloser, impatiently raising theboy’sshirtforFatherJonustosee.Then,forwhatseemedalongtime,bothmonkswentonlookingattheboy’swound—Ninianmovingthelightone way then the other—as though it were a pool within which aminiature world was contained. Eventually the monks exchangedwhat seemed to Axl looks of triumph, but the very next moment

Father Jonus fell shaking back onto his pillows,with an expressionclosertoresignationorelsesadness.AsNinianhastilyputdownthecandletoattendtohim,EdwinslippedbackintotheshadowstostandbesideWistan.

“Father Jonus,” Beatrice said, “nowyou’ve seen the boy’swound,tellusifit’scleanandwillhealonitsown.”

FatherJonus’seyeswereclosed,andhewasstillbreathingheavily,buthesaidquitecalmly:“Ibelieveitwillhealifhetakesgoodcare.FatherNinianwillprepareanointmentforhimbeforeheleavesthisplace.”

“Father,”Beatricewenton,“yourpresentconversationwithMasterWistan isn’t entirely within my understanding. Yet it interests megreatly.”

“Is that so, mistress?” Father Jonus, still recovering his breath,openedhiseyesandlookedather.

“Last night in a village below,” Beatrice said, “I spoke with awomanwisewithmedicines.Shehadmuchtotellaboutmysickness,butwhenIaskedheraboutthismist, thesamethatmakesusforgetthelasthourasreadilyasamorningmanyyearspast,sheconfessedshehadnoideawhatorwhoseworkitwas.Yetshesaidiftherewasonewiseenoughtoknow,itwouldbeyou,FatherJonus,uphereinthismonastery.SomyhusbandandImadeourwayhere,eventhoughit’s a harder road to our son’s village where we’re impatientlyawaited.Itwasmyhopeyou’dtellussomethingofthismistandhowAxland Imightbe freeof it. Itmaybe I’ma foolishwoman,but itseemedtomejustnow,forallthetalkofshepherds,youandMasterWistanwerespeakingofthissamemist,andmuchbotheredbywhat’sbeenlostofourpast.Soletmeaskthisofyou,andMasterWistantoo.Dothebothofyouknowwhatcausesthismisttofalloverus?”

Father Jonus and Wistan exchanged looks. Then Wistan saidquietly:

“It’s thedragonQuerig,MistressBeatrice, that roams thesepeaks.She’sthecauseofthemistyouspeakof.Yetthesemonkshereprotecther,andhavedonesoforyears.I’dwagerevennow,ifthey’rewisetomyidentity,they’llhavesentformentodestroyme.”

“Father Jonus, can this be true?”Beatrice asked. “Themist is the

workofthisshe-dragon?”

The monk, who for an instant had seemed far away, turned toBeatrice. “The shepherd tells the truth,mistress. It’sQuerig’s breathwhichfillsthislandandrobsusofmemories.”

“Axl,doyouhear that?The she-dragon’s thecauseof themist! IfMasterWistan,oranyoneelse,eventhatoldknightmetontheroad,canslaythecreature,ourmemorieswillberestoredtous!Axl,whysoquiet?”

Indeed,Axlhadbeenlostinthought,andalthoughhehadheardhiswife’s words, and noticed her excitement, it was all he could dosimply to reachout ahand toher.Beforehe could find anywords,FatherJonussaidtoWistan:

“Shepherd,ifyouknowyourdanger,whydoyoudallyhere?Whynottakethisboyandbeonyourway?”

“Theboyneedsrest,asIdo.”

“Butyoudon’trest,shepherd.Youcutfirewoodandwanderlikeahungrywolf.”

“Whenwearrivedyourlogpilewaslow.Andthenightsarecoldinthesemountains.”

“There’s something else puzzles me, shepherd. Why does LordBrennushuntyouashedoes?Formanydaysnow,hissoldiershavesearchedthecountryforyou.Evenlastyear,whenanothermancamefromtheeast tohuntQuerig,Brennusbelieved itmightbeyouandsentmen out to search for you. They cameuphere asking for you.Shepherd,whoareyoutoBrennus?”

“Weknewoneanother as young lads, evenbefore theageof thisboyhere.”

“You’ve come to this country on an errand, shepherd. Whyjeopardiseittosettleoldscores?Isaytoyou,takethisboyandbeonyourway,evenbeforethemonkscomeoutoftheirmeeting.”

“IfLordBrennusdoesme thecourtesy tocomehereafterme thisnight,I’mobligedthentostandandfacehim.”

“MasterWistan,”Beatrice said, “Idon’tknowwhat’sbetweenyouand Lord Brennus. But if it’s yourmission to slay the great dragonQuerig,Ibegyou,don’tbedistractedfromit.There’llbetimetosettle

scoreslater.”

“Themistressisright,shepherd.IfearIknowtoothepurposeofallthis woodcutting. Listen to what we say, sir. This boy gives you auniquechancethelikeofwhichmaynotcomeyourwayagain.Takehimandbeonyourway.”

Wistan looked thoughtfully at Father Jonus, then bowedhis headpolitely.“I’mhappytohavemetyou,father.AndIapologiseifearlierIaddressedyoudiscourteously.Butnowletmeandthisboytakeourleaveofyou.IknowMistressBeatricestillwishesforadvice,andshe’sabraveandgoodwoman.Ibegyoupreservesomestrengthtoattendtoher.NowI’llthankyouforyourcounsel,andbidyoufarewell.”

Lying in thedarkness, stillhopeful sleepwouldovertakehim,Axltried to rememberwhyhehadbeen sooddly silent formuchofhistime in Father Jonus’s cell. There had been some reason, and evenwhen Beatrice, triumphant to discover the origin of the mist, hadturnedtohimandexclaimed,hehadbeenableonlytoreachouthishand to her, still not speaking. He had been in the throes of somepowerful and strange emotion, one that had all but put him in adream,thougheverywordbeingspokenaroundhimstillreachedhisearswithperfect clarity.Hehad feltasone standing inaboatonawintry river, looking out into dense fog, knowing it would at anymomentparttorevealvividglimpsesofthelandahead.Andhehadbeen caught in a kind of terror, yet at the same time had felt acuriosity—orsomethingstrongeranddarker—andhehadtoldhimselffirmly,“Whateveritmaybe,letmeseeit,letmeseeit.”

Hadheactuallyspokenthesewordsoutloud?Perhapshehaddoneso,and justat the instantBeatricehadturnedtohiminexcitement,exclaiming,“Axl,doyouhearthat?Theshe-dragon’sthecauseofthemist!”

He could not remember clearly what had happened once Wistanand theboyhaddepartedFatherJonus’schamber.The silentmonk,Ninian,musthave leftwith them,probably toprovide theointmentfortheboy’swound,orsimplytoleadthembackunobserved.Inanycase,heandBeatricehadbeenleftalonewithFatherJonus,andthelatter,despitehiswoundsandhisexhaustion,hadexaminedhiswifethoroughly.Themonkhadnotaskedhertoremoveanyclothing—Axlhadbeenrelieved—andthoughheretoohisrecollectionwashazy,animage came tohimof Jonuspressing an ear toBeatrice’s side, eyes

closedinconcentrationasthoughsomefaintmessagemightbeheardcoming from within. Axl remembered too the monk, with blinkingeyes,puttingtoBeatriceaseriesofquestions.Didshe feelsickafterdrinkingwater?Didsheeverfeelpainatthebackofherneck?TherewereotherquestionsAxlcouldnownolongerremember,butBeatricehadrepliedinthenegativetooneafterthenext,andthemoreshedidso,themorepleasedAxlhadbecome.Onlyonce,whenJonusaskedifshe had noticed blood in her urine, and she replied that yes, shesometimes had, did Axl feel unease. But the monk had nodded, asthoughthiswasnormalandtobeexpected,andgonestraighton tothe next question. How then had this examination ended? HerememberedFatherJonussmilingandsaying,“Soyoucangotoyoursonwithnothingtofear,”andAxlhimselfsaying,“Yousee,princess,Ialways knew it was nothing.” Then the monk had eased himselfcarefullybackdowninhisbedandlainthere,recoveringhisbreath.InNinian’s absence,Axlhadhurried to fill themonk’sdrinking cupfrom the jug, andashehadplaced it to the sickman’smouth,hadseentinydropletsofbloodslidefromthelowerlipandspreadinthewater.ThenFatherJonushadlookedupatBeatriceandsaid:

“Mistress,youseemhappytoknowthetruthaboutthis thingyoucallthemist.”

“Happyindeed,father,fornowthere’sawayforwardforus.”

“Takecare, for it’sasecretguardedjealouslybysome,thoughit’smaybeforthebestitremainssonolonger.”

“It’snotformetocareifit’sasecretornot,father,butI’mgladAxlandIknowitandcannowactonit.”

“Yetareyousocertain,goodmistress,youwish tobe freeof thismist?Isitnotbettersomethingsremainhiddenfromourminds?”

“Itmaybesoforsome,father,butnotforus.AxlandIwishtohaveagainthehappymomentswesharedtogether.Toberobbedofthemisasifathiefcameinthenightandtookwhat’smostpreciousfromus.”

“Yetthemistcoversallmemories,thebadaswellasthegood.Isn’tthatso,mistress?”

“We’llhavethebadonescomebacktoo,eveniftheymakeusweeporshakewithanger.Forisn’titthelifewe’veshared?”

“You’venofear,then,ofbadmemories,mistress?”

“What’stofear,father?WhatAxlandIfeeltodayinourheartsforeachothertellsusthepathtakenherecanholdnodangerforus,nomatter that themisthides it now. It’s like a talewith ahappy end,whenevenachildknowsnottofearthetwistsandturnsbefore.Axland Iwould rememberour life together,whatever its shape, for it’sbeenathingdeartous.”

A birdmust have flown across the ceiling above him. The soundhadstartledhim,andthenAxlrealisedthatforamomentortwohehad actually been asleep. He realised too there were no morewoodcutting noises, and the grounds were silent. Had the warriorreturnedtotheirchamber?Axlhadheardnothing,andtherewerenosigns, beyond the dark shape of the table, of anyone else asleep onEdwin’ssideoftheroom.WhathadFatherJonussaidafterexaminingBeatriceandconcludingwithhisquestions?Yes,shehadsaid,shehadnoticed blood in her urine, but he had smiled and asked somethingelse.Yousee,princess,Axlhadsaid,Ialwaystoldyouitwasnothing.AndFatherJonushadsmiled,despitehiswoundsandhisexhaustion,andsaid,youcangotoyoursonwithnothingtofear.Butthesehadnever been the questions Beatrice had feared. Beatrice, he knew,fearedtheboatman’squestions,hardertoanswerthanFatherJonus’s,andthatwaswhyshehadbeensopleasedto learnthecauseof themist. Axl, do you hear that? She had been triumphant.Axl, do youhearthat?shehadsaid,herfaceradiant.

ChapterSeven

Ahandhadbeenshakinghim,butbythetimeAxlsatupthefigurewasalreadyon theother sideof the room,bendingoverEdwinandwhispering, “Quickly, boy, quickly! And not a sound!” Beatricewasawake beside him, and Axl rose unsteadily to his feet, the cold airstartling him, then reached down to grasp his wife’s outstretchedhands.

Itwasstillthedepthsofnight,butvoiceswerecallingoutsideandsurelytorcheshadbeenlitinthecourtyardbelow,fortherewerenowilluminated patches on thewall facing thewindow. Themonkwhohadawokenthemwasdraggingtheboy,stillhalfasleep,overtotheirside, and Axl recognised Father Brian’s limping gait before his faceemergedfromthedark.

“I’ll try and saveyou, friends,” FatherBrian said, his voice still awhisper, “butyoumustbequickanddoas I say.Thereare soldiersarrived, twenty, even thirty, with a will to hunt you down. Theyalready have the older Saxon brother trapped, but he’s a lively oneandkeepsthemoccupied,givingyouachanceofescape.Bestill,boy,staywithme!” Edwinwasmoving to thewindow, but Father Brianhadreachedoutandclaspedhisarm.“Imeanto leadyoutosafety,butwemustfirstleavethischamberunseen.Soldierscrossthesquarebelow,buttheireyesareonthetowerwheretheSaxonstillholdsout.WithGod’shelptheywon’tnoticeusgodownthestepsoutside,andthen theworstwillbebehindus.Butcauseno sound tomake theirgazes turn, and take care not to trip on the steps. I’ll descend first,thensignalyourmomenttofollow.No,mistress,youmustleaveyourbundlehere.Letitbeenoughtokeepyourlives!”

They crouched near the door and listened to Father Brian’sfootsteps descend with agonising slowness. Eventually, when Axlpeeredcautiouslythroughthedoorway,hesawtorchesmovingatthefarendofthecourtyard;butbeforehecoulddiscernclearlywhatwasgoingon,hisattentionwasdrawnbyFatherBrian,standingdirectlybelowandsignallingfrantically.

The staircase, running diagonally down the side of the wall, was

mostlyinshadowexceptforonepatch,quiteneartheground,litupbrightlybythenearlyfullmoon.

“Followclosebehindme,princess,”Axlsaid.“Don’tlookacrosstheyard,butkeepyoureyesonwhereyourfootmayfindthenextstep,orit’llbeahardfallandonlyenemiestocometoouraid.TelltheboywhatI’vejustsaid,andlet’shavethisbehindus.”

Despitehisowninstructions,Axlcouldnothelpglancingacrossthecourtyard as he went down. On the far side, soldiers had gatheredaround a cylindrical stone tower overlooking the building inwhichthemonkshadearlierhadtheirmeeting.Blazingtorcheswerebeingwaved, and there appeared to be disorder in their ranks.WhenAxlwas halfway down the steps, two soldiers broke away and camerunningacrossthesquare,andhewassuretheywouldbespotted.Butthemenvanishedintoadoorway,andbeforelongAxlwasgratefullyushering both Beatrice and Edwin into the shadows of the cloisterswhereFatherBrianwaswaiting.

They followed the monk along narrow corridors, some of whichmayhavebeenthesameasthosetakenearlierwiththesilentFatherNinian.Often theymoved through completedarkness, following therhythmic hiss of their guide’s dragged foot. Then they came into achamberwhoseceilinghadpartlyfallenaway.Moonlightwaspouringin, revealingpiles ofwoodenboxes andbroken furniture.Axl couldsmellmouldandstagnantwater.

“Takeheart, friends,”FatherBrian said,no longerwhispering.Hehadgoneintoacornerandwasmovingobjectsaside.“You’renearlysafe.”

“Father,”Axlsaid,“we’regratefultoyouforthisrescue,butpleasetelluswhat’soccurred.”

FatherBriancontinuedclearingthecorner,anddidnotlookupashesaid:“Amysterytous,sir.Theycamethisnightwithoutinvitation,pouring through the gates and throughourhomeas if itwere theirown.Theydemandedthe twoyoungSaxons latelyarrivedhere,andthough theymadenomentionof youor yourwife, Iwouldn’t trustthem to treat yougently.Thisboyhere, theywould clearlywish tomurder,as theydoevennowhisbrother.Youmust saveyourselvesandthere’llbetimelatertoponderthesoldiers’ways.”

“MasterWistanwas a stranger to us only thismorning,” Beatrice

said, “yet we’re uneasy making our escape while a terrible fatethreatenshim.”

“The soldiersmayyet comeonourheels,mistress, forwe left nobarreddoorsbehindus.Andifthatfellowbravelybuysyourescape,evenwithhisownlife,youmustgraspitgratefully.Underthistrap-door is a tunnel dug in ancient times. Itwill take youundergroundintotheforest,whereyou’llemergefarfromyourpursuers.Nowhelpmeraiseit,sir,forit’stooheavyformyhandsalone.”

Evenforthetwoofthem,ittooksomeefforttoraisethedoortillitstoodupat a steepanglebefore them, revealinga squareofdeeperblackness.

“Lettheboygodownfirst,”themonksaid,“forit’syearssinceanyofususedthispassageandwhoknowsifthestepshaven’tcrumbled.He’snimble-footedandcouldtakeafallbetter.”

But Edwin was saying something to Beatrice, and she now said:“MasterEdwinwouldgotoMasterWistan’said.”

“Tellhim,princess,wemighthelpWistanyetbymakingourescapethroughthistunnel.Telltheboywhatyoumust,butpersuadehimtocomequickly.”

AsBeatricespoketohim,achangeseemedtocomeover theboy.Hekept staringat thehole in the floor, andhis eyes, caught in themoonlight,seemedtoAxlatthatmomenttohavesomethingstrangeabout them, as thoughhewere steadily comingunder a spell. ThenevenasBeatricewas speaking,Edwinwalked towards the trap-doorand without looking back at them, stepped into the blackness andvanished.Ashisfootstepsgrewfainter,AxltookBeatrice’shandandsaid:

“Let’sgotoo,princess.Stayclosetome.”

Thestepsleadingundergroundwereshallow—flatstonessunkintoearth—and felt solid enough. They could see something of thewayaheadby the light from the open trap-door above them, but just asAxl turned to speak to Father Brian, the door closed with whatseemedathunderouscrash.

Theyallthreestoppedandforawhileremainedquitestill.TheairdidnotfeelasstaleasAxlhadexpected;infacthethoughthecouldfeel a faint breeze. Somewhere in front of them, Edwin started to

speak,andBeatriceansweredhiminawhisper.Thenshesaidsoftly:

“TheboyaskswhyFatherBrianclosedthedooronusashedid.Itold him he was most likely anxious to hide the tunnel from thesoldiers maybe even now entering the room. All the same, Axl, itstruckmea littlequeer too.And isn’t thathimnow,surely,movingobjectsoverthedoor?Ifwefindthewayaheadobstructedbyearthorwater,thefatherhimselfsayingit’syearssinceanyonecamethisway,howwillwereturnandopenthatdoor,thewayit’ssoheavyandnowwithobjectsaboveit?”

“Queerrightenough.Butthere’snodoubtingthere’ssoldiersinthemonastery, for didn’t we see them ourselves just now? I don’t seewhat choice we have but to go on and pray this tunnel brings ussafelytotheforest.Telltheboytokeepmovingforward,butslowlyandalwaysahandtothismossywall,forIfearthispassagewillonlygrowdarker.”

Yet as theywent forward they found therewas a feeble light, sothat at times they could evenmakeout eachother’s outlines.Therewere sudden puddles that surprised their feet, andmore than onceduring this phaseof their journey,Axl thoughtheheard anoiseupahead,butsinceneitherEdwinnorBeatricereactedheputitdowntohisoverwroughtimagination.ButthenEdwinsuddenlyhalted,almostcausingAxl tocollide intohim.HefeltBeatricebehindhimsqueezehis hand, and for amoment they stood there very still in the dark.ThenBeatricemovedevenclosertohim,andherbreathfeltwarmonhisneckasshesaidinthesoftestofwhispers:“Doyouhearit,Axl?”

“Hearwhat,princess?”

Edwin’shand touchedhimwarningly, and theywere silent again.EventuallyBeatricesaid inhisear:“There’s somethingherewithus,Axl.”

“Perhapsabat,princess.Orarat.”

“No,Axl.Ihearitnow.It’saman’sbreathing.”

Axllistenedagain.Thentherecameasharpnoise,astrikingsoundrepeating three times, four times, just beyond where they werestanding. There were bright flashes, then a tiny flame which grewmomentarily to reveal the shape of a seated man, then all wasdarknessagain.

“Fearnot,friends,”avoicesaid.“It’sonlyGawain,Arthur’sknight.Andassoonasthistinderlightswe’llseeeachotherbetter.”

Thereweremorenoisesof flints, then eventually a candle flamedandbegantoburnsteadily.

SirGawainwassittingonadarkmound.Itevidentlydidnotmakean ideal seat for hewas at an odd angle, like a giant doll about totopple. The candle inhis hand illuminatedhis face andupper torsowithwobblingshadows,andhewasbreathingheavily.Asbefore,hewas in tunicandarmour;his sword,unsheathed,hadbeen thrustatan angle into the ground near the foot of themound. He stared atthembalefully,movingthecandlefromonefacetothenext.

“Soyou’reallhere,”hesaidfinally.“I’mrelieved.”

“You surprise us, Sir Gawain,” Axl said. “What do you mean byhidingyourselfhere?”

“I’vebeendownhereawhileandwalkingbeforeyou,friends.Yetwiththisswordandarmour,andmygreatheightwhichforcesmetostumbleandgowithbowedhead, Ican’twalkquicklyandnowyoudiscoverme.”

“Youhardlyexplainyourself,sir.Whydoyouwalkbeforeus?”

“To defend you, sir! The melancholy truth is the monks havedeceivedyou.There’sabeastdwellsdownhereandtheymeanyoutoperishbyit.Happily,noteverymonkthinksalike.Ninian,thesilentone,broughtmedownhereunseenandI’llguideyoutosafetyyet.”

“Yournewsoverwhelmsus,SirGawain,”saidAxl.“Butfirsttellusofthisbeastyouspeakof.Whatisitsnatureanddoesitthreatenusevenaswestandhere?”

“Assumeitdoes,sir.Themonkswouldn’thavesentyoudownhereif theydidn’tmeanyou tomeet thebeast. It’s always theirway.AsmenofChrist,it’sbeyondthemtouseaswordorevenpoison.Sotheysend down here those they wish dead, and in a day or two they’llhave forgotten they everdid so.Ohyes, that’s theirway, especiallytheabbot’s.BySundayhemayevenhaveconvincedhimselfhesavedyoufromthosesoldiers.Andtheworkofwhateverprowlsthistunnel,should it crosshismind,he’lldisown,or evencallGod’swill.Well,let’sseewhatGodwillstonightnowaknightofArthurwalksbeforeyou!”

“You’re saying, Sir Gawain,” Beatrice asked, “the monks wish usdead?”

“Theycertainlywishthisboydead,mistress. I triedtomakethemseeitwasn’tnecessary,evenmadeasolemnpromisetotakehimfaraway fromthiscountry,butno, theydon’t listen tome!Theywon’trisk this boy loose, evenwithMasterWistan captured or killed, forwho’stosaytherewon’tcomesomeotherfellowonedaytofindthisboy.I’lltakehimfaraway,Isaid,buttheyfearwhatmayhappenandwishhimdead.Youandyourgoodhusbandtheymighthavesparedbut thatyou’d inevitablybewitnesses to theirdeeds.Had I seenallthisinadvance,wouldIhavetravelledheretothismonastery?Whoknows? It seemedmy duty then, did it not? But their plans for theboy,andforaninnocentChristiancouple,Icouldnotallowit!Luckilynotall themonksthinkalike,youknow,andNinian, thesilentone,ledmedownhereunwatched. Itwasmy intention togobeforeyoumuchfurther,but thisarmourandmystumblingheight—howmanytimesovertheyearshaveIcursedthisheight!Whatadvantagedoesitbring a man to be so tall? For every high-dangling pear I reachedthere’sbeenanarrowthreatenedmewouldhaveflownoverasmallerman!”

“SirGawain,”Axl said,“whatkindofbeast is it, thisoneyousaydwellsdownhere?”

“Ineversawit,sir,onlyknowthosethemonkssendthiswayperishbyit.”

“Is it one can be killed by an ordinary sword held by a mortalman?”

“Whatdoyousay,sir?I’mamortalman,Idon’tdenyit,butI’maknightwell trainedandnurtured for longyearsofmyyouthby thegreat Arthur, who taught me to face all manner of challenge withgladness,evenwhenfearseepstothemarrow,forifwe’remortalletusatleastshinehandsomelyinGod’seyeswhilewewalkthisearth!Like all who stood with Arthur, sir, I’ve faced beelzebubs andmonstersaswellasthedarkestintentsofmen,andalwaysupheldmygreatking’sexampleeveninthemidstofferociousconflict.Whatisityousuggest,sir?Howdareyou?Wereyouthere?Iwasthere,sir,andsawallwiththesesameeyesthatfixyounow!Butwhatofit,whatofit, friends, this is a discussion for some other time. Forgiveme,wehave othermatters to attend to, of coursewe have.What is it you

asked, sir?Ahyes, thisbeast,yes, Iunderstand it’smonstrous fiercebutnodemonorspiritandthisswordisgoodenoughtoslayit.”

“But Sir Gawain,” Beatrice said, “do you really propose we walkfurtherdownthistunnelknowingwhatwenowdo?”

“Whatchoicehavewe,mistress?IfI’mnotmistaken,thewaybackto themonastery is locked tous, andyet that samedoormayopenanytimetopourforthsoldiersintothistunnel.There’snothingforitbuttogoon,andbutforthisonebeastinourway,wemaysoonfindourselvesintheforest farfromyourpursuers, forNinianassuresmethis is a true tunnel and well maintained. So let’s be on our waybeforethiscandleburnsdown,it’stheonlyoneIhave.”

“Dowetrusthim,Axl?”Beatriceasked,makingnoefforttopreventSirGawainhearing.“Mymind’sgiddynowand loath tobelieveourkindFatherBrian’sbetrayedus.Yetwhatthisknightsayshastheringoftruthtoit.”

“Let’s follow him, princess. Sir Gawain, we thank you for yourtrouble.Pleaseleadusnowtosafety,andlet’shopethisbeast’sdozingorgoneprowlingthenight.”

“I fear we have no such luck. But come, friends, we’ll go withcourage.” The old knight rose slowly to his feet, then held out thecandle at arm’s length. “MasterAxl, perhaps you’ll carry for us thisflame,forI’llneedbothmyhandstokeepmyswordattheready.”

They went on into the tunnel, Sir Gawain leading, Axl followingwiththeflame,Beatriceholdinghisarmfrombehind,andEdwinnowattherear.Therewasnooptionbuttogoinsinglefile,thepassageremainingnarrow,andtheceilingofdanglingmossandsinewyrootsgrew lower and lower until even Beatrice had to stoop. Axl did hisbest to hold the candle high, but the breeze in the tunnelwas nowstronger, and hewas often obliged to lower it and cover the flamewith his other hand. Sir Gawain though never complained, and hisshape going before them, sword raised over his shoulder, seemednevertovary.ThenBeatriceletoutanexclamationandtuggedAxl’sarm.

“Whatisit,princess?”

“Oh,Axl, stop!My foot touched something then, but your candlemovedtooquickly.”

“Whatofit,princess?Wehavetomoveon.”

“Axl, I thought it a child!My foot touched it and I saw it beforeyourlightpassed.Oh,Ibelieveit’sasmallchildlongdead!”

“There,princess,don’tdistressyourself.Wherewasityousawit?”

“Come, come, friends,” Sir Gawain said from the dark. “Manythingsinthisplacearebestleftunseen.”

Beatriceseemednottoheartheknight.“Itwasoverhere,Axl.Bringthe flame thisway.Down there, Axl, shine it down there, though Idreadtoseeitspoorfaceagain!”

Despitehis counsel,SirGawainhaddoubledback,andEdwin toowas now at Beatrice’s side. Axl crouched forward and moved thecandle here and there, revealing damp earth, tree roots and stones.Then the flame illuminated a large bat lying on its back as thoughpeacefully asleep, wings stretched right out. Its fur looked wet andsticky.Thepig-likefacewashairless,andlittlepuddleshadformedinthecavitiesof theoutspreadwings.Thecreaturemight indeedhavebeen sleeping but for what was on the front of its torso. As Axlbrought the flame even closer, they all stared at the circular holeextendingfromjustbelowthebat’sbreastdowntoitsbelly,takinginpartsoftheribcagetoeitherside.Thewoundwaspeculiarlyclean,asthoughsomeonehadtakenabitefromacrispapple.

“Whatcouldhavedoneworklikethis?”Axlasked.

Hemusthavemovedthecandletooswiftly,foratthatmomenttheflamegutteredandwentout.

“Don’tworry,friends,”SirGawainsaid.“I’llfindmytinderagain.”

“Didn’tItellyou,Axl?”Beatricesoundedclosetotears.“Iknewitwasababythemomentmyfoottouchedit.”

“What are you saying, princess? It’s not a baby. What are yousaying?”

“What could have happened to the poor child? And what of itsparents?”

“Princess, it’s simply a bat, the like of which often haunts darkplaces.”

“OhAxl,itwasababy,I’msureofit!”

“I’msorrythisflame’sout,princess,orI’dshowyouagain.Abatitis, nothing more, yet myself I’d look again at what it lies on. SirGawain,didyounoticethecreature’sbed?”

“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean,sir.”

“Itseemedtomethecreaturelayonabedofbones,forIthoughtIsawaskullortwothatcouldonlyhavebelongedtomen.”

“What do you suggest, sir?” Sir Gawain’s voice became carelesslyloud. “What skulls? I saw no skulls, sir! Only a bat fallen onmisfortune!”

Beatricewasnowsobbingquietly,andAxlstraightenedtoembraceher.

“It was no child, princess,” he said more gently. “Don’t upsetyourself.”

“Suchalonelydeath.Wherewereitsparents,Axl?”

“Whatareyousuggesting,sir?Skulls?Isawnoskulls!Andwhatifthere are a few old bones here? What of it, is that anythingextraordinary?Aren’tweunderground?ButIsawnobedofbones, Idon’t knowwhat you suggest,MasterAxl.Were you there, sir?DidyoustandbesidethegreatArthur?I’mproudtosayIdid,sir,andhewasacommanderasmercifulashewasgallant.Yes,indeed,itwasIwho came to the abbot to warn of Master Wistan’s identity andintentions,whatchoicehadI?WasItoguesshowdarktheheartsofholymencouldturn?Yoursuggestionsareunwarranted,sir!AninsulttoallwhoeverstoodalongsidethegreatArthur!Therearenobedsofboneshere!AndamInotherenowtosaveyou?”

“SirGawain,yourvoiceboomstoomuchandwhoknowswherethesoldiersarethismoment.”

“What could I do, sir, knowingwhat I did? Yes, I rode here andspoketotheabbot,yethowwasItoknowthedarknessofthatman’sheart?Andthebettermen,poorJonus,hisliverpeckedandhisdaysnot long,while thatabbot livesonwithbarelya scratch fromthosebirds…”

SirGawainbrokeoff,interruptedbyanoisefromfurtherdownthetunnel.Itwashardtodeterminehowdistantornearithadbeen,butthesoundwasunmistakablythecryofabeast; ithadresembledthe

howlofawolf, thoughtherehadalsobeensomethingof thedeeperroarofabear.Thecryhadnotbeenprolonged,butitmadeAxlclaspBeatrice tohim,andSirGawainsnatchedhis sword fromoutof theground.Then,forseveralmoments,theyremainedstandinginsilence,listening for the sound to return. But nothing further came, andsuddenlySirGawainbegantolaugh,quietlyandbreathlessly.Ashislaughterwenton,BeatricesaidintoAxl’sear:“Let’sleavethisplace,husband.Iwishnomoreremindingofthislonelygrave.”

SirGawainstoppedlaughingandsaid:“Perhapsweheardthenthebeast,butwehavenochoicebuttogoon.So,friends,let’sfinishourquarrel.We’ll light thecandleagainbefore long,but let’sgoa littlewaynowwithoutitincaseithastensthebeastourway.See,here’sapale light and enough to walk by. Come, friends, no more of thisquarrel.Mysword’sreadyandlet’scontinue.”

The tunnel became more tortuous, and they moved with greatercaution, fearingwhat each turnwould reveal. But they encounterednothing,norheardthecryagain.Thenthetunneldescendedsteeplyfor a good distance before coming out into a large undergroundchamber.

They all paused to recover their breaths and look around at theirnewsurroundings.After the longwalkwith theearthbrushing theirheads,itwasarelieftoseetheceilingnotonlysohighabovethem,but composed of more solid material. Once Sir Gawain had lit thecandle again, Axl realised they were in some sort of mausoleum,surrounded by walls bearing traces of murals and Roman letters.Before them a pair of substantial pillars formed a gateway into afurther chamber of comparable proportions, and falling across thisthreshold was an intense pool of moonlight. Its source was notobvious: perhaps somewhere behind the high arch crossing the twopillarstherewasanopeningwhichatthatmoment,bysheerchance,wasaligned to receive themoon.The light illuminatedmuchof themoss and fungus on the pillars, as well as a section of the nextchamber,whosefloorappearedtobecoveredinrubble,butwhichAxlsoonrealisedwascomprisedofavastlayerofbones.Onlythendiditoccurtohimthatunderhisfeetweremorebrokenskeletons,andthatthisstrangefloorextendedfortheentiretyofbothchambers.

“Thismustbesomeancientburialplace,”hesaidaloud.“Yettherearesomanyburiedhere.”

“Aburialplace,”SirGawainmuttered.“Yes,aburialplace.”Hehadbeenmovingslowlyaroundthechamber,swordinonehand,candleintheother.Nowhewenttowardsthearch,butstoppedshortofthesecondchamber,asifsuddenlydauntedbythebrilliantmoonlight.Hethrust his sword into the ground, and Axl watched his silhouetteleaningonhisweapon,movingthecandleupanddownwithawearyair.

“We need not quarrel, Master Axl. Here are the skulls of men, Iwon’tdenyit.Thereanarm,therealeg,butjustbonesnow.Anoldburialground.Andsoitmaybe.Idaresay,sir,ourwholecountryisthisway.Afinegreenvalley.Apleasantcopseinthespringtime.Digitssoil,andnotfarbeneaththedaisiesandbuttercupscomethedead.And I don’t talk, sir, only of those who received Christian burial.Beneathoursoillietheremainsofoldslaughter.HoraceandI,we’vegrownwearyofit.Wearyandwenolongeryoung.”

“SirGawain,”Axlsaid,“wehavebutoneswordbetweenus. Iaskyounottogrowmelancholic,norforgetthebeastisnear.”

“Idon’tforgetthebeast,sir.Imerelyconsiderthisgatewaybeforeus.Lookupthere,youseeit?”SirGawainwasholdingupthecandletorevealalongtheloweredgeofthearchwhatappearedtobearowofspearheadspointingdowntotheground.

“Aportcullis,”Axlsaid.

“Exactly, sir.Thisgate isn’t soancient.Younger thaneitherofus,I’dwager.Someonehas raised it forus,wishingus topass through.See there, the ropes that hold it. And there, the pulleys. Someonecomeshereoftentomakethisgateriseandfall,andperhapsfeedthebeast.” Sir Gawain stepped towards one of the pillars, his feetcrunching over bones. “If I cut this rope, the gatewill surely comedown, it will bar our way out. Yet if the beast’s beyond, we’ll beshieldedfromit.IsthattheSaxonboyIhearorsomepixiestoleninhere?”

IndeedEdwin,back in the shadows,hadstarted to sing; faintlyatfirstsothatAxlhadthoughttheboywassimplysoothinghisnerves,but then his voice had become steadilymore conspicuous.His songseemedtobeaslowlullaby,andhewasrenderingitwithhisfacetothewall,hisbodyrockinggently.

“Theboybehavesasonebewitched,”SirGawainsaid.“Nevermind

him,wemustnowdecide,MasterAxl.Dowewalkon?Ordowecutthis rope to give us at least a moment shielded from what liesbeyond?”

“Isaywecuttherope,sir.Wecansurelyraisethegateagainwhenwewish.Let’sfirstdiscoverwhatwefacewhilethegate’sdown.”

“Wisecounsel,sir.I’lldoasyousay.”

Handing Axl the candle, Sir Gawain took a further step forward,raised his sword and swung at the pillar. There was the sound ofmetal striking stone, and the lower section of the gate shook, butremainedsuspended.SirGawainsighedwithahintofembarrassment.Thenherepositionedhimself,raisedtheswordagain,andstruckoncemore.

Thistimetherewasasnappingsound,andthegatecrasheddownraising a cloud of dust in themoonlight. The noise felt immense—Edwinabruptlystoppedhissinging—andAxlstaredthroughtheirongridnowfallenbeforethemtoseewhatitwouldsummon.Buttherewas no sign of the beast, and after a moment they all let go theirbreaths.

Forallthattheywerenoweffectivelytrapped,theloweringoftheportcullisbroughtasenseofrelief,andtheyallfourbegantowanderaround the mausoleum. Sir Gawain, who had sheathed his sword,wentuptothebarsandtouchedthemgingerly.

“Goodiron,”hesaid.“It’lldoitswork.”

Beatrice,who had been quiet for some time, cameup toAxl andpressedherheadagainsthischest.Asheputanarmaroundher,herealisedhercheekwaswetwithtears.

“Come,princess,”hesaid,“takeheart.We’llbeoutinthenightairbeforelong.”

“Alltheseskulls,Axl.Somany!Canthisbeastreallyhavekilledsomany?”

She had spoken softly, but Sir Gawain turned to them. “What doyousuggest,mistress?ThatIcommittedthisslaughter?”Hesaidthistiredly,withnoneoftheangerhehadshownearlierinthetunnel,buttherewasapeculiarintensityinhisvoice.“Somanyskulls,yousay.Yet arewe not underground?What is it you suggest? Can just one

knight of Arthur have killed somany?”He turned back to the gateandranafingeralongoneofthebars.“Once,yearsago,inadream,Iwatchedmyselfkilling theenemy. Itwas inmy sleepand longago.Theenemy,intheirhundreds,perhapsasmanyasthis.IfoughtandIfought. Just a foolish dream, but still I recall it.” He sighed, thenlooked at Beatrice. “I hardly know how to answer you, mistress. Iactedas I thoughtwouldpleaseGod.Howwas I toguesshowdarkhadgrowntheheartsofthesewretchedmonks?HoraceandIcametothis monastery while the sun was up, not long after you yourselfarrived, for I supposed then I had need to speak urgently with theabbot.Then Idiscoveredwhatheplottedagainstyou,and I feignedcomplacence.Ibadehimfarewell,andtheyallbelievedmegone,butIleftHoraceintheforestandreturneduphereonfoothiddenbythenight. Not all the monks think alike, thank God. I knew the goodJonuswouldreceiveme.Andlearningfromhimtheabbot’sschemes,IhadNinianbringmeunseendowntothisplacetoawaityou.Curseit,theboystartsagain!”

Sureenough,Edwinwassingingoncemore,notasloudlyasbefore,but now in a curious posture. He had bent forward, a fist to eachtemple,andwasmovingslowlyaboutintheshadowslikesomeoneinadanceenactingthepartofananimal.

“Therecenteventssurelyoverwhelmhim,”Axlsaid.“It’sawonderhe’sshownthefortitudehehas,andwemustattendtohimwelloncewe’reawayfromhere.ButSirGawain,tellusnow,whydothemonksseektomurdersuchaninnocentlad?”

“No matter how I argued, sir, the abbot would have the boydestroyed.SoIleftHoraceintheforestandretracedmysteps…”

“SirGawain,pleaseexplain.Hasthistodowithhisogre’swound?YetthesearemenofChristianlearning.”

“That’snoogre’s bite theboy carries. It’s adragongavehim thatwound. I saw it right away when yesterday that soldier raised hisshirt.Whoknowshowhemetwithadragon,butadragon’sbiteitis,andnowthedesirewillberisinginhisbloodtoseekcongresswithashe-dragon. And in turn, any she-dragon near enough to scent himwill come seeking him. This iswhyMasterWistan is so fond of hisprotégé, sir.HebelievesMasterEdwinwill leadhimtoQuerig.Andfor this same reason, themonks and these soldierswouldhave himdead.Look,theboygrowseverwilder!”

“Whatarealltheseskulls,sir?”Beatricesuddenlyaskedtheknight.“Why so many? Can they all have belonged to babies? Some aresurelysmallenoughtofitinyourpalm.”

“Princess, don’t distress yourself. This is a burial place, nothingmore.”

“What is ityousuggest,mistress?Theskullsofbabes? I’ve foughtmen,beelzebubs,dragons.Butaslaughtererofinfants?Howdareyou,mistress!”

Suddenly Edwin, still singing, pushed past them, and going up totheportcullispressedhimselfagainstthebars.

“Getback,boy,” SirGawain said, graspinghis shoulders. “There’sdangerhere,andthat’senoughofyoursongs!”

Edwingrippedthebarswithbothhands,andforamomentheandthe old knight tussled. Then they both broke off and stepped backfromthegate.Beatrice,atAxl’sbreast,letoutasmallgasp,butatthatinstantAxl’sviewwasobscuredbyEdwinandSirGawain.Thenthebeastcameintothepoolofmoonlight,andhesawitmoreclearly.

“Godprotectus,”Beatricesaid.“Here’sacreatureescapedfromtheGreatPlainitself,andtheairgrowscolder.”

“Don’tworry,princess.Itcan’tbreachthosebars.”

SirGawain,whohadimmediatelydrawnhisswordagain,begantolaughquietly.“NotnearlyasbadasIfeared,”hesaid,thenlaughedalittlemore.

“Surely bad enough, sir,” Axl said. “It looks well able to devoureachofusinturn.”

Theymighthavebeengazingatalargeskinnedanimal:anopaquemembrane,liketheliningofasheep’sstomach,wasstretchedtightlyover the sinewsand joints. Swathedas itwasnow inmoonshadow,thebeastappearedroughlythesizeandshapeofabull,butitsheadwas distinctlywolf-like and of a darker hue—though even here theimpressionwasofblackeningbyflamesratherthanofnaturallydarkfurorflesh.Thejawsweremassive,theeyesreptilian.

Sir Gawain was still laughing to himself. “Coming down thatgloomytunnelmywild imaginingshadreadiedme forworse.Once,sir, on the marshes at Dumum, I faced wolves with the heads of

hideous hags! And at Mount Culwich, double-headed ogres thatspewedbloodatyouevenastheyroaredtheirbattlecry!Here’slittlemorethananangrydog.”

“Yetitbarsourwaytofreedom,SirGawain.”

“Itdoes that for sure. Sowemay stareat it for anhouruntil thesoldierscomedownthetunnelbehindus.Orwemayliftthisgateandfightit.”

“I’minclinedtothinkitafoedarkerthanafiercedog,SirGawain.Iaskyounottogrowcomplacent.”

“I’manoldman,sir,andit’smanyayearsinceIswungthisbladeinanger.Yet I’mstillaknightwell trained,andif thisbeabeastofthisearth,I’llgetthebetterofit.”

“See,Axl,”Beatricesaid,“howitseyesfollowMasterEdwin.”

Edwin,nowstrangelycalm,hadbeenwalkingexperimentally,firstleft, then to the right, always staring back at the beastwhose gazeneverlefthim.

“The dog hungers for the boy,” Sir Gawain said thoughtfully. “Itmaybethere’sdragonspawnwithinthismonster.”

“Whatever its nature,” Axl said, “it awaits our next move withstrangepatience.”

“Thenletmeproposethis, friends,”saidSirGawain.“I’mloathtousethisSaxonboylikeayounggoattiedtotrapawolf.Yetheseemsa brave lad, and in no less dangerwandering hereweaponless. Lethimtake thecandleandgostand thereat thebackof thechamber.Thenifyou,MasterAxl,cansomehowraisethisgateagain,perhapseven with your good wife’s help, the beast will be free to comethrough.My fancy is itwillmake straight for theboy.Knowing thepathofitscharge,I’llstandhereandcutitdownasitpasses.Doyouapprovethescheme,sir?”

“It’sadesperateone.Yet I too fear thesoldierswill soondiscoverthis tunnel.So let’s try it, sir,andevenwithmywifeand Ihangingtogether on the rope, we’ll do our best to raise this gate. Princess,explaintoMasterEdwinourplanandlet’sseeifhe’llenterintoit.”

ButEdwinseemedtohavegraspedSirGawain’sstrategywithoutawordbeing said tohim.Taking thecandle fromtheknight, theboy

measuredouttengoodstridesoverthebonestillhewasbackintheshadows. When he turned again, the candle below his face barelytrembled,andrevealedblazingeyesfixedonthecreaturebeyondthebars.

“Quick then, princess,” Axl said. “Climb on my back and try toreachtherope’send.Seewhereitdanglesthere.”

Atfirsttheynearlytoppledover.Thentheyusedthepillaritselftosupport them, and after a littlemore groping, he heard her say: “Iholdit,Axl.Releasemeandit’llsurelycomedownwithme.CatchmesoIdon’tfallallatonce.”

“SirGawain,”Axlcalledsoftly.“Areyouready,sir?”

“We’reready.”

“Ifthebeastpassesyou,thensurelyit’stheendofthisbraveboy.”

“Iknowit,sir.Anditwillnotpass.”

“Letmedown slowly,Axl. If I’m still in the air holding the rope,reachupandtugmedown.”

AxlreleasedBeatriceandforaninstantshehungsuspendedintheair,herbodyweightinsufficienttoraisethegate.ThenAxlmanagedtogripanotherportionoftheropeclosetohertwohands,andtheytugged together.At first nothinghappened, then something yielded,andthegaterosewithashudder.Axlcontinuedtugging,andunabletoseetheeffect,calledout:“Isithighyet,sir?”

TherewasapausebeforeSirGawain’svoicecameback.“Thedogstaresourwayandnothingnowbetweenus.”

Twisting,Axllookedaroundthepillarintimetoseethebeastleapforward.Theoldknight’sface,caughtinmoonlight,lookedaghastasheswunghissword,buttoolate,andthecreaturewaspasthimandmovingunerringlytowardsEdwin.

Theboy’seyesgrewlarge,buthedidnotdropthecandle.Insteadhemovedaside, almostas ifoutofpoliteness, to let thebeastpass.AndtoAxl’s surprise, thecreaturedid just that, runningon into theblackness of the tunnel out of which not long ago they had allemerged.

“I’ll hold it up yet,” Axl shouted. “Cross the threshold and saveyourselves!”

ButneitherBeatricebesidehim,norSirGawain,whohadloweredhissword,seemedtohear.EvenEdwinappearedtohavelostinterestintheterriblecreaturethathadjustspedpasthimandwouldsurelyreturnanymoment.Theboy, candleheldbeforehim, cameover towheretheoldknightwasstanding,andtogethertheystareddownattheground.

“Letthegatefall,MasterAxl,”SirGawainsaidwithoutlookingup.“We’llraiseitagainsoonenough.”

The old knight and the boy, Axl realised, were regarding withfascinationsomethingmovingonthegroundbeforethem.Heletthegatefall,andashedidso,Beatricesaid:

“Afearsomething,Axl,andI’venoneedtoseeit.Butgoandlookifyouwillandtellmewhatyousee.”

“Didn’tthebeastrunintothetunnel,princess?”

“Someof itdid,and Iheard its footstepscease.Now,Axl,goandseethepartofitliesattheknight’sfeet.”

AsAxlcametowards them,SirGawainandEdwinbothstartedasthoughshakenfromatrance.ThentheymovedasideandAxlsawthebeast’sheadinthemoonlight.

“Thejawswillnotcease,”SirGawainsaidinaperturbedtone.“I’vea mind to take my sword to it again, yet fear that would be adesecration to bring more evil upon us. Yet I wish it would ceasemoving.”

Indeed it was hard to believe the severed head was not a livingthing. It lay on its side, the one visible eye gleaming like a seacreature.Thejawsmovedrhythmicallywithastrangeenergy,sothatthetongue,floppingamidsttheteeth,appearedtostirwithlife.

“We’rebeholdentoyou,SirGawain,”Axlsaid.

“Amere dog, sir, and I’d happily faceworse. Yet this Saxon boyshowsrarecourage,andI’mgladtohavedonehimsomeservice.Butnowwemust hurry on, andwith caution too, forwho knowswhatoccurs above us, or even if a second beast awaits beyond thatchamber.”

They now discovered a crank behind one of the pillars, andfastening the rope end to it, soon raised the gatewithout difficulty.

Leaving thebeast’s headwhere it had fallen, theypassedunder theportcullis,SirGawainoncemoreleading,swordpoised,andEdwinattherear.

The second chamber of the mausoleum showed clear signs ofhaving served as the beast’s lair: amidst the ancient bones werefresher carcasses of sheep and deer, as well as other dark, foul-smelling shapes they could not identify. Then theywere oncemorewalking stooped and short of breath along awindingpassage.Theyencountered nomore beasts, and eventually they heard birdsong.Apatchoflightappearedinthedistance,andthentheycameoutintotheforest,theearlydawnallaroundthem.

Inakindofdaze,Axlcameuponaclusterofrootsrisingbetweentwolargetrees,andtakingBeatrice’shand,helpedhersitdownonit.AtfirstBeatricewastooshortofbreathtospeak,butafteramomentshelookedup,saying:

“There’sroomherebesideme,husband.Ifwe’resafefornow,let’ssittogetherandwatchthestarsfade.I’mthankfulwe’rebothwellandthatevil tunnel’sbehindus.”Thenshesaid:“Where’sMasterEdwin,Axl?Idon’tseehim.”

Lookingabouthiminthehalf-light,AxlspottedSirGawain’sfigurenearby,silhouettedagainst thedawn,headbowed,ahandona treetrunk to steadyhimwhilehe regainedhisbreath.But therewasnosignoftheboy.

“Justnowhewasbehindus,”Axlsaid.“Ievenheardhimexclaimaswecameintothefreshair.”

“Iwatchedhimhastenon,sir,”SirGawainsaidwithoutturning,hisbreathstilllaboured.“Notbeingelderlyastherestofus,he’snoneedtoleanonoakspantingandgasping.IsupposehehurriesbacktothemonasterytorescueMasterWistan.”

“Didn’t you think to delay him, sir? Surely he hurries to gravedanger,andMasterWistanbynowkilledorcaptured.”

“Whatwouldyouhavemedo,sir?Ididall Icould.Hidmyself inthatairlessplace.Overcamethebeast though ithaddevouredmanybravemenbeforeus.Thenat theendof itall, theboyrunsbacktothemonastery!AmItogivechasewiththisheavyarmourandsword?I’malldone in, sir.Alldone in.What’smydutynow? Imustpause

andthinkitover.WhatwouldArthurhavemedo?”

“Arewe to understand, Sir Gawain,” Beatrice asked, “that it wasyou in the first place came to tell the abbotofMasterWistan’s realidentityasaSaxonwarriorfromtheeast?”

“Whygothroughitagain,mistress?DidInotleadyoutosafety?Somanyskullswetroduponbeforecomingouttothissweetdawn!Somany.Noneedtolookdown,onehearstheircacklewitheachtread.Howmanydead,sir?Ahundred?Athousand?Didyoucount,MasterAxl?Orwere younot there, sir?”Hewas still a silhouette beside atree,hiswordssometimeshardtocatchnowthebirdshadbeguntheirearlychorus.

“Whatever thehistoryof thisnight,”Axlsaid,“weoweyoumuchthanks, Sir Gawain. Clearly your courage and skill remainundiminished.YetItoohaveaquestiontoputtoyou.”

“Spareme, sir, enough.Howcan I chaseanimbleyouthup thesewoodedslopes?I’mdrained,sir,andperhapsnotjustofbreath.”

“SirGawain,werewenotcomradesoncelongago?”

“Spareme, sir. I didmyduty tonight. Is that not enough?Now ImustgofindmypoorHorace,tiedtoabranchsohewouldn’twander,yetwhatifawolforbearcomesuponhim?”

“Themisthangsheavilyacrossmypast,”Axlsaid.“YetlatelyIfindmyselfremindedofsometask,andoneofgravity,withwhichIwasonceentrusted.Was it a law, agreat law tobringallmencloser toGod? Your presence, and your talk of Arthur, stirs long-fadedthoughts,SirGawain.”

“My poorHorace, sir, so dislikes the forest at night. The hootingowlorthescreechofafoxisenoughtofrightenhim,nomatterhe’llfaceashowerofarrowswithoutflinching.I’llgotohimnow,andletmeurgeyougoodpeoplenottorestheretoolate.ForgettheyoungSaxons, the pair of them. Think now of your own cherished sonwaitingforyouathisvillage.Bestgoonyourwayquickly,Isay,nowyou’rewithout your blankets and provisions. The river’s near and afast tide on it flowing east. A friendly word with a bargemanmaysecureyoua ridedownstream.Butdon’t dallyhere, forwhoknowswhensoldierswillcomethisway?Godprotectyou,friends.”

Witharustleandafewthumps,SirGawain’sformdisappearedinto

thedarkfoliage.Afteramoment,Beatricesaid:

“Wedidn’tbidhimfarewell,Axl,and I feelpoorly for it.Yet thatwasastrangeleavehetookofusandasuddenone.”

“I thought so too, princess.Butperhapshegivesuswise counsel.We should hurry on to our son and never mind our recentcompanions.IfeelconcernforpoorMasterEdwin,yetifhe’llhastenbacktothemonastery,whatcanwedoforhim?”

“Let’srestjustamomentlonger,Axl.Soonwe’llbeonourway,thetwoofus,andwe’ddowelltoseekabargetospeedourjourney.Oursonmustbewonderingwhatkeepsus.”

ChapterEight

The youngmonkwas a thin, sickly-looking Pictwho spoke Edwin’slanguage well. No doubt he had been delighted to have in hiscompany someone nearer his own age, and for the first part of thejourneydownthroughthedawnmists,hehadtalkedwithrelish.Butsinceenteringthetrees,theyoungmonkhadfallensilentandEdwinnowwonderedifhehadinsomewayoffendedhisguide.Morelikelythemonkwassimplyanxiousnottoattracttheattentionofwhateverlurked in thesewoods;amidst thepleasantbirdsong, therehadbeensome strange hissings and murmurs. When Edwin had asked onceagain,morefromawishtobreakthesilencethanforreassurance,“Somybrother’swounds seemednot tobemortal?” the replyhadbeenalmostcurt.

“FatherJonussaysnot.There’snonewiser.”

Wistan, then, could not be so badly hurt. Indeed, he must havemanagedthissamejourneydownthehillnot longago,andwhile itwasstilldark.Hadhehadtoleanheavilyonthearmofhisguide?Orhad hemanaged to gomounted on hismare, perhapswith amonkholdingsteadythebridle?

“Showthisboydowntothecooper’scottage.Andtakecarenoonesees you leave themonastery.” Such, according to the youngmonk,hadbeenFatherJonus’sinstructiontohim.SoEdwinwouldsoonbereunitedwiththewarrior,butwhatsortofwelcomecouldheexpect?HehadletWistandownatthefirstchallenge.Insteadofhurryingtohis side at the first sign of battle, Edwin had run off into the longtunnel.Buthismotherhadnotbeendownthere,andonlywhenthetunnel’s end had finally appeared, distant and moon-like in theblackness,hadhefeltliftingfromhimtheheavycloudsofdreamandrealisedwithhorrorwhathadoccurred.

Atleasthehaddonehisutmostoncehehademergedintothechillymorning air. He had run almost the whole way back up to themonastery, slowingonly for the steepest slopes. Sometimes,pushingthrough thewoods, he had felt himself lost, but then the trees hadthinnedandthemonasteryhadappearedagainstthepalesky.Sohe

hadgoneonclimbingandarrivedatthebiggate,breathlessandwithhislegsaching.

The small door beside the main gate was unlocked, and he hadmanaged to collect himself sufficiently to enter the grounds withstealthycare.Hehadbeenawareof smoke for the latterpartofhisclimb, but now it tickled his chest, making it hard not to coughloudly.Heknewthenforsureitwastoolatetomovethehaywagon,andfeltagreatemptinessopeningwithinhim.Buthehadpushedthefeelingasideforanothermoment,andpressedonintothegrounds.

Forsometimehecameacrossneithermonknorsoldier.Butashemovedalongthehighwall,duckinghisheadsoasnottobespottedfrom some far-off window, he had seen below the soldiers’ horsescrowdedtogetherinthesmallyardinsidethemaingate.Boundonallsidesbyhighwalls,theanimals,stillsaddled,werecirclingnervously,eventhoughtherewasscarcelyspacetodosowithoutcolliding.Thenas he came towards the monks’ quarters, where another of his agemightwellhave rushedon to thecentral courtyard,hehadhad thepresenceofmindtorecallthegeographyofthegroundsandproceedby a roundabout route, utilising what he remembered of the backways.Evenonreachinghisdestination,hehadplacedhimselfbehindastonepillarandpeeredroundcautiously.

Thecentralcourtyardwasbarelyrecognisable.Threerobedfigureswere sweepingwearily, and as hewatched, a fourth arrivedwith apail and tossed water across the cobbles, setting to flight severallurkingcrows.Thegroundwasstrewninplaceswithstrawandwithsand, and his eyes were drawn to the several shapes covered overwithsackcloth,whichhesupposedtobecorpses.Theoldstonetower,whereheknewWistanhadheldout,loomedoverthescene,butthistoo had changed: it was charred and blackened in many places,especially around its arched entryway and each of its narrowwindows. To Edwin’s eyes the tower as a whole appeared to haveshrunk.Hehadbeencraninghisneckaroundthepillartoascertainifthepoolssurroundingthecoveredshapeswereofbloodorofwater,whenthebonyhandshadgraspedhisshouldersfrombehind.

He had twisted around to find Father Ninian, the silent monk,staringintohiseyes.Edwinhadnotcriedout,buthadsaid,inalowvoice, pointing towards the bodies: “Master Wistan, my Saxonbrother.Doesheliethere?”

The silent monk appeared to understand, and shook his heademphatically.Butevenasheraisedafingertohislipsinthefamiliarmanner, he had stared warningly into Edwin’s face. Then, glancingfurtively around him, Ninian had tugged Edwin away from thecourtyard.

“Canwebecertain,warrior,”hehadaskedWistanthedaybefore,“the soldiers will really come?Who’ll tell them we’re here? Surelythesemonksbelieveusbutsimpleshepherds.”

“Whoknows,boy.Perhapswe’llbeleft inpeace.Butthere’soneIfancymaybetrayourpresencehere,andevennowthegoodBrennusmaybeissuinghisorders.Testitwell,youngcomrade.Britonshaveaway of dividing a bale fromwithin with wooden slats. We need itpurehayallthewaydown.”

HeandWistanhadbeeninthebarnbehindtheoldtower.Havingforthemomentdonewithwoodcutting,thewarriorhadbeenseizedbytheurgetoloadthericketywagonhighwiththehaystoredattheback of the shed. As they had set about this task, Edwin had beenrequired at regular intervals to clamber up onto the bales and prodinto them with a stick. The warrior, observing carefully from theground,wouldsometimesmakehimgooverasectionagain,ororderhimtothrustalegasfardownaspossibleintoaparticularspot.

“Theseholymenarejustthesorttogetabsent-minded,”Wistanhadsaidbywayofexplanation.“Theymayhaveleftaspadeorpitchforkin thehay. If so, itwouldbea service to retrieve it for them, toolsbeingscarceuphere.”

Although at that point the warrior had given no hint as to thepurposeofthehay,Edwinhadknownstraightawayithadtodowiththeconfrontationahead,andthatwaswhy,asthebaleshadpiledup,hehadaskedhisquestionaboutthesoldiers.

“Who’llbetrayus,warrior?Themonksdon’tsuspectus.They’resoconcernedwiththeirholyquarrels,theyhardlyglanceourway.”

“Maybeso,boy.Buttesttheretoo.Justthere.”

“Canitbe,warrior,it’stheoldcouplewillbetrayus?Surelythey’retoofoolishandhonest.”

“TheymaybeBritons,butIdon’tfeartheirtreachery.Yetyou’dbewrong to suppose them foolish, boy.Master Axl, for one, is a deep

fellow.”

“Warrior,whydowetravelwiththem?Theyslowusateveryturn.”

“They slow us, right enough, and we’ll part ways soon. Yet thismorning aswe set off, I felt eager forMasterAxl’s company.And Imaywishformoreofityet.AsIsay,he’sadeepone.HeandImayhavea littlemore todiscuss.But justnowlet’sconcentrateonwhatfacesushere.Wemustloadthiswagoninasureandsteadyway.Weneed pure hay. No wood or iron there. See how I depend on you,boy.”

ButEdwinhadlethimdown.Howcouldhehavegoneonsleepingforsolong?Ithadbeenamistaketoliedownatall.Heshouldsimplyhavesatupright inthecorner,nappingafewwinksthewayhehadseenWistando,readyatthefirstnoisetostarttohisfeet.Instead,likean infant, he had accepted from the oldwoman a cup ofmilk, andfallenintoadeepsleepinhiscornerofthechamber.

Had his real mother called him in his dreams? Perhaps that waswhyhehadremainedasleepforsolong.Andwhy,whenhehadbeenshaken awake by the crippled monk, instead of rushing to thewarrior’s side, hehad followed after the others down into the long,strange tunnel, for all theworld as if hewere still in the depths ofdreaming.

Ithadbeenhismother’svoicewithoutdoubt, thesamevoice thathadcalledtohiminthebarn.“Findthestrengthforme,Edwin.Findthestrengthandcomerescueme.Comerescueme.Comerescueme.”There had been an urgency there he had not heard the previousmorning.Andtherehadbeenmore:ashehadstoodatthatopentrap-door,staringdownatthestepsleadingintothedarkness,hehadfeltsomethingpullathimwithsuchforcehehadbecomegiddy,almostsick.

Theyoungmonkwasholdingbackblackthornwithastick,waitingfor Edwin to go ahead of him. Now at last he spoke, though in ahushedvoice.

“Ashortcut.We’llsoonseetheroofofthecooper’scottage.”

Astheycameoutofthewoodstowherethelandsweptdownintotherecedingmist,Edwincouldstillhearmovementandhissinginthenearbybracken.Andhethoughtofthesunnyeveningtowardstheend

ofsummer,whenhehadtalkedwiththegirl.

Hehadnotatfirstseenthepondthatday,forithadbeensmallandwellhiddenbyrushes.Acloudofbrightlycolouredinsectshadflownupbeforehim,aneventnormally todrawhis attention,buton thisoccasionhehadbeentoopreoccupiedbythenoisecomingfromthewater’s edge. An animal in a trap? There it was again, behind thebirdsongandthewind.Thenoisefollowedapattern:anintenseburstof rustling, as of a struggle, then silence. Then soon,more rustling.Approaching cautiously, he had heard laboured breathing. Then thegirlhadbeenbeforehim.

Shewaslyingonherbackintheroughgrass,hertorsotwistedtooneside.Shewasafewyearsolderthanhim—fifteenorsixteen—andhereyeswerefixedonhimwithoutfear.Ittookawhiletorealiseheroddposturehadtodowithherhandsbeingtiedunderherbody.Theflattened grass aroundhermarked the areawhere, by pushingwithherlegs,shehadbeenslidingaboutinherstruggles.Herclothsmock,tied at the waist, was discoloured—perhaps soaked—all along oneside,andbothher legs,unusuallydark-skinned,bore freshscratchesfromthethistles.

Itoccurredtohimshewasanapparitionorasprite,butwhenshespokehervoicehadnoechotoit.

“Whatdoyouwant?Whyhaveyoucome?”

Recoveringhimself,Edwinsaid:“Ifyoulike,Icouldhelpyou.”

“These knots aren’t difficult. They just tiedmemore tightly thanusual.”

Only now did he notice her face and neck were covered inperspiration. Even as she spoke, her hands, under her back, werebusilystruggling.

“Areyouhurt?”heasked.

“Nothurt.Butabeetlelandedonmykneejustnow.Itclungonandbitme.There’llbeaswellingnow.Icanseeyou’restilltoomuchofachildtohelpme.Itdoesn’tmatter,I’llmanagemyself.”

Hergazeremainedfixedonhim,evenasherfacetightenedandshetwistedandraisedhertorsoalittlewayofftheground.Hewatched,transfixed,expectingatanymomenttoseethehandscomeoutfrom

under her. But she sagged down defeated and lay in the grass,breathinghardandstaringangrilyathim.

“Icouldhelp,”Edwinsaid.“I’mgoodwithknots.”

“You’rejustachild.”

“I’mnot.I’mnearlytwelve.”

“They’llcomebacksoon.Iftheyfindyou’veuntiedme,they’llbeatyou.”

“Aretheygrown-ups?”

“Theythinktheyare,butthey’rejustboys.Olderthanyouthoughandthere’sthreeofthem.They’dlikenothingbetterthantobeatyou.They’llforceyourheadintothatmuddywateruntilyoupassout.I’vewatchedthemdoitbefore.”

“Aretheyfromthevillage?”

“Thevillage?”Shelookedathimwithcontempt.“Yourvillage?Wepass village after village every day. What do we care about yourvillage?Theymaycomebacksoon,thenyou’llbeintrouble.”

“I’mnotafraid.Icouldfreeyouifyoulike.”

“Ialwaysfreemyself.”Shetwistedagain.

“Whydidtheytieyou?”

“Why?Isupposesotheycouldwatch.Watchmetrytogetfree.Butthey’re gone now, to steal food.” Then she said: “I thought youvillagersworkedallday.Whydoesyourmotherletyouwander?”

“I’m allowed because I finished three corners by myself alreadytoday.” Then he added: “My real mother’s not in the village anymore.”

“Where’sshegone?”

“Idon’tknow.Shewastaken.Ilivewithmyauntnow.”

“WhenIwasachildlikeyou,”shesaid,“Ilivedinavillage.NowItravel.”

“Whodoyoutravelwith?”

“Oh…withthem.Wepassthiswayquiteoften.Irememberthemtyingmeandleavingmehereoncebefore,thisveryspot,lastspring.”

“I’llreleaseyou,”hesaidsuddenly.“Andiftheycomeback,Iwon’tbefrightenedofthem.”

Yetsomethingstillheldhimback.Hehadexpectedhereyestoshiftaway, or her body at least to accommodate the prospect of hisapproach.Butshehadgoneonstaringathim,whileunderherarchedbackherhandscontinuedtheirstruggle.Onlywhensheletoutalongsighdidherealiseshehadbeenholdingherbreathforsometime.

“Icanusuallydoit,”shesaid.“Ifyouweren’there,I’dhavedoneitbynow.”

“Dotheytieyoutostopyourunningaway?”

“Run away?Wherewould I run away? I travelwith them.” Thenshe said: “Why did you come to me?Why don’t you go help yourmotherinstead?”

“Mymother?”Hewasgenuinelysurprised.“Whyshouldmymotherwantmetohelpher?”

“Yousaidshewastaken,didn’tyou?”

“Yes,butthatwaslongago.She’shappynow.”

“How can she be happy? Don’t you think she wants someone tocomeandhelpher?”

“She’sjusttravelling.Shewouldn’twantmeto…”

“Shedidn’twantyoutocomebeforebecauseyouwereachild.Butyou’re nearly a man now.” She fell silent, arching her back as shemade another concerted effort. Then she sagged back down again.“Sometimes,” she said, “if they come back and I haven’t gotmyselffree, they don’t untieme. Theywatch and don’t say aword until Imanagebymyselfandmyhandscomeloose.Untilthentheysittherewatching and watching, their devil’s horns growing between theirlegs.I’dminditlessiftheyspoke.Buttheystareandstareanddon’tsayanything.”Thenshesaid:“WhenIsawyou,Ithoughtyou’ddothesame.Ithoughtyou’dsitandstareandnotsayathing.”

“Shall I untie you? I’m not afraid of them, and I’m good withknots.”

“You’re only a child.” Suddenly tears appeared. It happened soquickly,andbecauseherfaceshowednoothersignofemotion,Edwinthought at first he was watching perspiration. But then he realised

they were tears, and because her face was half-upturned, the tearsrolledoddly,pastthebridgeofhernoseanddowntheoppositecheek.All the while she held her gaze on him. The tears confused him,makinghimstopinhistracks.

“Come on then,” she said, and for the first timemoved onto herside,lettinghergazefallawaytowardsthebulrushesinthewater.

Edwin hurried forward, like a thief spying an opportunity, andcrouchinginthegrassbegantotugattheknots.Thetwinewasthinand coarse, cutting cruelly into her wrists; the palms, in contrast,spreadopenoneacrosstheother,weresmallandtender.Atfirsttheknots did not yield, but he forced himself to be calm and studiedcarefullythepaththecoilstook.Thenwhenhetriedagain,theknotgaveunderhistouch.Nowhewentabouthisworkmoreconfidently,glancing from time to time at the soft palms,waiting like a pair ofdocilecreatures.

Afterhepulledthetwinefromher,sheturnedandsatfacinghimatwhat suddenly felt anuncomfortably closedistance. Shedidnot,henoticed,smellofstaleexcrementthewaymostpeopledid:herodourwaslikethatofafiremadefromdampwood.

“Iftheycome,”shesaidquietly,“they’lldragyouthroughthereedsthenhalf-drownyou.You’dbettergo.Goback toyourvillage.”Shereachedoutahandexperimentally,as thoughunsure ifevennow itwasunderhercontrol,andpushedhischest.“Go.Hurry.”

“I’mnotafraidofthem.”

“You’renotafraid.But they’ll stilldoall these things toyou.Youhelpedme,butyouhavetogoawaynow.Go,hurry.”

When he returned just before sunset, the grasswas still flattenedwhereshehad lain,but therewasnoother trace leftofher.All thesame,thespotfeltalmostuncannilytranquil,andhehadsatdowninthe grass for somemoments, watching the bulrusheswaving in thewind.

He never told anyone about the girl—not his aunt, who wouldquicklyhaveconcludedshewasademon,noranyoftheotherboys.But in the weeks that followed, a vivid image of her had oftenreturned to him unbidden; sometimes at night, within his dreams;often inbroaddaylight, ashewasdigging thegroundorhelping to

mendaroof,andthenthedevil’shornwouldgrowbetweenhislegs.Eventually the horn would go away, leaving him with a feeling ofshame,andthenthegirl’swordswouldreturntohim:“Whydidyoucometome?Whydon’tyougohelpyourmotherinstead?”

Buthowcouldhegotohismother?Thegirlherselfhadsaidhewas“onlyachild.”Thenagain,asshehadpointedout,hewouldsoonbeaman.Wheneverhe recalled thosewords, hewould feel his shameanew,andyethehadbeenabletoseenowayforward.

ButthathadallchangedthemomentWistanhadthrownopenthebarndoor, forcinginthedazzling light,anddeclaredthat itwashe,Edwin, who had been chosen for the mission. And now here theywere,Edwinandthewarrior,travellingacrossthecountry,andsurelyitwouldnotbelongtilltheycameuponher.Thenthementravellingwithherwouldtremble.

Buthaditreallybeenhervoicethathadledhimaway?Haditnotbeensheerterrorofthesoldiers?Suchquestionsdriftedintohismindashefollowedtheyoungmonkdownabarelytroddenpathbesideadescendingstream.Washesurehehadnotsimplypanickedwhenhehad been awoken and seen from the window the soldiers runningabouttheoldtower?Butnow,whenheconsidereditallcarefully,hewascertainhehadfeltnofear.Andearlier,duringtheday,whenthewarriorhadledhimintothatsametowerandtheyhadtalked,EdwinhadfeltonlyanimpatiencetostandatWistan’ssideinthefaceoftheoncomingenemy.

Wistanhadbeenpreoccupiedwiththeoldtowerfromthetimetheyhad first arrived at the monastery. Edwin could remember himcontinuallyglancingupat itwhiletheyhadbeencuttinglogsinthewoodshed.Andwhentheyhadpushedthebarrowaroundthegroundstodeliverthefirewood,theyhadtwicemadediversionsjusttogopastit.Soithadcomeasnosurprise,oncethemonkshaddisappearedintotheirmeetingand thecourtyardwasempty, that thewarrior shouldlean the axe on the woodpile and say: “Come a moment, youngcomrade,andwe’llexaminemorecloselythistallandancientfriendwhostaresdownatus.Itseemstomehewatcheswherewego,andtakesoffencewe’veyettopayhimavisit.”

Astheyhadenteredunderthelowarchintothechillydimnessofthe tower’s interior, the warrior had said to him: “Take care. Youthinkyou’reinside,butlooktoyourfeet.”

Glancing down, Edwin had seen in front of him a kind of moatwhichfollowedthecircularwallallthewaytoformaring.Itwastoowideforamantoleap,andthesimplebridgeoftwoplankswastheonlyway to reach the central floor of trodden earth.As he steppedonto theplanks,gazingdown into thedarknessbelow,heheard thewarriorsaybehindhim:

“Noticethere’snowaterthere,youngcomrade.Andevenifyoufellrightin,I’dsayyou’dfinditnodeeperthanyourownheight.Curious,don’tyouthink?Whyamoatonthe inside?Whyamoatatall forasmall tower like this?What good can it do?”Wistan cameover theplankshimselfandtestedwithhisheelthecentralfloor.“Perhaps,”hewenton,“theancientsbuiltthistowertoslaughteranimals.Perhapsoncethiswastheirkillingfloor.Whattheydidn’twishtokeepofananimal,theysimplypushedoverthesideintothemoat.Whatdoyouthink,boy?”

“That’spossible,warrior,”Edwinsaid.“Yetitwouldhavebeennoeasythingtoleadabeastacrossnarrowplankslikethat.”

“Perhaps in olden times there was a better bridge here,” Wistansaid.“Sturdyenoughtobearanoxorabull.Oncethebeasthadbeenledover,anditguesseditsfate,orwhenthefirstblowfailedtomakeitsinktoitsknees,thisarrangementensureditcouldnoteasilyflee.Imagine the animal twisting, trying to charge, yet finding themoatwherever it turned.And theone smallbridge sohard to locate inafrenzy. It’s no foolish notion, that this was once such a place ofslaughter.Tellme,boy,whatdoyoufindwhenyoulookup?”

Edwin, seeing the circle of skyhigh above, said: “It’s open at thetop,warrior.Likeachimney.”

“Yousaysomethinginterestingthere.Let’shearitagain.”

“It’slikeachimney,warrior.”

“Whatdoyoumakeofit?”

“If theancientsused thisplace for their slaughter,warrior, they’dhavebeenable tobuilda fire justwherewenowstand.Theycouldhavejointedtheanimal,roastedthemeat,thesmokeescapinguptothesky.”

“It’slikely,boy,justasyousay.IwonderiftheseChristianmonkshave any inkling of what went on here once? These gentlemen, I

fancy, come inside this tower for its quiet and seclusion. See howthick is this circlingwall.Hardly a sound comes through it, thoughthecrowswereshriekingasweentered.Andthewaythelightcomesfromonhigh.Itmustremindthemoftheirgod’sgrace.Whatdoyousay,boy?”

“The gentlemen might come in here and pray, right enough,warrior.Thoughthisground’stoosoiledtokneelon.”

“Perhaps they pray standing, guessing little how this was once aplace of slaughter and burning. What else do you see looking up,boy?”

“Nothing,sir.”

“Nothing?”

“Onlythesteps,warrior.”

“Ah,thesteps.Tellmeaboutthesteps.”

“Theyfirstriseoverthemoat,thencircleandcircle,bendingwiththeroundnessofthewall.Theyrisetilltheyreachtheskyatthetop.”

“That’swellobserved.Nowlistencarefully.”Wistansteppedcloserand lowered his voice. “This place, not just this old tower, but thisentireplace,allofwhatmentodaycallthismonastery,I’dwagerwasonce a hillfort built by our Saxon forefathers in times ofwar. So itcontains many cunning traps to welcome invading Britons.” Thewarrior moved away and slowly paced the perimeter of the floor,staringdownintothemoat.Eventuallyhelookedupagainandsaid:“Imaginethisplaceafort,boy.Thesiegebrokenaftermanydays,theenemypouringin.Fightingineveryyard,oneverywall.Nowpicturethis. Two of our Saxon cousins, out there in the yard, hold back alargebodyofBritons.Theyfightbravely,buttheenemy’stoogreatinnumberandourheroesmustretreat.Let’ssupposetheyretreathere,intothisverytower.Theyskipacrossthelittlebridgeandturntofacetheirfoesatthisveryspot.TheBritonsgrowconfident.Theyhaveourcousinscornered.Theypressinwiththeirswordsandaxes,hurryoverthebridgetowardsourheroes.Ourbravekinbringdownthefirstofthem,butsoonmustretreatfurther.Lookthere,boy.Theyretreatupthosewindingstairsalongthewall.StillmoreBritonscrossthemoatuntil this space where we stand is filled. Yet the Britons’ greaternumberscan’tyetbeturnedtoadvantage.Forourbravecousinsfight

two abreast on the stairs, and the invaders can butmeet them twoagainst two. Our heroes are skilled, and though they retreat higherand higher, the invaders cannot overwhelm them. As Britons fall,thosefollowingtaketheirplace,thenfallintheirturn.Butsurelyourcousins grow weary. Higher and higher they retreat, the invaderspursue them stair by stair. Butwhat’s this?What’s this, Edwin?Doour kin finally lose their nerve? They turn and run the remainingcirclesofsteps,onlynowandthenstrikingbehindthem.Thisissurelytheend.TheBritonsaretriumphant.Thosewatchingfromdownheresmilelikehungrymenbeforeabanquet.Butlookcarefully,boy.Whatdoyousee?WhatdoyouseeasourSaxoncousinsnearthathaloofsky above?” Grasping Edwin’s shoulders, Wistan repositioned him,pointinguptotheopening.“Speak,boy.Whatdoyousee?”

“Ourcousinsspringatrap,sir.TheyretreatupwardsonlytodrawintheBritonsasantstoahoneypot.”

“Wellsaid,lad!Andhow’sthetrapmade?”

Edwin considered for a moment, then said: “Just before thestairwayreachesitshighestpoint,warrior,Icanseewhatlooksfromheretobeanalcove.Orisitadoorway?”

“Good.Andwhatdoyousupposehidesthere?”

“Canitbeadozenofourgreatestwarriors?Thentogetherwithourtwocousins,theycanfighttheirwaydownagaintilltheycutintotheranksoftheBritonsherebelow.”

“Thinkagain,boy.”

“Afiercebear,then,warrior.Oralion.”

“Whendidyoulastmeetalion,boy?”

“Fire,warrior.There’sfirebehindthatalcove.”

“Wellsaid,boy.Wecan’tknowforsurewhathappenedsolongago.YetI’dwagerthat’swhatwaitedupthere.Inthatlittlealcove,hardlyglimpsedfromdownhere,wasatorch,ormaybetwoorthree,blazingbehindthatwall.Tellmetherest,boy.”

“Ourcousinsthrowthetorchesdown.”

“What,ontotheheadsoftheenemy?”

“No,warrior.Downintothemoat.”

“Themoat?Filledwithwater?”

“No,warrior.Themoat’sfilledwithfirewood.Justlikethefirewoodwe’vesweatedtocut.”

“Justso,boy.Andwe’llcutmoreyetbeforethemoon’shigh.Andwe’llfindourselvesplentyofdryhaytoo.Achimney,yousaid,boy.You’reright.It’sachimneywestandinnow.Ourforefathersbuiltitforjustsuchapurpose.Whyelseatowerhere,whenamanlookingfrom the top has no better view than one at the wall outside? Butimagine,boy,atorchdroppingintothisso-calledmoat.Thenanother.When we circled this place earlier, I saw at its back, close to theground, openings in the stone. That means a strong wind from theeast, such aswe have tonight,will fan the flames ever higher. AndhowaretheBritonstoescapetheinferno?Asolidwallaroundthem,only a single narrow bridge to freedom, and themoat itself ablaze.But let’s leave this place, boy. It may be this ancient tower growsdispleasedweshouldguesssomanyofhissecrets.”

Wistanturnedtowardstheplanks,butEdwinwasstillgazinguptothetopofthetower.

“Butwarrior,”hesaid.“Ourtwobravecousins.Musttheyburnintheflameswiththeirfoes?”

“If they did, wouldn’t it be a glorious bargain? Yet perhaps itneedn’t come to that.Perhapsour twocousins, evenas the scaldingheat rises, race to the rim of the opening and leap from the top.Wouldtheydothat,boy?Eventhoughtheylackwings?”

“Theyhavenowings,”Edwinsaid,“but theircomradesmayhavebroughtawagonbehindthetower.Awagonloadeddeepwithhay.”

“It’spossible,boy.Whoknowswhatwentonhereinancientdays?Now let’s finishwith our dreaming and cut a littlemorewood. Forsurely these good monks face many chilly nights yet before thesummercomes.”

In a battle, there was no time for elaborate exchanges ofinformation.Aswiftlook,awaveofahand,abarkedwordoverthenoise:thatwasalltruewarriorsneededtoconveytheirwishestooneanother. It had been in such a spiritWistan hadmade his thoughtsclear that afternoon in the tower, and Edwin had let him downutterly.

Buthad thewarriorexpected toomuch?EvenoldSteffahadonlytalkedofEdwin’sgreatpromise,whathewouldbecomeoncehehadbeentaughtthewarrior’sways.Wistanhadyettofinishtraininghim,sohow was Edwin to respond with such understanding? And now, itseems,thewarriorwaswounded,butsurelythiscouldnotbeEdwin’sfaultalone.

Theyoungmonkhadpausedbytheedgeofthestreamtounfastenhis shoes. “This is where we ford,” he said. “The bridge is muchfurther down and the land there’s too open.Wemay be seen fromeven the next hilltop.” Then pointing to Edwin’s shoes, he said:“Thoselookskilfullycrafted.Didyoumakethemyourself?”

“MasterBaldwinmadethemforme.Themostskilledshoemakerinthevillage,eventhoughhehasfitseveryfullmoon.”

“Offwith them.A soaking’s sure towreck them.Canyou see thesteppingstones?Loweryourheadmore,andtrytogazebeneaththewater’ssurface.There,youseethem?That’sourpathway.Keeptheminyoursightandyou’llstaydry.”

Again,theyoungmonk’stonehadsomethingcurtaboutit.CoulditbethatsincetheyhadsetoffhehadhadtimetopiecetogetherinhismindEdwin’sroleinwhathadoccurred?Atthestartoftheirjourney,theyoungmonkhadnotonlybeenwarmerinmanner,hehadhardlybeenabletostoptalking.

They had met in the chilly corridor outside Father Jonus’s cell,where Edwin had been waiting while several voices, lowered butpassionate,arguedfromwithin.Thedreadofwhathemightsoonbetold had mounted, and Edwin had been relieved when instead ofbeing summoned inside, he had seen the young monk emerge, acheerfulsmileonhisface.

“I’vebeenchosen tobeyourguide,”hehadsaid triumphantly, inEdwin’slanguage.“FatherJonussayswe’retogoatonceandslipoutunseen.Bebrave,youngcousin,you’llbeatyourbrother’ssidebeforelong.”

The young monk had an odd way of walking, clutching himselftightlylikesomeoneintenselycold,botharmslostwithinhisrobe,sothatEdwin,followinghimdownthemountainpath,hadwonderedatfirstifhewasoneofthosebornwithmissinglimbs.Butassoonasthemonasterywassafelybehindthem,theyoungmonkhadfalleninstep

besidehim,andproducingathin,longarmhadplaceditsupportivelyaroundEdwin’sshoulders.

“It was foolish of you to come back as you did, and after you’dmadegoodyourescape.FatherJonuswasangrytohearofit.Buthereyou are, safely away again, andwith luck no one’s thewiser aboutyour return. But what an affair this is! Is your brother always soquarrelsome?Or is it oneof the soldiersmade some fierce insult tohim in passing? Perhaps once you reach his bedside, young cousin,you’llaskhimhowitallbegan,fornoneofuscanmakeheadortailof it. If itwashewho insulted the soldiers, then itmusthavebeensomething strong indeed, for they as one forgot whatever purposebroughtthemtoseetheabbot,andturningintowildmen,setabouttrying to extract payment for his boldness. I myself woke at thesoundsoftheshouting,eventhoughmyownchamber’sfarfromthecourtyard. I ran there inalarm,only to standhelpless alongsidemyfellowmonks,watchinginhorrorallthatunfolded.Yourbrother,theysoontoldme,hadrunintotheancienttowertoescapethewrathofthesoldiers,andthoughtheyrushedinafterhimwithamindtotearhimlimbfromlimb,itseemshebegantofightthemasbestheknew.Andasurprisingmatchheseemedtobe,eventhoughtheywerethirtyormoreandhejustoneSaxonshepherd.Wewatchedexpectinganymomenttoseehisbloodyremainsbroughtout,andinsteadit’ssoldierafter soldier running from that tower in panic, or staggering outcarryingwounded comrades.We could hardly believe our eyes!Wewere praying for the quarrel soon to end, forwhatever the originalinsult,suchviolence’ssurelyuncalledfor.Yetitwentonandon,andthen, young cousin, the dreadful accident occurred. Who knows itwasn’t God himself, frowning on so black a quarrelwithin his holybuildings,pointeda fingerandstruck themwith fire?More likely itwasoneof the soldiers runningbackand forthwith torches trippedandmadehis great error.Thehorror of it! Suddenly the towerwasablaze! And who’d think an old damp tower could offer so muchkindling?YetblazeitdidandLordBrennus’smentogetherwithyourbrother caught within. They’d have done better forgetting theirquarrelatonceandrunningoutasfastastheycould,butIfancytheythought instead to fight the flames, and saw only too late the firesengulfing them. An accident of true ghastliness, and the few whocame out did so just to die twisting horribly on the ground. Yetmiracleofmiracles,youngcousin,yourbrotheritturnsoutescaped!

Father Ninian found him wandering the darkness of the grounds,dazedandwounded,butstillalive,evenastherestofuswatchedtheblazing tower and prayed for the trappedmen inside. Your brotherlives, but Father Jonus, who himself treated his wounds, hascounselled the few of us who know this news to keep it a solemnsecret, even from the abbot himself. For he fears if the news getsfurther,LordBrennuswillsendoutmoresoldiersseekingvengeance,notcaringthatmostdiedbyaccidentandnotbyyourbrother’shand.You’ddowellnottowhisperawordofittoanyone,atleastnotuntilyou’rebothfarfromthiscountry.FatherJonuswasangryyoushouldriskyourselfreturningtothemonastery,yethe’scontentedhecanthemoreeasilyreuniteyouwithyourbrother.‘Theymusttraveltogetheroutofthiscountry,’hesaid.ThebestofmenisFatherJonus,andstillourwisest, even afterwhat the birds have done to him. I dare sayyourbrotheroweshimandFatherNinianhislife.”

But that had been earlier. Now the young monk had becomedistant,andhisarmswereonceagaintuckedfirmlywithinhisrobe.AsEdwin followedhimacross the stream, tryinghis best to see therocksbeneaththeswiftlyrunningwater,thethoughtcametohimthatheshouldmakeacleanbreastofittothewarrior;tellhimabouthismotherandhowshehadcalledtohim.Ifheexplaineditallfromthestart,honestlyand frankly, itwaspossibleWistanwouldunderstandandgivehimanotherchance.

A shoe ineachhand,Edwin sprang lightly towards thenext rock,faintlycheeredbythispossibility.

PartIII

Gawain’sFirstReverie

Those dark widows. For what purpose did God place them on thismountainpathbeforeme?Doeshewishtotestmyhumility?Isitnotenoughhewatchesmesavethatgentlecouple,thewoundedboyalso,slay a devil dog, sleep barely an hour on dew-soaked leaves beforerisingtolearnmytasksareyetfarfromdone,thatHoraceandImustset off again, not down to some sheltering village, but up anothersteeppathbeneathagreysky?Yetheplaced thosewidows there inmy way, no doubt about it, and I did well to address themcourteously.Evenastheysanktofoolishinsultsandthrowingclumpsof earth at Horace’s hindquarters—as though Horace could bepanicked into an unseemly gallop!—I gave them not so much as abackwardglance, speaking instead intoHorace’s ear, remindinghimwemustbearallsuchtrialswell,forafargreateroneawaitedusupin those distant peaks where storm clouds now gathered. Besides,thoseweatheredwomenwiththeirflappingragswereonceinnocentmaidens,somepossessingbeautyandgrace,orat least thefreshnessthatwilloftenserveaswellinaman’seye.Wasshenotthatway,theone I sometimes rememberwhen there stretchesbeforemeasmuchland,emptyandcompanionless,asIcouldrideonadrearyautumn’sday?Nobeautywasshe,yetdelightfulenoughforme.Ionlyglimpsedheronce,whenIwasyoung,anddidIevenspeaktoherthen?Yetshereturnssometimesinmymind’seye,andIbelieveshehasvisitedmeinmysleep,forIoftenawakewithamysteriouscontentmentevenasmydreamsfadefromme.

IfeltthelingeringjoysofjustsuchafeelingasHoracewokemethismorning,stampingthesoftforestgroundwhereIhadlaindownafterthe night’s exertions. He knows full well I no longer have the oldstamina,thataftersuchanightitisnoeasythingformetosleepbutashorthourbeforesettingoffoncemore.Yetseeingthesunalreadyhighovertheshadyroofoftheforest,hewouldnotletmesleepon.He stampedhis feetuntil I rose, chainmail complaining. I curse thisarmourmoreandmore.Has it really savedme frommuch?Asmallwoundortwoatbest.Itisthesword,notthearmour,Ihavetothankfor this abiding health. I rose and observed the leaves around me.

Whysomanyfallenandthesummernotyetold?Dothesetreesail,even as they shelter us? A shaft of sun breaking through the highfoliagefellacrossHorace’smuzzle,andIwatchedhimshakehisnosefromsidetoside,asthoughthatbeamwereaflysenttotormenthim.Hehadno pleasant night either, listening to noises of the forest allabout him, wondering to what dangers his knight had gone.DispleasedthoughIwasthathearousedmesosoon,whenIsteppedtowardshim,itwasonlytoholdhisneckgentlyinbothmyarms,andforabriefmomentrestmyheadinhismane.Ahardmasterhehas,Iknowthat. Ipushhimonwhen Iknowhimtobeweary,cursehimwhenhehasdonenowrong.Andall thismetalasmuchburden forhimasforme.Howmuchfurtherwillweridetogether?Ipattedhimgently, saying, “We’ll find a friendly village soon, andyou’ll have abetterbreakfastthantheoneyoujusthad.”

IspokethiswaybelievingtheproblemofMasterWistansettled.Butwewerehardlydown thepath,not yet outof thewoods,whenwecameacrossthebedraggledmonk,hisshoesbroken,hurryingbeforeustoLordBrennus’scamp,andwhatdoeshetellusbutthatMasterWistanhasescaped themonastery, leavinghispursuersof thenightdead,manynomorethancharredbones.Whatafellow!Strangehowmyheartfillswithjoytohearthenews,eventhoughitbringsbackaheavy task I thought behind us. So Horace and I put aside ourthoughtsofhayandroastmeatandgoodcompany,andnowweclimbuphill once more. Thankfully, at least, we travel further from thatcursedmonastery.Inmyheart,itistrue,IamrelievedMasterWistandidnotperishatthehandsofthosemonksandthewretchedBrennus.But what a fellow! The blood he sheds each day would make theSevernoverflow!Hewaswounded,thebedraggledmonkthought,butwho can rely on one such as Master Wistan to lie down and dieeasily?HowfoolishIwastolettheboyEdwinrunoffthatway,andnowwhowillwageragainstthetwoofthemfindingeachother?Sofoolish, yet I was weary then, and besides, little imagined MasterWistancouldescape.Whatafellow!Hadhebeenamanofourday,Saxonthoughheis,hewouldhavewonArthur’sadmiration.Eventhebest of us would have feared to meet him as a foe. Yet yesterday,whenIsawhimmeetBrennus’ssoldierincombat,Imighthaveseenasmall weakness on his left side. Or was it his clever ploy of themoment?IfIwatchhimfightoncemore,Iwillknowbetter.Askilfulwarriorallthesame,anditwouldtakeaknightofArthurtosuspect

it, but I thought it so, as Iwatched the fight. I said tomyself, lookthere,asmalllapseontheleftside.Oneacannyopponentmightjustexploit.Yetwhichofuswouldnothaverespectedhim?

Yetthesedarkwidows,whydotheycrossourpath?Isourdaynotbusy enough?Our patience not yet sufficiently taxed?We’ll stop atthenextcrest,IwassayingtoHoraceaswecameuptheslope.We’llstopandresteventhoughblackcloudsgatherandwemostlikelyfaceastorm.AndiftherebenotreesI’llstillsitdownrightthereonthescrubbedheatherandwe shall rest all the same.Yetwhen the roadfinallylevelled,whatdoweseebutgreatbirdsperchedontheirrocks,andtheyriseasone,nottoflyintothedarkeningsky,buttowardsus.Then I saw they were no birds, but old women in flapping cloaks,assemblingonthepathbeforeus.

Why choose such a barren spot to gather?Not a cairn, nor a drywelltomarkit.Nothintreenorshrubtocomfortawayfarerfromsunor rain.Just thesechalky rocks fromwhich they rose, sunk into theearthoneithersideoftheroad.Let’sbesure,IsaidtoHorace,let’sbesuremyoldeyesdon’tletmedownandthesearenotbanditscometosetuponus.Buttherewasnoneedtodrawthesword—itsbladestillstinks of that devil dog’s slime, no matter I thrust it deep in thegroundbeforeIslept—fortheywereoldwomensureenough,thoughwemighthavemadegooduseofashieldortwoagainstthem.Ladies,letus remember themas ladies,Horace,nowweare finallybeyondthem,foraretheynottobepitied?Wewillnotcallthemhags,eveniftheirmanners temptus to.Letus remember thatonce, someamongthematleastpossessedgraceandbeauty.

“Herehecomes,”criedone,“theimpostorknight!”Otherstookupthe cry as I came closer, and we might have trotted through theirranks,butIamnotonetoshyfromadversity.SoIbroughtHoracetoahaltrightintheirmidst,thoughgazingtowardsthenextpeakasifstudying the gathering clouds.Onlywhen their rags flappedaroundme,andIcouldfeeltheblastoftheirshouts,didIgazedownfromthesaddleatthem.Weretherefifteen?Twenty?HandsreachedtotouchHorace’sflanks,andIwhisperedtocalmhim.ThenIstraightenedandsaid,“Ladies,ifwearetotalk,youmustceasethisnoise!”Towhichtheyquietened,but their looksstayedangry,and I said then,“Whatdoyouwantofme,ladies?Whycomeuponmethisway?”Towhichonewomancallsup,“Weknowyouforthefoolishknighttootimidto

complete the taskgivenhim.”Andanother, “Ifyou’ddone longagowhatGodaskedofyou,wouldwebewanderingthelandinwoethisway?”Andyet another, “Hedreadshis duty! See it onhis face.Hedreadshisduty!”

I contained my anger and asked them to explain themselves.Whereupon one a little more civil than the rest stepped forward.“Forgiveus,knight. It’s longdayswe’vewanderedunder theseskiesandtoseeyouinpersoncomeridingboldlyourway,wecannotbutmakeyouhearourlaments.”

“Mistress,” I said to her, “I may look burdened by years. But IremainaknightofthegreatArthur.Ifyou’lltellmeyourtroubles,I’llgladlyhelpyouasIcan.”

Tomydismaythewomen—theciviloneincluded—allbrokeintoasarcasticlaugh,andthenavoicesaid:“Hadyoudoneyourdutylongagoand slain the she-dragon,we’dnotbewanderingdistressed thisway.”

Thisshookme,andIcriedout,“Whatdoyouknowofit?WhatdoyouknowofQuerig?”butsawintimetheneedforrestraint.AndsoIspokecalmly:“Explainit,ladies,whatcompelsyoutowalktheroadsthisway?”Towhichaparchedvoicebehindsaid,“IfyouaskwhyIwander,knight,I’llhappilytellyou.Whentheboatmanputtomehisquestions,mybeloved already in the boat and reaching out to helpmein,Ifoundmymosttreasuredmemoriesrobbedfromme.Ididn’tknowthenbutknownow,Querig’sbreathwas the thief robbedme,theverycreatureyouweretohaveslainlongago.”

“Howcanyouknowthis,mistress?”Idemanded,nolongerabletohide my consternation. For how can it be such vagabonds know asecretsowellguarded?Towhichthecivilonethensmilesstrangelyandsays,“We’rewidows,knight.There’slittlecanbehiddenfromusnow.”

Only thendo I feelHoracegivea tremble, and Ihearmyself ask,“Whatareyou,ladies?Areyoulivingordead?”Towhichthewomenonce more break into laughter, a jeering sound to it that makesHorace shift a hoof uneasily. I pat him gentlywhile I say, “Ladies,why do you laugh?Was that so foolish a question?”And the raspyvoicebehindsays,“Seehowfearfulheis!Nowhefearsusasreadilyashedoesthedragon!”

“What nonsense is this, lady?” I shoutmore forcefully, asHoracetakesastepbackagainstmywishes,andIhavetotugtosteadyhim.“I fearnodragon,andfierce thoughQuerig is, I’ve facedfargreaterevils inmy time. If I’vebeen slow to slayher, it’sonlybecause shehidesherselfwithgreatcunninginthosehighrocks.Yourebukeme,madam,butwhatdowehearofQuerignow?Atimewasshethoughtnothingofraidingavillageormoreeachmonth,yetboyshavegrownintomensincewelastheardofthelike.SheknowsIclosein,soshedaresnotshowherselfbeyondthesehills.”

EvenasIspoke,onewomanopenedherraggycloakandaclumpofmudstruckHorace’sneck.Intolerable,ItoldHorace,wemustgoon.What can these old crones know of our mission? I nudged him tomove forward but hewas strangely frozen, and I had to dig inmyspur tomake him push forward. Thankfully the dark figures partedbeforeusandIwasgazingagainatthedistantpeaks.Myheartsankat the thoughtof thosedesolatehighgrounds.Even thecompanyofthese unholy hags, I thought, might be preferable to those bleakwinds.Butas thoughtodisabusemeofsuchsentiments, thewomenstarteduptheirchantbehindme,andIfeltmoremudflungourway.Butwhatdotheychant?Dotheydarecry“coward”?Ihadamindtoturn and showmywrath, yet rememberedmyself in time. Coward,coward.Whatdotheyknow?Weretheythere?WeretheytherethatdaylongagowerodeouttofaceQuerig?Wouldtheyhavecalledmecoward then,oranyofus five?Andevenafter thatgreatmission—fromwhichonlythreereturned—didInotthen,ladies,withhardlyarest,hurrytothevalley’sedgetomakegoodmypromisetotheyoungmaid?

Edra, she later told me was her name. She was no beauty, anddressedinthesimplestweeds,butlikethatotherIsometimesdreamof, she had a bloom tugged my heart. I saw her on the roadsidecarryingherhoeinbothherarms.Onlylatelybecomeawoman,shewas small and slight, and the sight of such innocence, wanderingunprotected so near the horrors from which I just came made itimpossibleformetorideby,evenifIwenttosuchamissionasIdid.

“Turn back, maiden,” I called down from the stallion, this beingbefore the days of Horace, when even I was young. “What greatfoolishnessmakes you go that way? Don’t you know a battle ragesdowninthisvalley?”

“Iknowitwell,sir,”shesays,andnofearmeetingmyeye.“It’salong journey I’vemade to come this far, and soon I’ll be down thevalleyandjointhebattle.”

“Has some sprite bewitched you,maiden? I came from the valleyfloorjustnowwhereseasonedwarriorsspewouttheirstomachsfromdread.I’dnothaveyouhearevenadistantechoofit.Andwhythathoesolargeforyou?”

“There’saSaxonlordIknowisdowninthevalleynow,andIpraywithallmyheartheisn’tfallenandGodwillprotecthimwell.ForIwill have him die atmy hands only, afterwhat he did tomy dearmotherandsisters,andIcarrythishoetodothework.Itbreakstheground of a winter’s morning, so it will do well enough on thisSaxon’sbones.”

Iwasobligedthentodismountandholdherbythearmevenasshetriedtopullaway.Ifshestilllivestoday—Edra,shelatertoldmewashername—shewouldnowbenearyourage, ladies. Itmayevenbeshewasamongyou justnow,howwould I know?Nogreatbeauty,butlikethatother,herinnocencespoketome.“Letmego,sir!”shecries, towhichIsay,“You’llnotgodownintothatvalley.Thesightfromtheedgealonewillmakeyouswoon.”“I’mnoweakling,sir,”shecries. “Let me go!” And there we stand on the roadside like twoquarrellingchildren,andIcancalmheronlybysaying:

“Maiden,Iseenothingwilldissuadeyou.Butthinkhowremotethechancesofyourfindingalonethevengeanceyoucrave.Yetwithmyhelp your chances will improve manyfold. So be patient and sit awhileoutofthissun.Lookthere,sitbeneaththateldertree,andwaitformyreturn.Igotojoinfourcomradesonamissionwhichthoughgravewithdanger,won’tkeepmelong.ShouldIperishyou’llseemecome thisway again tied across the saddle of this same horse, andyou’llknowIcanno longerkeepmypromise.Otherwise I swear I’llreturnandwe’lltogethergodowntomakeyourdreamofvengeancetrue.Bepatient,maiden,andifyourcauseisjust,asIbelieveittobe,Godwillseethislorddoesn’tfallbeforewereachhim.”

Were these thewords of a coward, ladies, uttered that very day,evenasIrodeouttofaceQuerig?Andonceweweredonewithourtask,andIsawIhadbeenspared—thoughtwoofusfivehadnot—Ihastenedback,wearyasIwas,tothatvalley’sedgeandtheeldertreewhere themaid stillwaited,herhoe inherarms.She sprang toher

feet,andthesightofheragaintuggedmyheart.YetwhenItriedoncemoretoswayherfromherintent,forIdreadedtoseeherenterthatvalley, she said angrily, “Are you false, sir?Will younot keep yourpromisetome?”SoIplacedheronthesaddle—sheheldthereinevenassheclaspedthehoetoherbosom—andIledonfootbothhorseandmaidendownthevalleyslopes.Didsheblanchaswefirstheardthedin?OrwhenontheoutskirtsofthebattlewemetdesperateSaxons,theirpursuerson theirheels?Did shewiltwhenexhaustedwarriorsgropedacrossourpathtrailingwoundsalongtheground?SmalltearsappearedandIsawherhoetremble,butshedidnotturnaway.Forhereyeshadtheirtask,searchingthatbloodyfieldleftandright,farandnear.ThenImountedthehorsemyself,andcarryingherbeforemeasifsheweresomegentlelamb,werodetogetherintothethick.DidIlooktimidthen,thrashingwithmysword,coveringherwithmyshield, turning the horse this way and that until finally the battletossed us both into themud? But shewas quickly on her feet, andrecovering her hoe, began to tread a path through themashed andquarteredheaps.Ourearsfilledwiththestrangecries,butsheseemednottohear,thewayagoodChristianmaidrefusesthelewdshoutsofthecoarsemen shepasses. Iwasyoung thenandnimbleof foot, soran aboutherwithmy sword, cuttingdownanywhowoulddoherharm, sheltering herwithmy shield from the arrows that regularlyfellamongus.Thenshesawatlasttheoneshesought,yetitwasasifwewereadriftonchoppywavesandthoughan isleseemsnear, thetidessomehowkeepitbeyondreach.Itwasthatwayforusthatday.Ifoughtandbatteredandkepthersafe,yetitseemedaneternitytillwestoodbeforehim,andeventhenthreemenspeciallytoguardhim.Ipassedmyshieldtothemaid,saying,“Shelterwell,foryourprizeisalmostyours,”andthoughIfacedthree,andIsawtheywerewarriorsofskill,IdefeatedthemonebyonetillIfacedtheSaxonlordshesohated.His kneeswere thickwith the gore hewaded through, but Isawthiswasnowarrior,andIbroughthimdowntillhelaybreathingontheearth,hislegsnomoreusetohim,staringhishatredupatthesky.Soshecamethenandstoodabovehim, theshield tossedaside,and the look in her eyes chilledmy blood over all else to be seenacross thatghastly field.Thenshebrought thehoedownnotwithaswing, but a small prod, then another, theway she is searching forpotatoesinthesoil,untilIammadetocry,“Finishit,maiden,orI’lldoitmyself!”towhichshesays,“Leavemenow,sir.Ithankyouforyourservice,butnowit’sdone.”“Onlyhalfdone,maiden,”Icry,“till

Iseeyousafefromthisvalley,”butshenolongerlistensandgoesonwithher foulwork. Iwouldhavequarrelledfurther,but itwasthenheappearedfromthecrowd.ImeanMasterAxl,asInowknowhim,ayoungermanthatdaytobesure,butawisecountenanceeventhen,andwhenIsawhimitwasasifthenoiseofbattlerecededtoahusharoundus.

“Whystandsoexposed,sir?”Isaytohim.“Andyourswordstillinitssheath?Takeupafallenshieldatleastandcoveryourself.”

Buthekeepsafarawaylook,asifhestandsinameadowofdaisiesonafragrantmorning.“IfGodchoosestodirectanarrowthisway,”hesays,“I’llnot impede it.SirGawain, I’mpleased toseeyouwell.Areyoulatelyarrived,orhaveyoubeenherefromitsstart?”

This as ifwemeet at some summer fair, and I amobliged to cryagain,“Coveryourself,sir!Thefieldremainsthickwiththefoe.”Andwhen he continues to survey the scenery, I say, remembering hisquestiontome:“Iwashereatthebattle’sstart,butArthurthenchosemeasoneof fivetoridetoamissionofgreat import. I’monlynowreturnedfromit.”

AtlastIdrawhisattention.“Amissionofgreatimport?Anddiditgowell?”

“Sadly, two comrades lost, but we accomplished it to MasterMerlin’ssatisfaction.”

“Master Merlin,” he says. “A sage he may be, but that old manmakesme shudder.”Thenheglances aboutoncemore, saying, “I’msorry tohear of your lost friends.Manymorewill bemissedbeforethedaycloses.”

“Yet the victory’s surely ours,” I say. “These cursed Saxons.WhyfightonthiswaywithonlyDeathtothankthemforit?”

“Ibelievetheydosoforsheerangerandhatredofus,”hesays.“Foritmustbebynowwordhasreachedtheirearsofwhat’sbeendonetotheirinnocentsleftintheirvillages.I’mmyselfjustcomefromthem,sowhywouldthenewsnotreachalsotheSaxonranks?”

“Whatnewsdoyouspeakof,MasterAxl?”

“Newsoftheirwomen,childrenandelderly, leftunprotectedafteroursolemnagreementnottoharmthem,nowallslaughteredbyour

hands,eventhesmallestbabes.Ifthiswerelatelydonetous,wouldourhatredexhaustitself?Wouldwenotalsofighttothelastastheydo,eachfreshwoundgivenabalm?”

“Whydwellonthismatter,MasterAxl?Ourvictorytoday’ssecureandwillbeafamousone.”

“WhydoIdwellonit?Sir,thesearetheveryvillagesIbefriendedinArthur’sname. InonevillagetheycalledmetheKnightofPeace,andtodayIwatchedameredozenofourmenridethroughitwithnohintofmercy, theonlyones tooppose themboysnot yet grown toourshoulders.”

“I’msaddenedtohearthisnews.ButIpressyouagain,sir,pickupashieldatleast.”

“I came upon village by village the same, and our own menboastingofwhattheydid.”

“Don’t blame yourself, sir, normyuncle. The great lawyou oncebrokered was a thing truly wondrous while it held. How manyinnocents,BritonorSaxon,weresparedovertheyearsforit?Thatitdidn’tholdforeverisnoneofyourdoing.”

“Yet theybelieved in ourbargain till this day. Itwas Iwon theirtrust where first there was only fear and hatred. Today our deedsmakemealiarandabutcher,andItakenojoyinArthur’svictory.”

“Whatwillyoudowithsuchwildwords,sir? If it’s treacheryyoucontemplate,let’sfaceoneanotherwithnomoredelay!”

“Youruncle’ssafefromme,sir.Yethowdoyourejoice,SirGawain,inavictorywonatthisprice?”

“MasterAxl,whatwasdoneintheseSaxontownstodaymyunclewouldhavecommandedonlywithaheavyheart,knowingofnootherway for peace to prevail. Think, sir. Those small Saxon boys youlament would soon have become warriors burning to avenge theirfathers fallen today. The small girls soon bearing more in theirwombs,andthiscircleofslaughterwouldneverbebroken.Lookhowdeep runs the lust forvengeance!Lookevennow,at that fairmaid,oneIescortedheremyself,watchhertherestillatherwork!Yetwithtoday’sgreatvictorya rare chance comes.Wemayonceand forallseverthisevilcircle,andagreatkingmustactboldlyonit.Maythisbeafamousday,MasterAxl,fromwhichourlandcanbeinpeacefor

yearstocome.”

“I fail tounderstandyou, sir.Though todayweslaughtera seaofSaxons,betheywarriorsorbabes,thereareyetmanymoreacrosstheland.Theycomefromtheeast,theylandbyshiponourcoasts,theybuildnewvillagesbytheday.Thiscircleofhateishardlybroken,sir,but forged instead in ironbywhat’sdone today. I’llgonowtoyouruncle and report what I’ve seen. I would see from his face if hebelievesGodwillsmileonsuchdeeds.”

Aslaughtererofbabes.Isthatwhatwewerethatday?Andwhatofthat one I escorted, what became of her?Was she among you justnow,ladies?WhygatheraboutmethiswayasIridetomyduty?Letanoldmangoinpeace.Aslaughtererofbabes.YetIwasnotthere,andevenhad Ibeen,whatgood forme toarguewithagreatking,andhemyuncletoo?Iwasbutayoungknightthen,andbesides,ishenotprovedrighteachyearthatpasses?Didyounotallgrowoldina time of peace? So leave us to go our way without insults at ourback. The Law of the Innocents, amighty law indeed, one to bringmencloser toGod—soArthurhimself always said,orwas itMasterAxlcalleditthat?WecalledhimAxelumorAxelusthen,butnowhegoesbyAxl,andhasafinewife.Whytauntme,ladies?Isitmyfaultyougrieve?Mytimewillcomebeforelong,andIwillnotturnbacktoroamthislandasyoudo.Ishallgreettheboatmancontentedly,enterhis rocking boat, the waters lapping all about, and I may sleep awhile,thesoundofhisoarinmyears.AndIwillmovefromslumberto half-waking, and see the sun sunk low over the water, and theshoremoved further still, and nodmyself back into dreams till theboatman’s voice stirs me gently once more. And were he to askquestions, as some say he will, I would answer honestly, for whathave I left tohide? Ihadnowife, thoughat times I longedforone.Yet Iwasagoodknightwhoperformedhisduty to theend.Letmesayso,andhewill see Idonot lie. Iwillnotmindhim.Thegentlesunset,hisshadowfallingovermeashemovesfromonesideofhisvesseltotheother.Butthiswillwait.TodayHoraceandImustclimbbelow this grey sky, up thebarren slope towards thenext peak, forourworkisunfinishedandQuerigawaitsus.

ChapterTen

He had never intended to deceive the warrior. It was as if thedeceptionitselfhadcomequietlyoverthefieldstoenvelopthetwoofthem.

Thecooper’shutappearedtobebuiltinsideadeepditch,itsthatchroofsoclosetotheearththatEdwin,loweringhisheadtopassunderit,felthewasclimbingintoahole.Sohehadbeenpreparedforthedarkness, but the stifling warmth—and the thick woodsmoke—tookhimaback,andheannouncedhisarrivalwithafitofcoughing.

“I’mpleasedtoseeyousafe,youngcomrade.”

Wistan’s voice came out of the darkness beyond the smoulderingfire,thenEdwindiscernedthewarrior’sformonaturfbed.

“Areyoubadlyhurt,warrior?”

AsWistansatup,slowlymovingintotheglow,Edwinsawhisface,neckandshoulderswerecovered inperspiration.Yet thehands thatreachedtothefireweretremblingasiffromcold.

“Thewoundsare trivial.But theybroughtwith themthis fever. Itwasworse earlier, and I’ve littlememoryof cominghere.Thegoodmonks say they tied me to the mare’s back, and I fancy I wasmuttering all thewhile aswhenplaying the slack-jawed fool in theforest.What of you, comrade?Youbearnowounds, I trust, beyondtheoneyoucarriedbefore.”

“I’mperfectlywell,warrior, yet standbeforeyou in shame. I’mapoorcomradetoyou,sleepingwhileyoufought.Cursemeandbanishmefromyoursight,forit’llbeathingwellearned.”

“Notsofast,MasterEdwin.Ifyoufailedmelastnight,I’llsoontellyouawaytomakeupyourdebttome.”

Thewarriorcarefullybroughtbothfeettotheearthfloor,reacheddownandtossedalogontotheflames.Edwinsawthenhowhisleftarmwasboundtightlyinsacking,andthatonesideofhisfacehadaspreadingbruisethatpartiallyclosedoneeye.

“True,”Wistansaid,“whenIfirstlookeddownfromthetopofthatburningtowerandthewagonwesocarefullypreparedwasn’tthere,I’damind to curseyou.A long fall to stonygroundandhot smokealreadyaroundme.Listening to theagoniesofmyenemiesbelow, Iasked, do Iminglewith them even aswe become ash together?Orbetterbesmashedaloneunderthenightsky?YetbeforeIcouldfindan answer, thewagon arrived after all, tugged bymy ownmare, amonkpullingherbridle.Ihardlyaskedifthismonkwasfriendorfoe,but leapt from that chimneymouth, and our earlierworkwaswellenoughdone,comrade,forthoughIplungedthroughthehayasifitwerewater, Imet nothing to pierceme. I awoke on a table, gentlemonksloyaltoFatherJonusattendingmeallaroundasifIwastheirsupper. The fever must already have taken hold by then, whetherfrom thesewoundsor from thegreatheat, for they say theyhad tomufflemyravingstilltheybroughtmedownhereoutofharm’sway.Butifthegodsfavourus,thefeverwillpasssoonandwe’llsetofftofinishourerrand.”

“Warrior, I still standhere in shame.Evenafter I awoke and sawthesoldiersaroundthetower, I letsomespritepossessme,andfledthemonasterybehind thoseelderlyBritons. I’dbegyou tocursemenow or beatme, but I heard you say there was someway I mightmakeuptoyouforlastnight’sdisgrace.Tellmetheway,warrior,andI’llfallonwhatevertaskyougivemewithimpatience.”

Even as he said this, his mother’s voice had called, resoundingaroundthelittlehovelsoEdwinwashardlysurehehadspokenthesewordsaloud.Buthemusthavedone,forheheardWistansay:

“Do you suppose I chose you for your courage alone, youngcomrade? You’ve remarkable spirit right enough, and if we survivethiserrand,I’llseeyoulearntheskillstomakeyouatruewarrior.Butjust now you’re rough-hewn, not yet a blade. I chose you aboveothers, Master Edwin, because I saw you had the hunter’s gift tomatchyourwarriorspirit.Ararethingindeedtohaveboth.”

“Howcanthatbe,warrior?Iknownothingofhunting.”

“Awolfcub,drinkingitsmother’smilk,canpickupthescentofaprey in thewild. Ibelieve it agiftofnature.Once this fever leavesme,we’llgofurtherintothesehillsandI’llwageryou’llfindtheskyitselfwhispering to youwhichpath to take tillwe standbefore theshe-dragon’sverylair.”

“Warrior, I fear you misplace your faith where it will find noshelter. No kin of mine ever boasted of such skills, and no onesuspectedmeofthem.EvenSteffa,whosawmywarrior’ssoul,nevermentionedsuchskillsasthese.”

“Thenleaveittomealonetobelieveinthem,youngcomrade.I’llneversayyoumadeanysuchboast.Assoonasthisfeverleavesme,we’ll setoff towards thoseeasternhills,whereall talkhas itQuerighasherlair,andI’llfollowinyourfootstepsateachfork.”

Itwasthenthedeceptionhadbegun.Hehadneverplannedit,norwelcomed itwhen, like apixie steppingout from itsdark corner, ithadentered theirpresence.Hismotherhad continued to call. “Findthe strength forme, Edwin. You’re almost grown. Find the strengthandcomerescueme.”Anditwasasmuchthewishtoappeaseherashiseagerness toredeemhimself in thewarrior’seyes thathadmadehimsay:

“It’scurious,warrior.Nowyouspeakof it, I feelalready this she-dragon’s pull.More a taste in thewind than a scent.We should gowithoutdelay,forwhoknowshowlongI’llfeelit.”

Evenashesaidthis,thesceneswererapidlyfillinghismind:howhewouldentertheircamp,startlingthemastheysatsilentlyintheirsemi-circletowatchhismothertryingtofreeherself.Theywouldbefull-grown men by now; most likely bearded and heavy-bellied, nolonger the lithe young men who had come swaggering into theirvillagethatday.Burly,coarsemen,andastheyreachedfortheiraxes,theywould see thewarrior following behindEdwin and fearwouldentertheireyes.

Buthowcouldhedeceivethewarrior—histeacherandthemanheadmired above all others? And here was Wistan nodding withsatisfaction, saying: “I knew it as soon as I sawyou,Master Edwin.EvenasIreleasedyoufromthoseogresbytheriver.”Hewouldentertheircamp.Hewouldfreehismother.Theburlymenwouldbekilled,orperhapsbeallowedtofleeintothemountainfog.Andthenwhat?Edwin would have to explain why, even as they were hurrying tocompleteanurgenterrand,hehadchosentodeceivethewarrior.

Partlytodistracthimselffromsuchthoughts—forhenowsenseditwastoolateforaretreat—hesaid:“Warrior,there’saquestionIhaveofyou.Thoughyoumaythinkitimpertinent.”

Wistanwas receding back into the darkness, reclining oncemoreonto his bed. Now all Edwin could see of him was one bare kneemovingslowlyfromsidetoside.

“Askit,youngcomrade.”

“I’mwondering, warrior. Is there some special feud between youand Lord Brennus makes you stay and fight his soldiers when wemighthavefledthemonasteryandbehalfadayclosertoQuerig?Itmust be some mighty reason to make you put aside even yourerrand.”

The silence that followedwas so long Edwin thought thewarriorhad passed out in the stifling air. But then therewas the knee stillmoving slowly, and when the voice eventually came out of thedarkness,theslighttremorofthefeverseemedtohaveevaporated.

“I’ve no excuse, young comrade. I can only confessmy folly, andthatafter thegood father’swarningnot to forgetmyduty!Seehowweakistheresolveofyourmaster.YetI’mawarriorbeforeallelse,andit’snoeasythingtofleeabattleIknowIcanwin.You’reright,wecouldevennowbestandingattheshe-dragon’sden,callinghertocomegreetus.ButBrennusIknewittobe,evenahopehe’dcomeinperson, and it was more than I could do not to stay and welcomethem.”

“ThenI’mright,warrior.There’ssomefeudbetweenyouandLordBrennus.”

“Nofeudworththename.Wekneweachotherasboys,asyoungasyou arenow.Thiswas in a country furtherwest of here, in awell-guarded fortwhereweboys, twentyormore,were trainedmorningtillnighttobecomewarriorsintheBritons’ranks.Igrewtofeelgreataffection for my companions of those days, for they were splendidfellows and we lived like brothers. All except Brennus, that is, forbeingthe lord’sson,he loathedtomixwithus.Yetheoftentrainedwithus,andthoughhisskillswerefeeble,wheneveroneofusfacedhimwithawoodensword,oratwrestling inthesandpit,wehadtolet him win. Anything short of glorious victory for the lord’s sonwould result in punishments for us all. Can you imagine it, youngcomrade? To be proud young boys, as we were, and have such aninferioropponentappeartoconquerusdayafterday?Worse,Brennusdelighted in heaping humiliations on his opponents even as we

feigneddefeat.Itpleasedhimtostandonournecks,ortokickusaswelayforhimontheground.Imaginehowthisfelttous,comrade!”

“Iseeitwell,warrior.”

“ButtodayI’vereasontobegratefultoLordBrennus,forhesavedmefromapitiablefate.I’vetoldyoualready,MasterEdwin,I’dbeguntolovemycompanionsinthatfortasmyownbrothers,eventhoughtheywereBritonsandIaSaxon.”

“But is that so shameful, warrior, if you were brought up besidethemfacingharshtaskstogether?”

“Ofcourseit’sshameful,boy.IfeelshameevennowrememberingtheaffectionIhadforthem.ButitwasBrennusshowedmemyerror.Perhapsbecauseeventhenmyskillsstoodout,hedelightedtochooseme as his sparring opponent, and reserved his greatest humiliationsforme.AndhewasnotslowtonoticeIwasaSaxonboy,andbeforelong,turnedeachofmycompanionsagainstmeonthataccount.Eventhose once closest tome joined againstme, spitting inmy food, orhidingmyclothesaswehurried toour trainingonaharshwinter’smorning,fearfulofourteachers’wrath.ItwasagreatlessonBrennustaughtmethen,andwhenIunderstoodhowIshamedmyself lovingBritonsasmybrothers, Imadeupmymind to leave that fort, evenwithnofriendorkinbeyondthosewalls.”

Wistanceasedspeakingforamomentwhilehisbreathcameheavilyfrombeyondthefire.

“SodidyoutakeyourrevengeonLordBrennus,warrior,beforeyouleftthatplace?”

“Judge forme if I did or not, comrade, for I’mundecided on thequestion. The custom in that fort was for us apprentices, after ourday’s training, to be allowed an hour after supper to idle awaytogether.We’dbuilda fire in theyardandsitaround it talkingandjestingthewayboyswill.Brennusnever joinedus,ofcourse, forhehadhisprivilegedquarters,butonthatevening,forwhateverreason,I saw him walk past. I moved away from the rest then, mycompanions suspecting nothing. Now that fort, like any other, hadmanyhiddenpassages,allofwhichIknewwell,sothatbeforelongIwas in an unwatched corner where the battlements cast blackshadowsovertheground.Brennuscamestrollingmyway,alone,andwhen I moved from the gloom he stopped and looked at me with

terror. For he saw at once this could be no chance encounter, andfurther,thathisusualpowersweresuspended.Itwascurious,MasterEdwin,toseethisswaggeringlordturnedsoswiftlytoaninfantreadytomakewaterbeforemeforfear.Iwassorelytemptedtosaytohim,‘Good sir, I see your sword on your hip. Knowing howmuchmoreskilfullyyouwieldit,you’llhavenofeardrawingitagainstmine.’YetIsaidnosuchthing,forhadIhurthiminthatdarkcorner,whatofmydreamsofalifebeyondthosewalls?Isaidnothing,butremainedbeforehiminsilence,lettingthemomentgrowlongbetweenus,forIwishedittobeoneneverforgotten.Andthoughhecoweredbackandwouldhavecriedforhelphadnotsomeremnantofpridetoldhimtodosowouldensurehisabidinghumiliation,weneitherofusspoketothe other. Then in time I left him, and so you see, Master Edwin,nothingandyeteverythinghadpassedbetweenus.IknewthenI’ddowelltoleavethatverynight,andsincethesewerenolongertimesofwar,thewatchwasn’tstrict.Islippedquietlypasttheguards,sayingno farewells, and was soon a boy under the moonlight, my dearcompanionsleftbehind,myownkinlongslaughtered,nothingbutmycourageandlatelylearnedskillstocarryonmyjourney.”

“Warrior, does Brennus hunt you even today fearing yourvengeancefromthosedays?”

“Whoknowswhatdemonswhisperinthatfool’sear?Agreat lordnow,inthiscountryandthenext,yethelivesindreadofanySaxontravellerfromtheeastpassingthroughhislands.Hashefedthefearof that night again and again that it now sits in his belly a giantworm? Or is it the she-dragon’s breathmakes him forget whatevercause he once had to fear me, yet the dread grows all the moremonstrous forbeingunnamed?Only last year a Saxonwarrior fromthefens,oneIknewwell,waskilledashetravelledinpeacethroughthis very country. Yet I remain indebted to Lord Brennus for thelesson he taught me, for without it I might even now be countingBritonsasmybrotherwarriors.What troublesyou,youngcomrade?Youshiftfromfoottofootasifmyfeverpossessesyoualso.”

Sohehadfailedtohidehisrestlessness,butsurelyWistancouldnotsuspecthisdeception.Was itpossiblethewarriortoocouldhearhismother’s voice? She had been calling all thewhile thewarrior hadbeenspeaking.“Willyounotfindthestrengthforme,Edwin?Areyoutoo young after all?Will you not come tome, Edwin?Did you not

promisemethatdayyouwould?”

“I’m sorry,warrior. It’smy hunter’s instinctmakesme impatient,for I fear to lose the scent, and the morning sun already risingoutside.”

“We’llbegoneassoonasI’mabletoclimbontothatmare’sback.Butleavemealittlelonger,comrade,forhowelsecanwefacesuchanopponentasthisdragonwhenI’mtoofeveredtoliftasword?’

ChapterEleven

He longed for a patch of sun to warm Beatrice. But though theopposite bank was often bathed in morning light, their side of theriverremainedshadedandcold.Axlcouldfeelherleaningonhimasthey walked, and her shivering had grown steadily worse. He hadbeenabouttosuggestanotherrestwhenatlasttheyspottedtheroofbehindthewillows,juttingoutintothewater.

It took some time to negotiate the muddy slope down to theboathouse, and when they stepped under its low arch, the near-darknessandtheproximityofthelappingwaterseemedonlytomakeBeatriceshivermore.Theymovedfurtherinside,overdampwoodenboards,andsawbeyondtheroof’soverhangtallgrass,rushes,andanexpanse of the river. Then aman’s figure rose from the shadows totheirleft,saying:“Whomightyoube,friends?”

“God bewith you, sir,” Axl said. “We’re sorry ifwe brought youfrom your sleep. We’re just two weary travellers wishing to godownrivertoourson’svillage.”

A broad, bearded man of middle years, clad in layers of animalskins, emerged into the light and scrutinised them. Eventually heasked,notunkindly:

“Istheladythereunwell?”

“She’s only tired, sir, but unable towalk the remainingway.Wehopedyoumightspareabargeorsmallboattocarryus.Wedependon your kindness, for some misfortune lately took the bundles wecarried,andwiththemthetintorecompenseyou.Icansee,sir,youhavebutoneboatnowinthewater. Icanat leastpromiseyousafepassageforanycargoyou’dentrustshouldyouallowustouseit.”

The boatkeeper looked out at the boat rocking gently under theroof,thenbackatAxl.“It’llbeawhileyet,friend,tillthisboatgoesdownstream,forI’mwaitingformycompaniontoreturnwithbarleyto fill it. But I see you’re both weary and lately suffered somemisfortune.So letmemakethissuggestion.Lookthere, friends.Youseethosebaskets.”

“Baskets,sir?”

“Theymay look flimsy, but floatwell andwill bear yourweight,though you’ll have to go one in each. We’re accustomed to fillingthemwithfullsacksofcorn,orevenattimesaslaughteredpig,andtethered behind a boat they’ll travel even a rough river withoutjeopardy.And today, as you see, thewater’s steady, so you’ll travelwithoutworry.”

“You’rekind,sir.Buthaveyounobasketlargeenoughforthetwoofus?”

“Youmustgoonetoeachbasket,friends,orelsefeardrowning.ButI’ll gladly tether two together so you’ll go almost as good as one.When you see the lower boathouse on this same side, your journeywillbeover,andI’llaskyoutoleavethebasketstherewelltied.”

“Axl,”Beatricewhispered, “let’snot separate.Let’sgo togetheronfoot,slowthoughitmaybe.”

“Walking’s beyond us now, princess. We both need warmth andfood,andthisriverwillcarryusswiftlytoourson’swelcome.”

“Please,Axl.Idon’twantustoseparate.”

“But this goodman says he’ll truss our twobaskets together, andit’llbeasgoodaswe’rearminarm.”Thenturningtotheboatkeeper,he said: “I’mgrateful toyou, sir.We’lldoasyousuggest.Please tiethe baskets tightly, so there’s no chance a swift tide will move usapart.”

“Thedangerisn’ttheriver’sspeed,friend,butitsslowness.It’seasytogetcaughtintheweedsnearthebankandmovenofurther.YetI’lllendyouastrongstafftopushwith,soyou’llhavelittletofear.”

Astheboatkeeperwenttotheedgeofhis jettyandbegantobusyhimselfwithrope,Beatricewhispered:

“Axl,pleaselet’snotbeparted.”

“We’renottobeparted,princess.Lookhowhemakeshisknotstokeepustogether.”

“Thetidemaypartus,Axl,nevermindwhatthismantellsus.”

“We’llbefine,princess,andsoonatourson’svillage.”

Then theboatkeeperwas calling them,and they steppedcarefully

downthelittlestonestowherehewassteadyingwithalongpoletwobasketsbobbinginthewater.“They’rewelllinedwithhide,”hesaid.“You’llhardlyfeeltheriver’scold.”

Though he found it painful to crouch, Axl kept both hands onBeatrice until she had safely lowered herself into the first basket.“Don’ttryandrise,princess,oryou’llendangerthevessel.”

“Won’tyougetinyourself,Axl?”

“I’mgettinginrightbesideyou.Look,thisgoodman’sfastenedustighttogether.”

“Don’tleavemeherealone,Axl.”

Butevenasshesaidthis,sheappearedreassured,andlaydowninthebasketlikeachildgoingtosleep.

“Goodsir,”Axlsaid.“Seehowmywife trembles fromthecold. Istheresomethingyoumightlendtocoverher?”

TheboatkeepertoowaslookingatBeatrice,whohadnowcurleduponhersideandclosedhereyes.Suddenlyheremovedoneofthefurshe was wearing, and bending forward, laid it on top of her. Sheseemednot tonotice—hereyes remainedclosed—so itwasAxlwhothankedhim.

“Welcome,friend.Leaveeverythingatthelowerboathouseforme.”Themanpushedthemintothetidewithhispole.“Sit lowandkeepthestaffhandyfortheweeds.”

Itwasbitinglycoldontheriver.Brokenicedriftedhereandtherein sheets, but their baskets moved past them with ease, sometimesbumping gently one against the other. The baskets were shapedalmostlikeboats,withabowandstern,buthadatendencytorotate,so that at times Axl found himself gazing back up the river to theboathousestillvisibleonthebank.

Thedawnwaspouringthroughthewavinggrassbesidethem,andas the boatkeeper had promised, the river moved at an easy pace.Even so, Axl found himself glancing continuously over at Beatrice’sbasket,whichappearedtobefilledentirelybytheanimalskin,withonlyasmallportionofherhairvisibletobetrayherpresence.Oncehecalledout: “We’llbe there inno time,princess,”andwhen therewasnoresponse,reachedovertotugherbasketcloser.

“Princess,areyousleeping?”

“Axl,areyoustillthere?”

“OfcourseI’mstillhere.”

“Axl.Ithoughtmaybeyou’dleftmeagain.”

“WhywouldIleaveyou,princess?Andtheman’stiedourvesselssocarefullytogether.”

“Idon’tknowifit’sathingdreamtorremembered.ButIsawmyselfjust then, standing inourchamber in thedeadofnight. Itwas longagoandIhadtightaroundmethatcloakofbadgerhidesyoumadeonceasatendergifttome.Iwasstandinglikethat,andinourformerchambertoo,nottheonewehavenow,forthewallhadbranchesofbeechcrossinglefttoright,andIwaswatchingacaterpillarcrawlingslowly along it, and askingwhy a caterpillarwouldn’t be asleep solateatnight.”

“Nevermindcaterpillars,whatwereyoudoingyourselfawakeandstaringatawallinthepitofthenight?”

“I think Iwas standing thatwaybecauseyou’dgoneand leftme,Axl.Maybe this fur theman’s put overme remindsme of that onethen,forIwasholdingittomyselfwhileIstoodthere,theoneyou’dmadeformefrombadgerskins,whichlaterwelostinthatfire.Iwaswatching the caterpillar and asking why it didn’t sleep and if acreaturelikethatevenknewnightfromday.YetIbelievethereasonwasthatyou’dgoneaway,Axl.”

“Awilddream,princess,andmaybea fevercomingtoo.Butwe’llbebesideawarmfirebeforelong.”

“Areyoustillthere,Axl?”

“OfcourseI’mhere,andtheboathouselongoutofsightnow.”

“You’dleftmethatnight,Axl.Andourprecioussontoo.He’dleftaday or two before, saying he’d no wish to be at home when youreturned.Soitwasjustmealone,inourformerchamber,thedeadofnight.Butwehadacandleinthosedays,andIwasabletoseethatcaterpillar.”

“That’sastrangedreamyouspeakof,princess,nodoubtbroughtonby your fever and this cold. I wish the sun would rise with lesspatience.”

“You’reright,Axl.It’scoldhere,evenunderthisrug.”

“I’dwarmyouinmyarmsbuttheriverwon’tallowit.”

“Axl.Canitbeourownsonleftusinangeronedayandweclosedourdoortohim,tellinghimnevertoreturn?”

“Princess, I see something before us in the water, maybe a boatstuckinthereeds.”

“You’redriftingfurtheraway,Axl.Icanhardlyhearyou.”

“I’mherebesideyou,princess.”

Hehadbeen sitting low inhisbasket,his legs spreadbeforehim,butnowshiftedcarefullyintoacrouchingposture,holdingtherimtoeitherside.

“Iseeitbetternow.Asmallrowingboat,stuckinthereedswherethebankturnsahead.It’s inourpathandwe’llhavetotakecareorwe’llbestuckthesameway.”

“Axl,don’tgoawayfromme.”

“I’mherebesideyou,princess.Butletmetakethisstaffandkeepusclearoftherushes.”

The basketsweremoving evermore slowly now, pulling inwardstowardsthesludge-likewaterwherethebankmadeitsturn.Thrustingthestaff intothewater,Axlfoundhecouldtouchthebottomeasily,butwhenhetriedtopushoffbackintothetide,theriverfloorsuckedat the stick, allowing him no purchase. He could see too, in themorning light breakingover the long-grassed fields, howweedshadwoventhicklyaroundbothbaskets,asthoughtobindthemfurthertothis stagnant spot. The boat was almost before them, and as theydriftedlethargicallytowardsit,Axlheldoutthestafftotouchagainstitssternandbroughtthemtoahalt.

“Isittheotherboathouse,husband?”

“Not yet.” Axl glanced over to that part of the river still glidingdownstream. “I’m sorry, princess. We’re caught in the reeds. Buthere’sarowingboatbeforeus,andifit’sworthy,we’lluseitourselvestocompletethejourney.”Pushingthestaffoncemoreintothewater,Axlmanoeuvredthemslowlytoapositionalongsidethevessel.

Fromtheirlowvantagepoint,theboatloomedlarge,andAxlcould

seeinfinedetailthedamaged,coarsenedwood,andtheundersideofthe gunwale, where a row of tiny icicles hung like candlewax.Plantingthestaffinthewater,henowrosecarefullytohisfullheightwithinhisbasketandpeeredintotheboat.

The bow end was bathed in an orange light and it took him amomenttoseethatthepileofragsheapedthereontheboardswasinfact an elderly woman. The unusual nature of her garment—apatchwork of numerous small dark rags—and the sooty grimesmearedoverherfacehadmomentarilydeceivedhim.Moreover,shewasseatedinapeculiarposture,herheadtiltedheavilytooneside,so that itwasalmost touching theboat’s floor.Somethingabout theoldwoman’sclothestuggedathismemory,butnowsheopenedhereyesandstaredathim.

“Helpme,stranger,”shesaidquietly,notalteringherposture.

“Areyousick,mistress?”

“Myarmwon’t obeyme, or I’d bynowbeup and taken theoar.Helpme,stranger.”

“Who do you speak to, Axl?” Beatrice’s voice came from behindhim.“Takecareit’snotsomedemon.”

“It’sjustapoorwomanofouryearsormore,injuredinherboat.”

“Don’tforgetme,Axl.”

“Forgetyou?WhywouldIeverforgetyou,princess?”

“Thismist makes us forget somuch.Why should it notmake usforgeteachother?”

“Such a thing can’t ever happen, princess. Now I must help thispoorwoman, and perhapswith luckwe’ll all three use her boat tojourneydownstream.”

“Stranger,Ihearwhatyousay.You’llbemostwelcometosharemyboat.ButhelpmenowforI’mfallenandhurt.”

“Axl,don’tleavemehere.Don’tforgetme.”

“I’mjuststeppingontothisboatbesideus,princess. Imustattendtothispoorstranger.”

Thecoldhadstiffenedhislimbs,andhealmostlosthisbalanceasheclimbedintothelargervessel.Buthesteadiedhimself,thenlooked

aroundhim.

The boat seemed simple and sturdy, with no obvious signs ofleakage.Therewascargopilednearthestern,butAxlpaidthislittleattention, for thewomanwas saying something again. Themorningsunwasstillfullyuponher,andhecouldseehowhergazewasfixedwith some intensity onhis feet—somuch so that he couldnot helplooking down at them himself. Noticing nothing remarkable, hecontinuedtowardsher,steppingcarefullyovertheboat’sbracing.

“Stranger. I see you’re not young, but you’ve strength left. Showthemafierceface.Afiercefacetomakethemflee.”

“Come,mistress.Are youable to sit up?”Hehad said this forhewastroubledbyherstrangeposture—herloosegreyhairwashangingdownand touching thedampboards.“Here, I’llhelpyou.Try to sithigher.”

Ashe leant forwardandtouchedher,a rustedknifeshehadbeenholdingfellfromhergraspontotheboards.Inthesameinstant,somesmall creature scampered out from her rags and away into theshadows.

“Dotheratsbotheryou,mistress?”

“They’reoverthere,stranger.Showthemafierceface,Isay.”

It now occurred to him she had not been staring at his feet, butbeyondhim,tosomethingatthebackoftheboat.Heturned,butthelowsundazzledhimandhecouldnotdiscernclearlywhateverwasmovingthere.

“Aretheyrats,mistress?”

“Theyfearyou,stranger.Theyfearedmetooforalittlewhile,buttheysappedmelittlebylittleastheywill.Hadyounotcomethey’dbecoveringmeevennow.”

“Waitamoment,mistress.”

He stepped towards the stern, a hand raised against the low sun,andgazeddownat theobjectspiled intheshadows.Hecouldmakeout tangled nets, a soaked-through blanket left in a heap, a long-handled tool, like a hoe, lying across it. And there was a wooden,lidlessbox—thesortfishermenusedtokeepfreshthedyingfishtheyhadcaught.Butwhenhepeeredintoit,hesawnotfishbutskinned

rabbits—a considerable number of them, pressed so closely oneagainst the other their tiny limbs appeared to be locked together.Then, as hewatched, thewholemass of sinews, elbows and anklesbegantoshift.Axltookastepbackevenashesawaneyeopen,andthenanother.Asoundmadehimturn,andhesawattheotherendoftheboat,stillbathedinorangelight,theoldwomanslumpedagainstthebowwithpixies—toomanytocount—swarmingoverher.Atfirstglanceshelookedcontented,asifbeingsmotheredinaffection,whilethesmall, scrawnycreatures ran throughher ragsandoverher faceandshoulders.Andnowtherecamemoreandmoreoutoftheriver,climbingovertherimoftheboat.

Axlreacheddownforthelong-handledtoolbeforehim,buthetoohad become enveloped by a sense of tranquillity, and he foundhimself extracting the pole from the tangled netting in a strangelyleisurelymanner.Heknewmoreandmorecreatureswererisingfromthewater—howmanymighthaveboardednow?Thirty?Sixty?—andtheir collective voices seemed to him to resemble the sound ofchildrenplayinginthedistance.Hehadthepresenceofmindtoraisethe long tool—ahoe, surely, forwas thatnot a rustedbladeon theend rising into the sky, or yet another creature clinging to it?—andbringitcrashingdownontothetinyknucklesandkneesmountingthesideoftheboat.Thenasecondswing,thistimetowardstheboxwiththe skinned rabbits from which more pixies were running out. Butthen he had never been much of a swordsman, his skill being fordiplomacyand,whenrequired, intrigue, thoughwhocouldclaimhehadeverbetrayedthetrusthisskillshadwon?Onthecontrary,itwashewhohadbeenbetrayed,buthecouldstillwieldaweaponinsomefashion,andnowhewouldbringitdownthiswayandthat,forhadhe not to defend Beatrice from these swarming creatures? But heretheycame,moreandmore—weretheystillcomingfromthatbox,orfrom the shallow waters? Were they even now gathering aroundBeatriceasleepinherbasket?Thelastblowofthehoehadhadsomeeffect, for severalcreatureshad fallenback into thewater,and thenanotherblowhadsenttwo,eventhree,flyingthroughtheair,andtheoldwomanwasastranger,whatobligationdidhehavetoherbeforehisownwife?But there shewas, the strangewoman,hardlyvisiblenowbeneaththewrithingcreatures,andAxlcrossedthelengthoftheboat,hoeraised,andmadeanotherarcintheairtosweepoffasmanyaspossiblewithoutinjurytothestranger.Yethowtheyclungon!And

now they even dared to speak to him—orwas that the oldwomanherselffrombeneaththem?

“Leaveher,stranger.Leavehertous.Leaveher,stranger.”

Axlswungthehoeagain,anditmovedasthoughtheairwerethickwater,but found itsmark, scattering several creaturesevenasmorearrived.

“Leavehertous,stranger,”theoldwomansaidagain,andonlythistimediditoccurtohim,withastaboffearthatseemedbottomless,thatthespeakerwastalkingnotofthedyingstrangerbeforehimbutofBeatrice.Andturningtohiswife’sbasketinthereeds,hesawthewatersarounditalivewithlimbsandshoulders.Hisownbasketwasnearly capsizing from the pull of the creatures trying to climb in,preservedonlyby theballast of thosealready inside.But theywereboardinghisbasketonlytogainaccesstoitsneighbour.Hecouldseeother creaturesmassingover the animal skin coveringBeatrice, andutteringacry,heclimbedthesideoftheboatandlethimselffallintothewater. Itwasdeeper thanhehadanticipated, comingabovehiswaist,buttheshockofittookhisbreathonlyforaninstant,beforehelet out a warrior’s bellow that came to him as if from a distantmemory,andhelurchedtowardsthebaskets,thehoeheldhighabovehim.Therewastuggingathisclothes,andthewaterfelthoney-like,butwhenhebroughtthehoedownontohisownbasket,eventhoughhisweapontravelledwithfrustratingslownessthroughtheair,onceitlandedmorecreaturesthanhecouldhavesuspectedtumbledoutintothewater.Thenextswingcausedevengreaterdestruction—hemustthis time have swung with the blade outwards, for was that notbloodied flesh he saw flying up into the sunlight? And yet Beatriceremained an age away, floating complacently even as the creaturesrose about her, and now they came from the land too, pouringthroughthegrassontheriverbank.Creatureswerenowevenhangingfromhishoeandheletitfallintothewater,suddenlywishingonlytobeatBeatrice’sside.

He waded through the weeds, the broken bulrushes, the mudtugging at his feet, but Beatrice remained further away than ever.Thencamethestranger’svoiceagain,andeventhoughnow,downinthe water, he could no longer see her, Axl could picture the oldwomanwithstartlingclarityinhismind’seye,slumpedonthefloorofherboatinthemorningsun,thepixiesmovingfreelyoverherasshe

utteredthewordshecouldhear:

“Leaveher,stranger.Leavehertous.”

“Curseyou,”Axlmutteredunderhisbreath,ashepushedhimselfforward.“I’llnever,nevergiveherup.”

“A wise man like you, stranger. You’ve known a long time nowthere’s no cure to saveher.Howwill youbear it,what now lies inwait forher?Doyou long for thatdayyouwatchyourdearest lovetwistinagonyandwithnothingtoofferbutkindwordsforherear?Givehertousandwe’lleasehersuffering,aswe’vedoneforalltheseothersbeforeher.”

“Curseyou!I’llnotgivehertoyou!”

“Givehertousandwe’llseeshesuffersnopain.We’llwashherinthe river’swaters, the yearswill fall fromher, and she’ll be as in apleasant dream.Why keep her, sir?What can you give her but theagonyofananimalinslaughter?”

“I’llberidofyou.Getoff.Getoffher.”

Lockinghishandstogethertomakeaclub,heswungonewaythentheother,clearingapathinthewaterashewadedon,tillatlasthewas before Beatrice, still fast asleep in her basket. The pixies wereswarmingovertheanimalskinthatcoveredher,andhebegantopullthemoffonebyone,hurlingthemaway.

“Whywill you not give her to us? This is no kindness you showher.”

Hepushed thebasket through thewateruntil theground roseupandthebasketwassittingonwetmudamidstgrassandbulrushes.Heleantforwardthenandgatheredhiswifeinhisarms,liftingherout.Thankfullyshecamebacktowakefulnessenoughtoclingtohisneck,and they made faltering steps together, first onto the bank, thenfurther,intothefields.Onlywhenthelandfelthardanddrybeneaththem did Axl lower her, and they sat in the grass together, herecoveringhisbreath,shebecomingsteadilymoreawake.

“Axl,whatisthisplacewe’vecometo?”

“Princess, howareyou feelingnow?Wemust get away from thisspot.I’llcarryyouonmyback.”

“Axl,you’resoakedthrough!Didyoufallintheriver?”

“Thisisanevilspot,princess,andwemustleavequickly.I’llgladlycarryyouonmyback,thewayIusedtodowhenwewereyoungandfoolishandenjoyingawarmspring’sday.”

“Mustweleavetheriverbehindus?SirGawain’srightsurelythatitwillcarryusallthemoreswiftlywherewe’llgo.Thelandherelooksashighinthemountainsasweeverwerebefore.”

“We’veno choice,princess.Wemustget far fromhere.Come, I’llhaveyouonmyback.Come,princess,reachformyshoulders.”

ChapterTwelve

He could hear the warrior’s voice below him, appealing to him toclimbmoreslowly,butEdwinignoredit.Wistanwastooslow,andingeneral appeared not to appreciate the urgency of their situation.When theywere still not halfwayup the cliff, he had askedEdwin:“Canthatbeahawkjustflewpastus,youngcomrade?”Whatdiditmatterwhatitwas?Hisfeverhadmadethewarriorsoft,bothinmindandbody.

Only a little further to climb, then he at leastwould be over theedgeandstandingonfirmground.Hecouldthenrun—howhelongedtorun!—buttowhere?Theirdestinationhad,forthemoment,driftedbeyond his recall. What was more, there had been somethingimportant to tell the warrior: he had been deceiving Wistan aboutsomething, and now it was almost time to confess.When they hadstartedtheirclimb,leavingtheexhaustedmaretiedtoashrubbesidethemountainpath,hehadresolvedtomakeacleanbreastofitoncethey reached the top. Yet now he was almost there, his mind heldnothingbutconfusedwisps.

He clambered over the last rocks and pulled himself up over theprecipice. The land before him was bare and wind-scarred, risinggraduallytowardsthepalepeaksonthehorizon.Nearbywerepatchesofheatherandmountaingrass,butnothingtallerthanaman’sankle.Yet strangely, there in themid-distance,waswhatappeared tobeawood, its lush trees standing calmly against the battlingwind. Hadsomegod,onawhim,pickedupinhisfingersasectionofrichforestandsetitdowninthisinhospitableterrain?

Though out of breath from the climb, Edwin pushed himselfforwardintoarun.Forthosetrees,surely,werewherehehadtobe,and once there he would remember everything.Wistan’s voice wasshoutingagainsomewherebehindhim—thewarriormustfinallyhavearrivedat the top—butEdwin,notglancingback, ranall the faster.Hewould leavehisconfessionuntil thosetrees.Withintheirshelter,he would be able to remember more clearly, and they could talkwithoutthewind’showl.

Thegroundcameuptomeethimandknockedthebreathfromhim.It happened so unexpectedly hewas obliged to lie there amoment,quitedazed,andwhenhe tried to springback tohis feet somethingsoftbutforcefulkepthimdown.HerealisedthenthatWistan’skneewasonhisback,andthathishandswerebeingtiedbehindhim.

“Youaskedbeforewhywemustcarryropewithus,”Wistansaid.“Nowyouseehowusefulitcanbe.”

Edwinbegantoremembertheirexchangedownonthepathbelow.Eagertostarttheclimb,hehadbeenannoyedbythewaythewarriorwas carefully transferring items from his saddle into two sacks forthemtocarry.

“Wemusthurry,warrior!Whydoweneedallthesethings?”

“Here,carrythis,comrade.Theshe-dragon’sfoeenoughwithoutusgrowingweakwithcoldandhungertoaidher.”

“Butthescentwillbelost!Andwhatneeddowehaveofrope?”

“Wemayneedityet,youngcomrade,andwewon’tfinditgrowingonbranchesupthere.”

Now the rope had been wound around his waist as well as hiswrists,sothatwhenfinallyherosetohisfeet,hecouldmoveforwardonlyagainstthepullofhisleash.

“Warrior,areyounolongermyfriendandteacher?”

“I’mstillthatandyourprotectortoo.Fromhereyoumustgowithlesshaste.”

Hefoundhedidnotmindtherope.Thegaititobligedhimtoadoptwaslikethatofamule,andhewasremindedofatimenotlongagowhenhehadhadto impersonate justsuchabeast,goingroundandroundawagon.Washe the samemulenow, stubbornlypushinghiswayuptheslopeevenastheropepulledhimback?

Hepulledandpulled,occasionallymanagingseveralstepsatarunbefore the rope jerked him to a halt. A voice was in his ears—afamiliarvoice—half-singing,half-chantingachildren’srhyme,oneheknew well from when he was younger. It was comforting anddisturbing inequalmeasureandhe found ifhechantedalongwhiletuggingontherope,thevoicelostsomethingofitsunsettlingedge.Sohechanted,atfirstunderhisbreath,thenwithlessinhibitionintothe

wind: “Who knocked over the cup of ale?Who cut off the dragon’stail?Who left the snake inside the pail? ’Twas your Cousin Adny.”Therewerefurtherlineshedidnotremember,buthewassurprisedtofind that he had but to chant along with the voice and the wordswouldcomeoutcorrectly.

The treeswerenearnowand thewarrior tuggedhimback again.“Slowly, young comrade.We needmore than courage to enter thisstrangegrove.Lookthere.Pinetreesatthisheight’snomystery,butaren’tthoseoaksandelmsbesidethem?”

“Nomatterwhat treesgrowhere,warrior,orwhatbirds fly theseskies!Wehavelittletimeleftandmusthurry!”

They entered the wood and the ground changed beneath them:therewassoftmoss,nettles,evenferns.Theleavesabovethemweredenseenoughtoformaceiling,sothatforawhiletheywanderedinagreyhalf-light.Yetthiswasnoforest,forsoontheycouldseebeforethemaclearingwithitscircleofopenskyaboveit.ThethoughtcametoEdwinthatifthiswasindeedtheworkofagod,theintentionmusthavebeentoconcealwiththesetreeswhateverlayahead.Hepulledangrilyattherope,saying:

“Whydally,warrior?Canitbeyou’reafraid?”

“Look at this place, young comrade. Your hunter’s instincts haveserveduswell.Thismustbethedragon’slairbeforeusnow.”

“I’mthehunterofustwo,warrior,andItellyouthatclearingholdsno dragon.Wemust hurry past it and beyond, forwe’ve further togo!”

“Yourwound,youngcomrade.Letmeseeifitremainsclean.”

“Nevermindmywound!Itellyouthescentwillbelost!Letgotherope,warrior.I’llrunonevenifyouwillnot!”

ThistimeWistanreleasedhim,andEdwinpushedpastthistlesandtangledroots.Severaltimeshelosthisbalance,fortrussedashewashe had no hand to put out to steady himself. But he reached theclearingwithout injury, and stoppedat its edge to take in the sightbeforehim.

At thecentreof theclearingwasapond. Itwas frozenover, soaman—werehebraveorfoolishenough—mightcrossitintwentyorso

strides.Thesmoothnessoftheice’ssurfacewasinterruptedonlynearthe far side, where the hollowed-out trunk of a dead tree burst upthroughit.Alongthebank,notfarfromtheruinedtree,alargeogrewascrouchingdownonitskneesandelbowsatthewater’sveryedge,its head completely submerged. Perhaps the creature had beendrinking—or searching for something beneath the surface—and hadbeenovertakenbythesuddenfreeze.Toacarelessobserver,theogremight have been a headless corpse, decapitated as it crawled toquenchitsthirst.

Thepatchofskyabovethepondcastastrangelightdownontheogre,andEdwinstaredatitforawhile,almostexpectingittoreturntolife,bringingupaghastlyandflushedface.Then,withastart,herealisedtherewasasecondcreatureinanidenticalpostureonthefarright-handedgeof thepond.And there!—yeta third,not farbeforehim,onthenearbank,half-concealedbytheferns.

Ogres usually aroused only revulsion in him, but these creatures,andtheeeriemelancholyoftheirpostures,madeEdwinfeelatugofpity. What had brought them to such a fate? He began to movetoward them,but the ropewas tautagain,andheheardWistan sayclosebehindhim:

“Doyoustilldenythisisadragon’slair,comrade?”

“Nothere,warrior.Wemustgofurther.”

“Yetthisspotwhisperstome.Evenifnotherlair,isn’tthisaplaceshecomestodrinkandbathe?”

“Isayit’scursed,warrior,andnoplacetodobattlewithher.We’llhaveonlyillluckhere.Lookatthosepoorogres.Andtheyalmostaslargeasthefiendsyoukilledtheothernight.”

“Whatdoyouspeakof,boy?”

“Don’tyouseethem?Look,there!Andthere!”

“Master Edwin, you’ve become exhausted, as I feared. Let’s rest awhile.Evenifthisisagloomyspot,itgivesusrespitefromthewind.”

“Howcanyoutalkofrest,warrior?Andisn’tthathowthosepoorcreaturesmet their fate, loitering in this bewitched place too long?Heedtheirwarning,warrior!”

“TheonlywarningIheedtellsmetomakeyourestbeforeyoudrive

yourownhearttoburst.”

He felt himself tugged, and his back struck against the bark of atree.Thenthewarriorwastrudgingaroundhim,circlingropeabouthischestandshoulderstillhecouldhardlymove.

“Thisgoodtreemeansyounoharm,youngcomrade.”Thewarriorplacedagentlehandonhisshoulder.“Whywastestrengththiswaytouproot it? Calm yourself and rest, I say,while I studymore closelythisplace.”

HewatchedWistanpickinghiswaythroughthenettlesdowntothepond.Reachingthewater’sedge, thewarriorspentseveralmomentswalking slowly back and forth, staring closely at the ground,sometimescrouchingdowntoexaminewhatevercaughthiseye.Thenhe straightened, and for a long time seemed to fall into a reverie,gazingoverat the treeson the far sideof thepond.ForEdwin, thewarriorwasnowanear-silhouetteagainstthefrozenwater.Whydidhenotevenglancetowardstheogres?

Wistanmadeamovementandsuddenlytheswordwasinhishand,the arm poised and unmoving in the air. Then the weapon wasreturned to its scabbard and the warrior, turning from the water,camewalkingbacktowardshim.

“We’rehardlythefirstvisitorshere,”hesaid.“Eventhispasthour,someparty’scomethisway,andit’snoshe-dragon.MasterEdwin,I’mgladtoseeyoucalmer.”

“Warrior, I’vea confession tomake.One thatmaymakeyou slaymeevenasIstandtrussedtothistree.”

“Speak,boy,anddon’tfearme.”

“Warrior, you claimed for me the hunter’s gift, and even as youspokeofitIfeltastrongpull,soletyoubelieveIhadQueriginmynostrils.ButIwasalwaysdeceivingyou.”

Wistancameclosertillhewasstandingrightbeforehim.

“Goon,comrade.”

“Ican’tgoon,warrior.”

“You’vemoretofearfromyoursilencethanmyanger.Speak.”

“Ican’t,warrior.Whenwebegantoclimb,Iknewjustwhattotell

you.Yetnow…I’muncertainwhatitisI’vekepthiddenfromyou.”

“It’stheshe-dragon’sbreath,nothingmore.It’shadlittleswayoveryoubefore,butnowoverpowersyou.Asuresignwe’reclosetoher.”

“I fear it’s this cursed pool bewitches me, warrior, and maybebewitchesyoutoo,makingyoucontenttodallythiswayandhardlyglancing at those drowned ogres. Yet I know there’s a confession IhavetomakeandonlywishIcouldfindit.”

“Showmethewaytotheshe-dragon’slairandI’llforgivewhateversmallliesyou’vetoldme.”

“But that’s just it,warrior.We rode themare tillherheartnearlyburst, thenclimbedthissteepmountainside,yet I’mnot leadingyouatalltotheshe-dragon.”

WistanhadcomesocloseEdwincouldfeelthewarrior’sbreath.

“Wherecoulditbethen,MasterEdwin,youleadme?”

“It’s my mother, warrior, I remember it now. My aunt’s not mymother.Myrealmotherwastaken,andeventhoughIwasasmallboythen,Iwaswatching.AndIpromisedherI’donedaybringherback.Now I’m nearly grown, and have you beside me, even those menwouldtrembletofaceus.Ideceivedyou,warrior,butunderstandmyfeelingsandhelpmenowwe’resonearher.”

“Yourmother.Yousayshe’snearusnow?”

“Yes,warrior.Butnothere.Notthiscursedplace.”

“Whatdoyourememberofthemenwhotookher?”

“Theylookedfierce,warrior,andwellusedtokilling.Notamaninthevillagedaredcomeouttofacethemthatday.”

“SaxonsorBritons?”

“TheywereBritons,warrior.Threemen,andSteffasaidtheymustnot long before have been soldiers, for he recognised their soldiers’ways.Iwasn’tyetfiveyearsold,orelseI’dhavefoughtforher.”

“Myownmotherwastaken,youngcomrade,soIunderstandyourthoughtswell.AndItoowasachildandweakwhenshewastaken.Theseweretimesofwar,andinmyfoolishness,seeinghowthemenslaughtered and hanged so many, I rejoiced to see the way theysmiledather,believing theymeant to treatherwithgentlenessand

favour.Perhapsitwasthiswayforyoutoo,MasterEdwin,whenyouwereyoungandstilltoknowofmen’sways.”

“Mymotherwastakeninpeacefultimes,warrior,sonogreatharmhasmether.She’sbeentravellingcountrytocountry,anditmaynotbesuchabadlife.Yetshelongstoreturntome,andit’strue,themenwho travel with her are sometimes cruel. Warrior, accept thisconfession,punishmelater,buthelpmenowfacehercaptors,forit’slongyearsshe’swaitedforme.”

Wistan staredathimstrangely.He seemedon thebrinkof sayingsomething, but then shook his head and walked a few steps awayfrom the tree, almost like one ashamed. Edwin had never seen thewarriorwearsuchanair,andwatchedhimwithsurprise.

“I’llreadilyforgiveyouthisdeception,MasterEdwin,”Wistansaideventually, turningback to facehim. “And anyother small lies youmayhavetold.AndsoonI’llreleaseyoufromthistreeandwe’llgotofacewhateverfoeyoumayleadusto.ButinreturnIaskyoutomakeapromise.”

“Tellme,warrior.”

“ShouldIfallandyousurvive,promisemethis.Thatyou’llcarryinyourheartahatredofBritons.”

“Whatdoyoumean,warrior?WhichBritons?”

“AllBritons,youngcomrade.Eventhosewhoshowyoukindness.”

“Idon’tunderstand,warrior.MustIhateaBritonwhoshareswithme his bread? Or saves me from a foe as lately did the good SirGawain?”

“There are Britonswho tempt our respect, even our love, I knowthisonlytoowell.Buttherearenowgreaterthingspressonusthanwhat each may feel for another. It was Britons under Arthurslaughtered our kind. It was Britons took your mother and mine.We’veadutytohateeveryman,womanandchildoftheirblood.Sopromisemethis.ShouldIfallbeforeIpasstoyoumyskills,promiseme you’ll tend well this hatred in your heart. And should it everflickerorthreatentodie,shielditwithcaretilltheflametakesholdagain.Willyoupromisemethis,MasterEdwin?”

“Verywell,warrior,Ipromiseit.ButnowIhearmymothercalling,

andsurelywe’vestayedinthisgloomyplacetoolong.”

“Let’sgotoherthen.Butbepreparedincasewecometoolateforherrescue.”

“Whatcanyoumean,warrior?Howcanthateverbe,forIhearhercallevennow.”

“Thenlet’shastentohercall.Justknowonething,youngcomrade.Whenthehour’stoolateforrescue,it’sstillearlyenoughforrevenge.Soletmehearyourpromiseagain.Promisemeyou’llhatetheBritontillthedayyoufallfromyourwoundsortheheavinessofyouryears.”

“I gladlypromise it again,warrior.But releaseme from this tree,forInowfeelclearlywhichwaywemustgo.”

ChapterThirteen

Thegoat,Axlcouldsee,waswellathomeonthismountainterrain.Itwaseatinghappilythestubblygrassandheather,notcaringaboutthewind,or that its left legswerepoisedsomuchlowerthantheright.Theanimalhadafiercetug—asAxlhaddiscoveredalltoowellduringtheir ascent—and it had not been easy to find a way of safelytetheringitwhileheandBeatricetooktheirrest.Buthehadspottedadeadtreerootprotrudingfromtheslope,andhadcarefullyboundtheropetoit.

The goat was clearly visible from where they now sat. The twolargerocks,leaningonetowardstheotherlikeanoldmarriedcouple,hadbeen visible from somewaydown, butAxl hadhoped to comeacrossashelterfromthewindlongbeforetheyreachedthem.Yetthebarehillsidehadofferednothing,and theyhadhad topersevereupthelittlepath,thegoattuggingasimpulsivelyasthefiercegusts.Butwhenatlasttheyreachedthetwinrocks,itwasasifGodhadcraftedfor them this sanctuary, for while they could still hear the blastsaroundthem,theyfeltonlyfaintstirringsintheair.Evenso,theysatcloseagainstoneanother,asifinimitationofthestonesabovethem.

“Here’sallthiscountrystillbelowus,Axl.Didn’tthatrivercarryusdownatall?”

“Wewerehaltedbeforewecouldgetfar,princess.”

“Andnowweclimbuphillagain.”

“Rightenough,princess.Ifearthatyounggirlhidfromusthetruehardshipofthistask.”

“Nodoubtaboutit,Axl,shemadeitsoundaneasystroll.Butwho’llblameher?Stillachildandmorecaresthanoneherageshouldbear.Axl,lookthere.Downinthatvalley,doyouseethem?”

Ahandraised to theglare,Axl tried todiscernwhathiswifewasindicating,buteventuallyshookhishead.“Myeyesaren’tasgoodasyours,princess.Iseevalleyaftervalleywherethemountainsdescend,butnothingremarkable.”

“There, Axl, follow my finger. Aren’t those soldiers walking in aline?”

“Iseethemnow,rightenough.Butsurelythey’renotmoving.”

“They’removing,Axl,andmightbesoldiers,thewaytheygoinalongline.”

“Tomypooreyes,princess,theyseemnottomoveatall.Andevenifthey’resoldiers,they’resurelytoofartobotherus.It’sthosestormcloudstothewestconcernmemore,forthey’llbringmischiefswifterthananysoldiersinthedistance.”

“You’reright,husband,andIwonderhowmuchfurtheritiswe’reto go. That young girl wasn’t honest, insisting it was but a simplestroll. Yet can we blame her? Her parents absent and her youngerbrotherstoworryover.Shemusthavebeendesperatetohaveusdoherbidding.”

“I can see them more clearly, princess, now the sun peeks frombehind the clouds. They’re not soldiers ormen at all, but a row ofbirds.”

“What foolishness, Axl. If they’re birds, how would we see themfromhereatall?”

“They’recloserthanyouimagine,princess.Darkbirdssatinaline,thewaytheydointhemountains.”

“Thenwhy is it one doesn’t fly into the air as wewatch them?”“Onemayflyupyet,princess.AndIforonewon’tblamethatyounglass, for isn’t she inablackplight?Andwherewouldwehavebeenwithoutherhelp,soakedandshiveringaswewerewhenwefirstsawher?Besides,princess,asIrememberit,itwasn’tthegirlalonekeentohavethisgoatgouptothegiant’scairn.Isitevenanhourgonebyyouwereasanxious?”

“I’m still as anxious for it, Axl. Forwouldn’t it be a fine thing ifQuerigwereslainandthismistnomore?It’sjustwhenIseethatgoatchewingtheearththatway,it’shardtobelieveafoolishcreaturelikethatcouldeverdoawaywithagreatshe-dragon.”

Thegoathadbeeneatingwithequalappetiteearlierthatmorningwhen theyhad first comeupon the little stone cottage. The cottagehadbeeneasytomiss,hiddenwithinapocketofshadowatthefoot

ofaloomingcliff,andevenwhenBeatricehadpointeditouttohim,Axlhadmistakenit fortheentrancetoasettlementnotunliketheirown,dugdeep into themountainside.Onlyas theyhadcomecloserhadherealised itwasan isolatedstructure, thewallsandroofalikebuilt from shards of dark grey rock. Water was falling from highaboveinafinethreadjustinfrontofthecliffside,tocollectinapoolnotfarfromthecottageandtrickleawaywherethelanddippedoutofview.Alittlewaybeforethecottage,justnowbrightlyilluminatedbythemorningsun,wasasmallfencedpaddock,thesoleoccupantofwhichwasthegoat.Asusualtheanimalhadbeeneatingbusily,butbrokeofftostareinastonishmentatAxlandBeatrice.

Thechildrenthoughhadremainedunawareoftheirapproach.Thegirl and her two younger brothers were standing at the edge of aditch, their backs to their visitors, preoccupied with somethingbeneath their feet. Once, one of the small boys crouched down tothrowsomethingintotheditch,provokingthegirltopullhimbackbythearm.

“Whatcantheybedoing,Axl?”Beatricesaid.“Mischiefbythelookofit,andtheyoungestofthemstillsmallenoughtotumbleinwithoutmeaningto.”

When they had gone past the goat and the children still wereunawareofthem,Axlcalledoutasgentlyashecould:“Godbewithyou,”causingallthreetospinroundinalarm.

TheirguiltycountenancessupportedBeatrice’snotionthattheyhadbeenuptonogood,but thegirl—aheadtaller thanthetwoboys—recoveredquicklyandsmiled.

“Elders!You’rewelcome!WeprayedtoGodonlylastnighttosendyouandhereyou’vecometous!Welcome,welcome!”

She came splashing over the marshy grass towards them, herbrothersclosebehind.

“Youmistake us, child,” Axl said. “We’re just two lost travellers,cold and weary, our clothes wet from the river where we wereattackedonlylatelybysavagepixies.Wouldyoucallyourmotherorfather toallowuswarmthand the chance todryourselvesbesideafire?”

“We’renotmistaken,sir!WeprayedtotheGodJesuslastnightand

nowyou’vecome!Please,elders,go insideourhouse,wherea fire’sstillburning.”

“Butwhereareyourparents,child?”Beatriceasked.“Wearyasweare,we’dnotintrude,andsowaitfortheladyormasterofthehousetocallusthroughthedoor.”

“It’s just us three now, mistress, so you can call me lady of thehouse!Pleasegoinsideandwarmyourselves.You’ll findfoodinthesackhangingfromthebeam,andthere’swoodbesidethefiretoadd.Goinside,elders,andwe’llnotdisturbyourrest forawhileyet, forwemustseetothegoat.”

“Weacceptyourkindnessgratefully,child,”Axlsaid.“Buttellusifthenearestvillageisfarfromhere.”

Ashadowcrossedthegirl’sface,andsheexchangedlookswithherbrothers, now lined up beside her. Then she smiled again and said:“We’reveryhighinthemountainshere,sir.It’sfartoanyvillage,sowe’d ask you to stay herewith us, and thewarm fire and foodweoffer.Youmust be veryweary, and I seehow thiswindmakes youbothshiver.Soplease,nomoretalkofgoingaway.Goinsideandrest,elders,forwe’vewaitedforyousolong!”

“What is it so interests you in that ditch there?” Beatrice askedsuddenly.

“Oh,it’snothing,mistress!Nothingatall!Buthereyou’restandinginthiswindandyourclotheswet!Won’tyouacceptourhospitality,andrestyourselvesbesideourfire?Seehowevennowitssmokerisesfromtheroof!”

“There!”Axltookhisweightfromtherockandpointed.“Abirdflownto the sky. Didn’t I tell you, princess, those are birds standing in aline?Doyouseeitclimbinginthesky?”

Beatrice,whohadrisentoherfeetafewmomentsbefore,nowtooka step beyond the sanctuary of their rocks, and Axl saw the windimmediatelypullatherclothes.

“A bird, right enough,” she said. “But it didn’t rise from thosefiguresyonder. It couldbeyoustilldon’t seewhat Ipoint to,Axl. Imeanthere,onthefurtherridge,thosedarkshapesalmostagainstthesky.”

“Iseethemwellenough,princess.Butcomebackoutofthewind.”

“Soldiersornot, theymove slowlyon.Thebirdwasneveroneofthem.”

“Come out of the wind, princess, and sit down. We must gatherstrengththebestwecan.Whoknowshowmuchfurtherwemustpullthisgoat?”

Beatrice came back to their shelter, holding close to herself thecloak borrowed from the children. “Axl,” she said, as she seatedherself again beside him, “do you really believe it? That before thegreatknightsandwarriors,it’sawearyoldcouplelikeus,forbiddenacandle in our own village,whomay slay the she-dragon?Andwiththisill-temperedgoattoaidus?”

“Whoknows it’ll be so,princess.Maybe it’s all just ayounggirl’swishingandnothingmore.Butweweregrateful forherhospitality,andsoweshouldn’tminddoingassheasks.Andwhoknowssheisn’tright,andQuerigwillbeslainthisway.”

“Axl,tellme.Iftheshe-dragon’sreallyslain,andthemiststartstoclear,Axl,doyoueverfearwhatwillthenberevealedtous?”

“Didn’tyousay ityourself,princess?Our life together’s likeatalewithahappyend,nomatterwhatturnsittookontheway.”

“Isaidsobefore,Axl.Yetnowitmayevenbewe’llslayQuerigwithourownhands,there’sapartofmefearsthemist’sfading.Canitbesowithyou,Axl?”

“Perhapsitis,princess.Perhapsit’salwaysbeenso.ButIfearmostwhatyouspokeofearlier.Imeanaswerestedbesidethefire.”

“WhatwasitIsaidthen,Axl?”

“Youdon’tremember,princess?”

“Did we have some foolish quarrel? I’ve no memory of it now,exceptthatIwasnearmywit’sendfromcoldandwantofrest.”

“Ifyou’venomemoryofit,princess,thenletitstayforgotten.”

“ButI’vefeltsomething,Axl,eversinceweleftthosechildren.It’sasifyou’reholdingyourselfawayfrommeaswewalk,andnotjuston account of that tugging goat. Can it be we quarrelled earlier,thoughI’venomemoryofit?”

“I’dno intention toholdmyself away fromyou, princess. Forgiveme.Ifit’snotthegoatpullingthiswayandthat,thenitmustbeI’mstillthinkingofsomefoolishnessthatwassaidbetweenus.Trustme,it’sbestforgotten.”

Hehadgotthefireblazingagaininthecentreofthefloor,andallelseinsidethesmallcottagehadfallenintoshadow.Axlhadbeendryinghis clothes, holding each garment up to the flames, while Beatricesleptpeacefullynearbyinanestofrugs.Butthenquitesuddenly,shehadsatupandlookedaroundher.

“Isthefiretoohotforyou,princess?”

For a moment she continued to look bewildered, then wearilyloweredherselfbackdownontotherugs.Hereyesthoughremainedopen and Axl was about to repeat his question when she had saidquietly:

“Iwasthinkingofanightlongago,husband.Whenyouweregone,leavingme ina lonelybed,wondering tomyself ifyou’devercomebacktome.”

“Princess,thoughweescapedthosepixiesontheriver,Ifearsomespellstilllingersonyoutogiveyousuchdreams.”

“Nodream,husband.Justamemoryortworeturning.Thenightasdarkasany,andthereIwas,aloneinourbed,knowingallthewhileyouweregonetoanotheryoungerandfairer.”

“Won’t youbelieveme, princess?This is theworkof thosepixiesstillworkingmischiefbetweenus.”

“Youmayberight,Axl.Andiftheyweretruememories,they’reoflongago.Evenso…”Shebecamesilent,sothatAxlthoughtshehaddozed off again. But then she said: “Even so, husband, they’reremembrances to make me shrink from you. When we’ve finishedrestinghere,andwe’reonourpathagain,letmewalkalittlewayinfrontandyoubehind.Let’sgoonourwaylikethat,husband,forI’llnotwelcomeyourstepbesidemenow.”

Hesaidnothingtothisatfirst.Thenheloweredthegarmentawayfromthe fireandturnedto lookather.Hereyeswereclosedagain,yethewassureshehadnotfallenasleep.WhenAxlfinallyfoundhisvoice,ithadcomeoutasnomorethanawhisper.

“Itwouldbethesaddestthingtome,princess.Towalkseparatelyfromyou,whenthegroundwillletusgoaswealwaysdid.”

Beatrice gaveno indicationof havingheard, andwithinmomentsherbreathinghadgrownlongandeven.Hehadthenputonhisnewlywarmedclothesandlaindownonablanketnotfarfromhiswife,butwithout touching her. An overwhelming tiredness swept over him,and yet he saw again the pixies swarming in thewater before him,andthehoehehadswungthroughtheairlandingintheirmidst,andheremembered thenoiseasofchildrenplaying in thedistance,andhowhehadfought,almostlikeawarriorwithfuryinhisvoice.Andnowshehadsaidwhatshehad.Apicturecameintohismind,clearand vivid, of himself and Beatrice on a mountain road, large greyskiesabove them, shewalking several stepsbeforehim,andagreatmelancholywelledupwithinhim.Theretheywent,anelderlycouple,headsbowed,five,sixpacesapart.

He awoke to find the fire smouldering, and Beatrice on her feet,peeringoutthroughoneofthesmallgapsinthestonethatconstitutedthewindowsofanabodesuchasthis.Thoughtsoftheirlastexchangereturnedtohim,butBeatriceturned,herfeaturescaughtinatriangleofsunlight,andsaidinacheerfulvoice:

“I thought to wake you before, Axl, seeing the morning growoutside.But then Ikept thinkingof thesoakingyougot in theriverandthatyouneededmorethanabriefnodortwo.”

Onlywhenhedidnotreplydidsheask:“Whatisit,Axl?Whylookatmelikethat?”

“I’mjustgazingatyouinreliefandhappiness,princess.”

“I’mfeelingmuchbetter,Axl.RestwasallIneeded.”

“Iseethatnow.Thenlet’ssoonbeonourway,forasyousay,themorning’sgrownwhileweslept.”

“I’ve beenwatching these children, Axl. Even now they stand bythatsameditchaswhenwefirstcameuponthem.They’vesomethingdown there draws them and it’s somemischief, I’ll wager, for theyoften glance back theway they think some adult will discover andscoldthem.Wherecantheirpeoplebe,Axl?”

“It’snotourconcern,andbesides, theyseemwellenoughfedandclothed.Let’ssayourfarewellsandbegone.”

“Axl,canitbeyouandIwerequarrellingearlier?Ifeelsomethingcamebetweenus.”

“Nothingwecan’tputaside,princess.Thoughwemayspeakof itbeforetheday’sfinished,whoknows?Butlet’sbeonourwaybeforehungerandcoldovertakeusagain.”

Whentheyemergedintothechillysunshine,Axlsawpatchesoficeonthegrass,alargeskyandmountainsfadingintothedistance.Thegoatwaseatingoverinitsenclosure,amuddyupturnedbucketnearitsfeet.

Thethreechildrenwerestillbesidetheditch,lookingdownintoit,their backs to the cottage, and appeared to be quarrelling. The girlwasthefirst torealiseAxlandBeatricewereapproaching,andevenasshespunaroundherfacebrokeintoabrightsmile.

“Dear elders!” She started to come quickly away from the ditch,pulling her brothers with her. “I hope you found our homecomfortable,humblethoughitis!”

“We did, child, and we’re most grateful to you. Now we’re wellrestedandreadytobeonourway.Butwhat’sbecomeofyourpeoplethattheyleaveyoualone?”

The girl exchanged glances with her brothers, who had taken uppositionsoneithersideofher.Thenshesaid,alittlehesitantly:“Wemanagebyourselves,sir,”andputanarmaroundeachoftheboys.

“Andwhatisitdowninthatditchdrawsyouso?”Beatriceasked.

“It’sjustourgoat,mistress.Itwasonceourbestgoat,butitdied.”

“How did your goat come to die, child?” Axl asked gently. “Theothertherelookswellenough.”

The children exchanged more glances, and a decision seemed topassamongthem.

“Go look if you will, sir,” the girl said, and letting go of herbrothers,shesteppedtooneside.

Beatricefellinstepbesidehimashewenttowardstheditch.Beforetheywerehalfwaythere,Axlstoppedandsaidinawhisper:“Letmegoalonefirst,princess.”

“DoyouthinkIneversawadeadgoatbefore,Axl?”

“Evenso,princess.Waithereamoment.”

The ditch was as deep as a man’s height. The sun, now shiningalmostdirectlyintoit,shouldhavemadeiteasiertodiscernwhatwasbeforehim,but insteadcreatedconfusingshadows,andwhere therewaspuddleandice,amyriadofdazzlingsurfaces.Thegoatappearedto have been of monstrous proportions, and now lay in severaldismemberedpieces.Overthere,ahindleg;theretheneckandhead—the latter wearing a serene expression. It took a little longer toidentifythesoftupturnedbellyoftheanimal,becausepressedintoitwasagianthandemergingfromthedarkmud.Onlythendidheseethat much of what initially he had taken to be of the dead goatbelonged to a second creature entangledwith it. Thatmound therewas a shoulder; that a stiffened knee. Then he sawmovement andrealisedthethingintheditchwasstillalive.

“Whatdoyousee,Axl?”

“Don’t come forward, princess. It’s no sight to raise your spirits.Some poor ogre, I’d suppose, dying a slow death, andmaybe thesechildren have foolishly thrown it a goat, thinking it might recoveritselfwitheating.”

Evenashespoke,alargehairlessheadrevolvedslowlyintheslime,agapingeyemovingwith it.Thenthemudsuckedgreedilyandtheheadvanished.

“Wedidn’tfeedtheogre,sir,”thegirl’svoicesaidbehindhim.“Weknow never to feed an ogre, but to bar ourselves inside at theircoming.Andsowedidwiththisone,sir,andwewatchedfromourwindowwhilehepulleddownourfenceandtookourbestgoat.Thenhesatdownjustthere,sir,whereyouarenow,hislegsdanglingoverlike he’s an infant, and happily eating the goat raw, theway ogreswill.Weknewnottounbarthedoor,andthesungettinglower,andtheogre still eatingourgoat,butwecould seehe’sgettingweaker,sir.Thenatlasthestandsup,holdingwhat’sleftofthegoat,thenhefallsdown, first tohisknees, thenontohis side.Next thinghe rollsinto theditch, goat andall, and it’s twodayshe’s beendown thereandstillnotdead.”

“Let’scomeaway,child,”Axlsaid.“Thisisnosightforyouoryourbrothers.Butwhat is itmade thispoorogre so sick?Can itbeyourgoatwasdiseased?”

“Notdiseased,sir,poisoned!We’dbeenfeedingitmorethanafullweek just theway Bronwen taught us. Six times each daywith theleaves.”

“Whydidyoudosuchathing,child?”

“Why,sir,tomakethegoatpoisonousfortheshe-dragon.Thispoorogrewasn’ttoknowthatandsohepoisonedhimself.Butit’snotourfault,sir,becauseheshouldn’thavebeenmaraudingthewayhewas!”

“A moment, child,” Axl said. “Are you saying you fed the goatdeliberatelytofillitwithpoison?”

“Poisonfortheshe-dragon,sir,butBronwensaiditwouldn’tharmanyofus.Sohowcouldweknowthepoisonmightharmanogre?Weweren’ttoblame,sir,andmeantnowickedness!”

“No one will ever blame you, child. Yet tell me, why were youwishing to prepare poison for Querig, for I take it this is the she-dragonyoutalkof?”

“Oh, sir!We saidourprayersmorningandnightandoften in theday too.Andwhen you came thismorning,we knewGodhad sentyou.Sopleasesayyou’llhelpus,forwe’rejustpoorchildrenforgottenbyourparents!Willyoutakethatgoatthere,theonlyonelefttousnow, and go with it up that path to the giant’s cairn? It’s an easywalk,sir,lessthanhalfadaythereandback,andI’ddoitmyselfbutcan’t leavetheseyoungonesalone.We’vefedthisgoat just thewaywe did the one eaten by the ogre, and this with three more days’leaves in it. If only you’d take it to the giant’s cairn and leave ittethered there for the she-dragon, sir, and it’s but an easy stroll.Pleasesayyou’lldoit,elders,forwe’refearingnothingelsewillbringourdearmotherandfatherbacktous.”

“At last you speak of them,”Beatrice said. “What’s to be done tobringyourparentsbacktoyou?”

“Didn’twejusttellyou,mistress?Ifyou’donlytakethegoatuptothe giant’s cairn,where it’swell known food’s regularly left for theshe-dragon. Thenwho knows, she’ll perish the sameway that poorogre has, and he was a strong-looking one before his meal! We’dalways been afraid before of Bronwenbecause of herwise arts, butwhenshesawwewereherealone,forgottenbyourownparents,shetookpityonus.Sopleasehelpus,elders,forwhoknowswhenanyone

elsewillcomethisway?We’reafraidtoshowourselvestosoldiersorstrangemenwhopass,butyou’retheonesweprayedfortotheGodJesus.”

“Butwhat is it young children like you can know of thisworld,”askedAxl,“thatyoubelieveapoisonousgoatwillbringyourparentsbacktoyou?”

“It’s what Bronwen told us, sir, and though she’s a terrible oldwoman,sheneverlies.Shesaidit’stheshe-dragonlivesoverusheremade our parents forget us. And even though we often make ourmotherangrywithourmischief,Bronwensaysthedaysheremembersusagain,she’llhurrybackandholdusonebyonelikethis.”Thegirlsuddenly clutched an invisible child to her breast, her eyes closing,and rocked gently for amoment. Then opening her eyes again, shewenton:“But fornowtheshe-dragon’scast somespell tomakeourparents forget us, so they’ll not come home. Bronwen says the she-dragon’s a curse not just to us but to everyone and the sooner sheperishesthebetter.Soweworkedhard,sir,feedingbothgoatsexactlyasshesaid,sixtimeseachday.Pleasedoasweask,orwewon’teverseeourmotherandfatheragain.Allweaskisyoutetherthegoatatthegiant’scairnthengoyourway.”

Beatricestartedtospeak,butAxlsaidoverherquickly:“I’msorry,child.Wewishwecouldhelpyou,buttoclimbhigherintothesehillsisnowbeyondus.We’reelderly,andasyousee,wearyfromdaysofhardtravel.We’venochoicebuttohurryonourwaybeforefurthermisfortunetakesus.”

“But, sir, it was God himself sent you to us! And it’s but a shortstroll,andnotevenasteeppathfromhere.”

“Dear child,” Axl said, “our hearts go out to you, andwe’ll raisehelpatthenextvillage.Butwe’retooweaktodowhatyouask,andsurelyotherswillpassthiswaysoon,happytotakethegoatforyou.It’s beyond us old ones, butwe’ll pray for your parents’ return andthatGodwillkeepyousafealways.”

“Don’tgo,elders!Itwasn’tourfaulttheogrewaspoisoned.”

Takinghiswife’sarm,Axl ledherawayfromthechildren.Hedidnot lookbackuntil theyhadpassedthegoat’spen,andthenhesawthechildrenstill standingthere, threeabreast,watchingsilently, thetoweringcliffsbehindthem.Axlwavedencouragingly,butsomething

like shame—and perhaps the trace of some distant memory, amemoryofanothersuchdeparture—madehimincreasehispace.

But before they had gone far—themarshy ground had started todescendandthevalleystoopenbeforethem—Beatricetuggedhisarmtoslowthem.

“I didn’twish to talk across you before those children, husband,”shesaid.“Butisitreallybeyondustodoastheyask?”

“They’re in no immediate peril, princess, and we have our ownworries.Howgoesyourpainnow?”

“Mypain’snoworse.Axl,lookhowthosechildrenstandasweleftthem,watching aswe grow ever smaller in their sight. Can’twe atleastpausebeside this stoneand talk furtheron it?Let’snothastenawaycarelessly.”

“Don’tlookbacktothem,princess,foryouonlytaunttheirhopes.We’llnotgobacktotheirgoat,butdownintothisvalley,afireandwhatfoodkindstrangersmaygiveus.”

“But thinkonwhat it is theyask,Axl.”Beatricehadnowbroughtthem to a halt. “Will a chance like this ever come our way again?Thinkonit!WestumbletothisspotsonearQuerig’slair.Andthesechildrenofferapoisonousgoatbywhicheventhetwoofus,oldandweakthoughweare,mightbringdowntheshe-dragon!Thinkonit,Axl! If Querig falls, the mist will fast begin to clear. Who’s to saythosechildrenaren’trightandGodhimselfdidn’tbringusthisway?”

Axl remained silent for amoment, fighting the urge to look backtowardsthestonecottage.“There’snotellingthatgoatwillbringanyharmatalltoQuerig,”hesaideventually.“Ahaplessogre’sonething.Thisshe-dragon’sacreaturetoscatteranarmy.Andcanitbewisefortwoelderlyfoolslikeustowandersonearherlair?”

“We’renottofaceher,Axl,onlytotetherthegoatandflee.ItmaybedaysbeforeQuerigcomestothespot,andwe’llbythenbesafeatourson’svillage.Axl,don’twewantreturnedtousourmemoriesofthislonglifelivedtogether?Orwillwebecomelikestrangersmetonenightinashelter?Come,husband,saywe’llturnbackanddoasthosechildrenbidus.”

Soheretheywere,climbingstillhigher,thewindsgrowingstronger.

Forthemoment,thetwinrocksprovidedgoodshelter,buttheycouldnot stay like this for ever. Axl wondered yet again if he had beenfoolishtogivein.

“Princess,” he said eventually. “Suppose we really do this thing.SupposeGodallowsustosucceed,andwebringdowntheshe-dragon.I’dlikeyouthentopromisemesomething.”

Shewassittingclosebesidehimnow,thoughhereyeswerestillonthedistanceandthelineoftinyfigures.

“Whatisityouask,Axl?”

“It’s simply this, princess. Should Querig really die and the mistbegin to clear. Shouldmemories return, andamong themof times Idisappointedyou.OryetofdarkdeedsImayoncehavedonetomakeyoulookatmeandseenolongerthemanyoudonow.Promisemethisatleast.Promise,princess,you’llnotforgetwhatyoufeelinyourheart formeat thismoment.Forwhatgood’samemory’s returningfromthemistifit’sonlytopushawayanother?Willyoupromiseme,princess?Promisetokeepwhatyoufeelformethismomentalwaysinyourheart,nomatterwhatyouseeoncethemist’sgone.”

“I’llpromiseit,Axl,andnohardshiptodoso.”

“Wordscan’ttellhowitcomfortsmetohearyousayit,princess.”

“Aqueermoodyou’rein,Axl.Butwhoknowshowmuchfurtheritistillthegiant’scairn?Let’snotspendanymoretimesittingbetweenthese great stones. Those children were anxious when we left, andthey’llbeawaitingourreturn.”

Gawain’sSecondReverie

Thiscursedwind.Isthisastormbeforeus?Horacewillmindneitherwindnor rain,only thata strangersitsastridehimnowandnothisoldmaster. “Justawearywoman,” I tellhim,“withgreaterneedofthesaddlethanme.Socarryheringoodgrace.”Yetwhyisshehereatall?DoesMasterAxlnotseehowfrailshegrows?Hashe losthismindtobringhertotheseunforgivingheights?Butshepressesonasdeterminedashe,andnothingIsaywillturnthemback.SoIstaggerhereonfoot,ahandonHorace’sbridle,heavingthisrustycoat.“Didwe not always serve ladies with courtesy?” I murmur to Horace.“Wouldwerideon,leavingthisgoodcoupletuggingattheirgoat?”

Isawthemfirstassmallfiguresfarbelowandtookthemforthoseothers.“Seedownthere,Horace,”Isaidthen.“Alreadythey’vefoundeach other. Already they come, and as though that fellow took nowoundsatallfromBrennus.”

AndHoracelookedmywaythoughtfully,asthoughtoask,“Then,Gawain,willthisbethelasttimeweclimbthisbleakslopetogether?”AndIgavenoreplybuttostrokegentlyhisneck,thoughIthoughttomyself, “Thatwarrior’s young and a terrible fellow.Yet Imay havethebeatingofhim,who’stosay?Isawsomethingevenashebroughtdown Brennus’s man. Another would not see it, yet I did. A smallopeningontheleftforacannyfoe.”

But what would Arthur have me do now? His shadow still fallsacrossthelandandengulfsme.Wouldhehavemecrouchlikeabeastawaiting its prey?Yetwhere to hide on these bare slopes?Will thewindaloneconcealaman?OrshouldIperchonsomeprecipiceandhurldownaboulderatthem?HardlythewayforaknightofArthur.Iwould rather showmyself openly, greet him, try oncemore a littlediplomacy.“Turnback,sir.Youendangernot justyourselfandyourinnocent companion, but all the good folk of this country. LeaveQuerigtoonewhoknowsherways.Youseemeevennowonmywaytoslayher.”Butsuchpleaswereignoredbefore.Whywouldhehearmenowheiscomesoclose,andthebittenboytoguidehimtoherverydoor?WasIafooltorescuethatboy?Yettheabbotappalsme

so,andIknowGodwillthankmeforwhatIdid.

“Theycomeas surelyas theyhaveachart,” I said toHorace. “Sowhereshallwewait?Whereshallwefacethem?”

The copse. I remembered it then. Strange how the trees grow solushthere,whenthewindsweepsallaroundsobare.Thecopsewillprovidecoveringforaknightandhishorse. Iwillnotpouncelikeabandit,yetwhyshowmyselfagoodhourbeforetheencounter?

So I put a little spur on Horace, though it hardly makes animpression on him now, andwe crossed the high edge of the land,neitherrisingnorfalling,batteredallthewaybythewind.Wewereboththankfultoreachthosetrees,eveniftheygrowsostrangelyonewondersifMerlinhimselfcastaspellhere.WhatafellowwasMasterMerlin! I thought once he had placed a spell onDeath himself, yetevenMerlinhastakenhispathnow.Isitheavenorhellhemakeshishome?MasterAxlmaybelieveMerlinaservantof thedevil,yethispowerswereoftenenoughspentinwaystomakeGodsmile.Andletitnotbesaidhewaswithoutcourage.Manytimesheshowedhimselfto the fallingarrowsandwildaxesalongsideus.ThesemaywellbeMerlin’swoods,andmadeforthisverypurpose:thatImaysomedayshelterheretoawaittheonewhowouldundoourgreatworkofthatday. Two of us five fell to the she-dragon, yetMasterMerlin stoodbesideus,movingcalmlywithin the sweepofQuerig’s tail, forhowelsecouldhisworkbedone?

ThewoodswerehushedandpeacefulwhenHoraceand I reachedthem. Even a bird or two singing in the trees, and if the branchesstirredwildly,downbelowwasasacalmspring’sdaywhereatlastanold man’s thoughts may drift from one ear to the other withouttossinginatempest!ItmustbeseveralyearsnowsinceHoraceandIwerelastinthesewoods.Weedshavegrownmonstroushere,anettlerightlythespreadofasmallchild’spalmstandslargeenoughtowraparoundaman twiceover. I leftHorace at a gentle spot to chewonwhathecould,andwanderedawhilebeneath thesheltering leaves.Whyshould Inot resthere, leaningon thisgoodoak?Andwhen intime they come to this place, as they surelywill, he and Iwill faceeachotherasfellowwarriors.

I pushed through the giant nettles—is it for this I haveworn thiscreakingmetal?Todefendmyshinsfromthesefeatherystings?—untilI reached the clearing and the pond, the grey sky above it peeping

through.Arounditsrim,threegreattrees,yeteachonecrackedatthewaist and fallen forward into the water. Surely they stood proudlywhenwewere last here. Did lightning strike them? Or did they inwearyoldagelongforthepond’ssuccour,alwayssonearwheretheygrew,yetbeyondreach?Theydrinkalltheywishnow,andmountainbirdsnestintheirbrokenspines.WillitbeatsuchaspotImeettheSaxon? Ifhedefeatsme Imayhave life left tocrawl to thewater. Iwouldnottumblein,eveniftheicewouldadmitme,foritwouldbeno pleasure to grow bloated beneath this armour, andwhat chanceHorace,missinghismaster,willcometip-toeingthroughthegnarledrootsanddragoutmyremains?YetI’veseencomradesinbattleyearnforwaterastheyliewiththeirwounds,andwatchedyetotherscrawltotheedgeofariverorlake,eventhoughtheydoubletheiragoniestodoso.Istheresomegreatsecretknownonlytodyingmen?Myoldcomrade,MasterBuel,longedforwaterthatday,ashelayontheredclayofthatmountain.There’swaterhereleftinmygourd,Itoldhim,butno,hedemandsalakeorriver.Butwe’refarfromanysuchthing,Isay.“Curseyou,Gawain,”hecries.“Mylastwish,willyounotgrantit, and we comrades through many bold battles?” “But this she-dragon’sallbutpartedyouintwo,”Itellhim.“IfImustcarryyoutowater, I’llhave togounder this summersun,aseparatepartofyouundereacharmbeforewereachanysuchplace.”Buthesaystome,“My heart will welcome death only when you layme down besidewater,Gawain,whereIhearitsgentlelappingasmyeyesclose.”Hedemandsthis,andcaresnotwhetherourerrandiswelldone,orifhislife is given at a good price.Onlywhen I reach down to raise himdoes he ask: “Who else survives?” And I tell him Master Millus isfallen,yetthreeofusstillstand,andMasterMerlintoo.Andstillheasks not if the errand iswell finished, but talks of lakes and rivers,andnowevenofthesea,anditisallIcandotorememberthisismyoldcomrade,andabraveone,chosenlikemebyArthurforthisgreattask, even as a battle rages down in the valley. Does he forget hisduty? I lift him, and he cries out to the heavens, and only thenunderstandsthecostevenofafewsmallsteps,andthereweare,atopa red mountain in the summer heat, an hour’s journey even onhorseback to theriver.Andas I lowerhimhe talksnowonlyof thesea.Hiseyesblindnow,when I sprinklewateronhis face frommygourd, he thanksme theway I suppose inhismind’s eyehe standsuponashore.“Wasitswordoraxefinishedme?”heasks,andIsay,“Whatdoyoutalkof,comrade?It’stheshe-dragon’stailmetyou,but

our task’s done and you depart with pride and honour.” “The she-dragon,”hesays.“What’sbecomeoftheshe-dragon?”“Allbutoneofthe spears rest in her flank,” I say, “and now she sleeps.” Yet heforgetstheerrandagain,andtalksofthesea,andofaboatheknewasasmallboywhenhisfathertookhimfarfromtheshoreonakindevening.

Whenmyowntimecomes,willItoolongforthesea?IthinkIwillbecontentenoughwiththesoil.AndIwillnotdemandtheexactspot,but let it bewithin this countryHorace and I have spent the yearsroaming contentedly. Those darkwidows of earlierwould cackle tohearme,andhastentoremindmewithwhatImaysharemyplotofearth.“Foolishknight!Youaboveallneedchooseyourrestingplacewell,orfindyourselfaneighbourtotheveryonesyouslaughtered!”DidtheynotmakesomesuchjestevenastheythrewmudatHorace’srump?Howdare they!Were they there?Can itbe thiswomannowridesinmysaddlewouldsayasmuchifshecouldhearmythoughts?Shetalkedofslaughteredbabesdowninthatfoul-airedtunnel,evenas I deliveredher from themonks’ blackplans.Howdare she?Andnow she sits in my saddle, astride my dear battlehorse, and whoknowshowmanymorejourneysarelefttoHoraceandme?

Forawhilewethoughtthismightbeour last,but Ihadmistakenthis good couple for those others, and a while longer we travel inpeace.YetevenasIleadHoracebythebridle,Imustglanceback,forsurely theyarecoming,even ifwegowellahead.MasterAxlwalksbesideme,hisgoatforbiddinghimasteadystep.DoesheguesswhyIlook back so often? “Sir Gawain, were we not comrades once?” Iheardhimaskitearlythismorningaswecameoutofthetunnel,andItoldhimtofindaboattogodownstream.Yethereheis,stillinthemountains, his good wife beside him. I will not meet his eye. Agecloaksusboth,asthegrassandweedscloakthefieldswhereweoncefoughtandslaughtered.Whatisityouseek,sir?Whatisthisgoatyoubring?

“Turnback,friends,”Isaidwhentheycameuponmeinthewoods.“Thisisnowalkforelderlytravellerslikeyou.Andlookhowthegoodmistressholdsherside.Betweenhereandthegiant’scairnthere’sstillamile ormore, and the only shelter small rocks behindwhich onemustcurlwithbowedhead.Turnbackwhileyoustillhavestrength,and I’ll see this goat’s left at the cairn and tetheredwell.” But they

botheyedmesuspiciously,andMasterAxlwouldnotletgothegoat.The branches rustled above, and hiswife seated on the roots of anoak,gazingtothepondandthecrackedtreesstoopingtowater,andIsaidsoftly:“This isno journeyforyourgoodwife,sir.WhydidyounotdoasIadvisedandtaketheriverdownoutofthesehills?”“Wemusttakethisgoatwherewepromised,”saysMasterAxl.“Apromisemadetoachild.”Anddoeshelookatmestrangelyashesaysso,ordoIdreamit?“HoraceandIwilltakethegoat,”Isay.“Willyounottrustuswiththeerrand?IhardlybelievethisgoatwillmuchtroubleQuerig even if devouredwhole, yet shemay be a little slowed andlendmeanadvantage.Sogivemethecreatureandturnbackdownthe mountain before one or the other of you fall in your ownfootsteps.”

Theymovedthenintothetreesawayfromme,andIcouldheartheshapeoftheirloweredvoices,butnowords.ThenMasterAxlcomestomeand says: “Amomentmore formywife to rest, thenwewillcarryon,sir,tothegiant’scairn.”Iseeitisuselesstoarguemore,andIalsoeagertocontinueonourway,forwhoknowshowfarbehindisMasterWistanandhisbittenboy?

PartIV

ChapterFifteen

Some of you will have fine monuments by which the living mayremember the evil done to you. Some of you will have only crudewoodencrossesorpaintedrocks,whileyetothersofyoumustremainhidden in the shadows of history. You are in any case part of anancientprocession,andso it isalwayspossible thegiant’scairnwaserectedtomarkthesiteofsomesuchtragedy longagowhenyounginnocentswereslaughteredinwar.Thisaside,itisnoteasytothinkof reasons for its standing. One can see why on lower ground ourancestorsmighthavewishedtocommemorateavictoryoraking.Butwhystackheavystonestoaboveaman’sheightinsohighandremoteaplaceasthis?

It was a question, I am sure, equally to baffle Axl as he camewearily up the mountain slope. When the young girl had firstmentioned thegiant’s cairn,hehadpictured somethingatopa largemound. Yet this cairn had simply appeared before them on theincline, no feature around it to explain its presence. The goat,nonetheless, seemed immediately to sense its significance, strugglingfrantically as soon as the cairn had become visible as a dark fingeragainstthesky.“Itknowsitsfate,”SirGawainhadremarked,guidinghishorseupwithBeatriceinthesaddle.

Butnowthegoathadforgotten itsearlierdreadandwaschewingthemountaingrasscontentedly.

“CanitbeQuerig’smistworksitsmischiefongoatsandmenalike?”

It was Beatrice who asked this as she held with both hands theanimal’srope.Axlhadforthemomentrelinquishedthecreaturewhilehehammeredintothegroundwithastonethewoodenstakearoundwhichtheropehadbeenwound.

“Whoknows,princess.ButifGodcaresatallforgoats,he’llbringtheshe-dragonherebeforelong,orit’llbealonelywaitforthispooranimal.”

“If thegoatdies first,Axl,doyousupposeshe’ll still suponmeatnotlivingandfresh?”

“Who knows how a she-dragon likes her meat? But there’s grassheretokeepthisgoatawhile,princess,evenifit’sofameansort.”

“Lookthere,Axl.Ithoughttheknightwouldhelpus,wearyaswebothare.Buthe’sforgottenhisusualmanners.”

IndeedSirGawainhadbecomeoddlyreticentsincetheirarrivalatthecairn.“Thisistheplaceyouseek,”hehadsaidinanalmostsulkyvoice,beforewanderingoff.Andnowhestoodwithhisbacktothem,staringattheclouds.

“SirGawain,”Axlcalledout,pausingfromhiswork.“Willyounotassistholdingthisgoat?Mypoorwifegrowstiredfromit.”

Theoldknightdidnotreact,andAxl,assuminghehadnotheard,wasabout to repeathis request,whenGawain turnedsuddenly,andwithsuchalookofsolemnity,theybothstaredathim.

“Iseethembelow,”theoldknightsaid.“Andnothingnowtoturnthem.”

“Whoisityousee,sir?”Axlasked.Thenwhentheknightremainedsilent, “Are they soldiers?Wewatchedearlier some longcolumnonthehorizon,butthoughttheymovedawayfromus.”

“Ispeakofyourrecentcompanions,sir.Thesamewithwhomyoutravelledyesterdaywhenwemet.Theyemergefromthewoodbelow,andwho’ll stop themnow?For amoment, I raisedahope Imerelylooked on two black widows strayed from that infernal procession.Butitwasthecloudyskyplayingitstricks,andit’sthem,nomistake.”

“SoMasterWistanescapedthemonasteryafterall,”Axlsaid.

“Thathedid, sir.Andnowhecomes,andonhis ropenotagoat,buttheSaxonboytoguidehim.”

At last Sir Gawain seemed to notice Beatrice struggling with theanimalandcamehurriedlyfromthecliffedgetoseizetherope.ButBeatrice did not let go, and for amoment it was as if she and theknight were tussling for control of the goat. In time they stoodsteadily,bothholdingtherope,theoldknightasteportwoinfrontofBeatrice.

“Andhaveourfriendsinturnseenushere,SirGawain?”Axlasked,returningtohistask.

“I’llwagerthatwarriorhaskeeneyes,andseesusevennowagainst

thesky,figuresinatugcontest,thegoatouropponent!”Helaughedto himself, but a melancholy lingered in his voice. “Yes,” he saidfinally.“Ifancyheseesuswellenough.”

“Then he joins forceswith us,” Beatrice said, “to bring down theshe-dragon.”

SirGawainlookedfromonetotheotherofthemuneasily.Thenhesaid:“MasterAxl,doyoustillpersistinbelievingit?”

“Believingwhat,SirGawain?”

“Thatwegatherhereinthisforsakenspotascomrades?”

“Makeyourmeaningclearer,sirknight.”

Gawain led the goat to where Axl was kneeling, oblivious ofBeatricefollowingbehind,stillclutchingherendoftherope.

“MasterAxl,didn’tourwayspartyearsago?Mine remainedwithArthur,whileyours…”HeseemednowtobecomeawareofBeatricebehindhim,andturning,bowedpolitely.“Dearlady,Ibegyouletgothisropeandrest.I’llnotlettheanimalescape.Sitdownbesidethecairnthere.Itwillshelteratleastsomepartofyoufromthiswind.”

“Thank you, Sir Gawain,” Beatrice said. “Then I’ll trust youwiththiscreature,andit’sapreciousonetous.”

Shebegantomakeherwaytowardsthecairn,andsomethingaboutthewayshedidso,hershouldershunchedagainstthewind,causedafragment of recollection to stir on the edges of Axl’s mind. Theemotion it provoked, even before he could hold it down, surprisedandshockedhim,formingledwiththeoverwhelmingdesiretogotoher now and shelter her, were distinct shadows of anger andbitterness.Shehad talkedofa longnight spentalone, tormentedbyhisabsence,butcoulditbehetoohadknownsuchanight,orevenseveral,ofsimilaranguish?Then,asBeatricestoppedbeforethecairnand bowed her head to the stones as if in apology, he felt bothmemoryandangergrowing firmer, anda fearmadehim turnawayfrom her. Only then did he notice Sir Gawain also gazing over atBeatrice, a look of tenderness in his eyes, seemingly lost in histhoughts.Buttheknightsooncollectedhimself,andcomingclosertoAxl, leant right down as though to remove any small chance ofBeatriceoverhearing.

“Who’stosayyourpathwasn’tthemoregodly?”hesaid.“Toleavebehindallgreattalkofwarandpeace.LeavebehindthatfinelawtobringmenclosertoGod.ToleavebehindArthuronceandforallanddevote yourself to…” He glanced over again at Beatrice, who hadremainedonherfeet,herforeheadalmosttouchingthepiledstonesinherefforttoescapethewind.“Toagoodwife,sir.I’vewatchedhowshegoesbesideyouasakindshadow.ShouldIhavedonethesame?YetGodguidedusdownseparatepaths. Ihadaduty.Ha!Anddo Ifearhimnow?Never,sir,never. Iaccuseyouofnothing.Thatgreatlawyoubrokeredtorndowninblood!Yetitheldwellforatime.Torndowninblood!Whoblamesusforitnow?DoIfearyouth?Isityouthalone can defeat an opponent? Let him come, let him come.Rememberit,sir!Isawyouthatverydayandyoutalkedofcriesinyourearsofchildrenandbabes.Iheardthesame,sir,yetweretheynotlikethecriesfromthesurgeon’stentwhenaman’slifeissparedevenasthecurebringsagonies?YetIadmitit.TherearedaysIlongforakindshadowtofollowme.EvennowIturninhopetoseeone.Doesn’teveryanimal,everybirdintheskycraveatendercompanion?TherewereoneortwoI’dwillinglyhavegivenmyyears.WhyshouldI fear him now? I’ve fought fangedNorsemenwith reindeer snouts,and theynomasks!Here, sir, tieyourgoatnow.Howmuchdeeperwillyoudrivethatstake?Isitagoatyoutetheroralion?”

HandingAxltherope,Gawainwentstridingoff,notstoppingtillhestoodwheretheland’sedgeappearedtomeetthesky.Axl,onekneepressed into thegrass, tied the rope tightlyaround thenotch in thewood, then lookedoncemoreover tohiswife. Shewas standing atthecairnmuchasbefore,andthoughsomethinginherpostureagaintugged at him, he was relieved to find in himself no trace of theearlier bitterness. Instead he felt almost overcome by an urge todefend her, not just from the harsh wind, but from something elselargeanddarkeventhengatheringaroundthem.Heroseandhurriedtoher.

“Thegoat’swellsecured,princess,”hesaid.“Justassoonasyou’reready, let’s be off down this slope. For haven’t we completed theerrandpromisedtothosechildrenandtoourselves?”

“OhAxl,Idon’twanttogobacktothosewoods.”

“Whatareyousaying,princess?”

“Axl,youneverwenttothepond’sedge,youweresobusytalking

tothisknight.Youneverlookedintothatchillywater.”

“Thesewindshavetiredyou,princess.”

“Isawtheirfacesstaringupasifrestingintheirbeds.”

“Who,princess?”

“The babes, and only a short way beneath the water’s surface. Ithought first theywere smiling, and somewaving, butwhen IwentnearerIsawhowtheylayunmoving.”

“Justanotherdreamcametoyouwhileyourestedagainstthattree.I remember seeingyouasleep thereand tookcomfort from itat thetime,evenasItalkedwiththeoldknight.”

“Itrulysawthem,Axl.Amongthegreenweed.Let’snotgobacktothatwood,forI’msuresomeevillingersthere.”

SirGawain,gazingdownattheview,hadraisedhisarmintheair,andnowwithoutturning,shoutedthroughthewind:“They’llsoonbeuponus!Theycomeuptheslopeeagerly.”

“Let’s go to him, princess, but keep the cloak around you. I wasfoolishtobringyouthisfar,butwe’llsoonfindshelteragain.Yetlet’sseewhattroublesthegoodknight.”

The goat was pulling at its rope as they passed, but the stakeshowed no sign of shifting.Axl had been keen to see hownear theapproaching figures were, but now the old knight came walkingtowardsthem,andtheyallthreehaltednotfarfromwheretheanimalwastethered.

“SirGawain,”Axl said, “mywife growsweak andmust return toshelterandfood.Maywecarryherdownonyourhorseaswebroughtherup?”

“What’s this you ask? Toomuch, sir!Did I not tell youwhenwemet inMerlin’swood to climb this hill no further? Itwas youbothinsistedoncominghere.”

“Perhapswewerefoolish,sir,butwehadapurpose,andifwemustturnbackwithoutyou,youmustpromisenottofreethisgoatcostussodearlytobringhere.”

“Freethegoat?WhatdoIcareforyourgoat,sir?TheSaxonwarriorwillsoonbeuponus,andwhatafellowheis!Go,lookifyoudoubt

it!WhatdoIcareforyourgoat?MasterAxl,IseeyoubeforemenowandI’mremindedof thatnight.Thewindas fierce thenas thisone.And you, cursingArthur to his facewhile the rest of us stoodwithheadsbowed!Forwhowantedthetaskofstrikingyoudown?Eachofushidingfromtheking’seye,forfearhe’dcommandwithoneglanceto run you through, unarmed though youwere. But see, sir, Arthurwasagreatking,andhere’smoreproofofit!Youcursedhimbeforehisfinestknights,yetherepliedgentlytoyou.Yourecallthis,sir?”

“Irecallnothingofit,SirGawain.Yourshe-dragon’sbreathkeepsitallfromme.”

“Myeyesloweredliketherest,expectingyourheadtorollpastmyfeet even as I gazed down at them! Yet Arthur spoke to you withgentleness! You don’t recall even a part of it? The wind that nightalmostasstrongas thisone,our tentreadyto fly into thedarksky.YetArthurmeetscurseswithgentlewords.Hethankedyouforyourservice. For your friendship. And he bade us all think of you withhonour.Imyselfwhisperedfarewelltoyou,sir,asyoutookyourfuryintothestorm.Youdidn’thearme,foritwassaidundermybreath,butasincerefarewellallthesame,andIwasn’talone.Weallsharedsomethingofyouranger,sir,evenifyoudidwrongtocurseArthur,andontheverydayofhisgreatvictory!YousaynowQuerig’sbreathkeepsthisfromyourmind,orisittheyearsalone,oreventhiswindenoughtomakethewisestmonkafool?”

“Idon’t care foranyof thesememories,SirGawain.Today I seekothersfromanotherstormynightmywifespeaksof.”

“AsincerefarewellIbadeyou,sir,andletmeconfessit,whenyoucursedArthurasmallpartofmespoke throughyou.For thatwasagreat treaty you brokered, and well held for years. Didn’t all men,Christian and pagan, sleep more easily for it, even on the eve ofbattle?Tofightknowingourinnocentssafeinourvillages?Andyet,sir,thewarsdidn’tfinish.WhereoncewefoughtforlandandGod,wenow fought to avenge fallen comrades, themselves slaughtered invengeance.Wherecoulditend?Babesgrowingtomenknowingonlydaysofwar.Andyourgreatlawalreadysufferingviolation…”

“The lawwaswellheldonbothsidesuntil thatday,SirGawain,”Axlsaid.“Itwasanunholythingtobreakit.”

“Ah,nowyourecallit!”

“Mymemory’sofGodhimselfbetrayed,sir.AndI’mnotsorryifthemistrobsmefurtherofit.”

“Fora time Iwished the sameof themist,MasterAxl.Yet soon Iunderstood the hand of a truly great king. For thewars stopped atlast,wasn’tthatso,sir?Hasn’tpeacebeenourcompanionsincethatday?”

“Remindmenomore,SirGawain.Idon’tthankyouforit.LetmeseeinsteadthelifeIledwithmydearwife,shiveringherebesideme.Will you not lend us your horse, sir? At least down to the woodswherewemet.We’llleavehimsafelytheretoawaityou.”

“OhAxl, I’ll not return to thosewoods!Why insistwe leave thisplacenowandgodownthere?Canitbe,husband,youstill fearthemist’sfading,nevermindthepromiseImadeyou?”

“Myhorse,sir?YouimplyI’venomoreuseofmyHorace?Yougotoofar,sir!Idon’tfearhim,evenifhe’syouthonhisside!”

“I imply nothing, Sir Gawain, only ask for the assistance of yourexcellenthorsetocarrymywifedowntoshelter…”

“My horse, sir? Do you insist his eyes be masked or watch hismaster’s fall? He’s a battlehorse, sir! Not some pony frolics inbuttercups!Abattlehorse,sir,andwellreadytoseemefallortriumphasGodwills!”

“Ifmywifemusttravelonmyownback,sirknight,sobeit.YetIthoughtyoumightspareyourhorseatleastthedistancedowntothewood…”

“I’ll remain here, Axl, never mind this cruel wind, and if MasterWistan’s nearly upon us, we’ll stay and see if it’s him or the she-dragon survives thisday.Or is it you’d rathernot see themist fadeafterall,husband?”

“I’ve seen it beforemany times, sir! An eager young one broughtdownbyawiseoldhead.Manytimes!”

“Sir,letmeimploreyouagaintorememberyourgentlemanlyways.Thiswinddrainsmywifeofstrength.”

“Is it not enough, husband, I swore you an oath, and only thismorning, I’d not let go what I feel in my heart for you today, nomatterwhatthemist’sfadingreveals?”

“Willyounotunderstandtheactsofagreatking,sir?Wecanonlywatch and wonder. A great king, like God himself, must performdeedsmortalsflinchfrom!Doyouthinktherewerenonethatcaughtmyeye?A tender flower or twopassedon theway I didn’t long topresstomybosom?Isthismetalcoattobemyonlybedfellow?Whocallsme a coward, sir?Or a slaughterer of babes?Wherewere youthatday?Wereyouwithus?Myhelmet!Ileftitinthosewoods!Butwhatneedof itnow?Thearmour too I’d takeoffbut I fearyoualllaughingtoseetheskinnedfoxbeneath!”

Foramoment,allthreeofthemwereshoutingovereachother,thehowlof thewinda fourthvoiceagainst theirs,butnowAxlbecameaware that both Gawain and his wife had fallen silent and werestaringpasthisshoulder.Turning,hesawthewarriorandtheSaxonboystandingatthecliff’sedge,almostontheveryspotwherebeforeSirGawainhadbeengazingbroodinglyoutattheview.Theskyhadthickened,sothattoAxlitwasasifthenewcomershadbeencarriedhere on the clouds.Nowboth of them, in near-silhouette, appearedpeculiarlytransfixed:thewarriorholdingfirmhisreininbothhandslike a charioteer; the boy leaning forward at an angle, both armsoutstretched as though for balance. There was a new sound in thewind,and thenAxlheardSirGawainsay:“Ah! theboysingsagain!Canyounotmakehimcease,sir?”

Wistan gave a laugh, and the two figures lost their rigidity andcametowardsthem,theboypullinginfront.

“Myapologies,”thewarriorsaid.“Yetit’sall Icandotostophimleapingrocktorocktillhebreakshimself.”

“Whatcanbethematterwiththeboy,Axl?”Beatricesaid,closetohisear, andhewasgrateful tohear thegentle intimacy returned tohervoice.“Hewasjustthiswaybeforethatdogappeared.”

“Musthesingsountunefully?”SirGawainaddressedWistanagain.“I’dboxhisearsbutfearhe’dnotevenfeelme!”

The warrior, still approaching, laughed again, then glancedcheerfullyatAxlandBeatrice.“Myfriends,thisisasurprise.Ifanciedyou’dbeinyourson’svillagebynow.Whatbringsyouinsteadtothislonelyspot?”

“The samebusinessasyours,MasterWistan.Wecrave theend tothis she-dragon who robs us of treasured memories. You see, sir,

we’vebroughtwithusapoisonedgoattodoourwork.”

Wistan regarded the animal and shook his head. “Thismust be amighty and cunning creaturewe face, friends. I fear your goatmaynottroubleherbeyondabelchortwo.”

“Ittaxedusgreatlybringingithere,MasterWistan,”Beatricesaid,“evenifwewerehelpedbythisgoodknightmetagainonthewayup.Butseeingyouhere,I’mcheered,foritmustbeourhopesnolongerrestsolelywithouranimal.”

ButnowEdwin’ssingingwasmakingithardforthemtohearoneanother, and the boywas tuggingmore than ever, the object of hisattentionquiteevidentlyaspotatthecrestofthenextslope.Wistangavetheropeasharppull,thensaid:

“Master Edwin appears anxious to reach those rocks up there. SirGawain,what lies in them? I see stones piled one upon another, asthoughtohideapitorlair.”

“Why askme, sir?” said SirGawain. “Ask your young companionandhemayevenstophissongs!”

“I hold him by a leash, sir, but can nomore control him than acrazedgoblin.”

“MasterWistan,”Axlsaid,“weshareadutytokeepthisboyfromharm.Wemustwatchhimcarefullyinthishighplace.”

“Well said, sir. I’ll tether him, if Imay, to the same post as yourgoat.”

Thewarrior led Edwin towhereAxl had hammered in the stake,and crouching down began securing the boy’s rope to it. Indeed itseemedtoAxlthatWistanlavishedunusualcareonthistask,testingrepeatedly each knot he made, as well as the soundness of Axl’shandiwork. Meanwhile the boy himself remained oblivious. Hecalmedsomewhat,buthisgazestayedfixedontherocksatthetopoftheslope,andhecontinuedtotugwithquietinsistence.Hissinging,thoughfarlessshrill,hadgainedadoggedqualitythatremindedAxlofthewayexhaustedsoldierssingtokeepmarching.Foritspart,thegoat hadmoved as far away as its own ropewould allow, butwasnonethelessgawpinginfascination.

AsforSirGawain,hehadbeenwatchingWistan’severymovement

withcare,and—soitseemedtoAxl—akindofslycunninghadcomeintohiseyes.AstheSaxonwarriorhadbecomeabsorbedinhistask,the knight had moved stealthily closer, drawn out his sword, andplantingitintothesoil,leanthisweightonit,forearmsrestingonthebroadhilt. In this stance,GawainwasnowwatchingWistan, and itstruck Axl hemight bememorising details concerning thewarrior’sperson:hisheight,hisreach,thestrengthinthecalves,thestrappedleftarm.

Hiswork completed tohis satisfaction,Wistan rose and turned tofaceSirGawain.Forasmallmomenttherewasastrangeuneasinessinthelookstheyexchanged,thenWistansmiledwarmly.

“Now here’s a custom divides Britons from Saxons,” he said,pointing. “See there, sir. Your sword’s drawn and you use it to restyour weight, as if it’s cousin to a chair or footstool. To any Saxonwarrior, even one taught by Britons as I was, it seems a strangecustom.”

“Growtomycreakyyears,sir,you’llsee if itseemssostrange! Indaysofpeacelikethese, I fancyagoodsword’sonlytoogladofthework, even if just to relieve its owner’s bones.What’s odd about it,sir?”

“Butobserve,SirGawain,howitpressesintotheearth.NowtousSaxons,asword’sedgeisathingofnever-sleepingworry.Wefeartoshowabladeeventheairlestitloseatinypartofitsedge.”

“Is that so? A sharp edge’s of importance,MasterWistan, I’ll notdispute.But isn’t there toomuchmadeof it?Good footwork, soundstrategy,calmcourage.Andthatlittlewildnessmakesawarriorhardto predict. These are what determine a contest, sir. And theknowledge God wills one’s victory. So let an old man rest hisshoulders. Besides, aren’t there times a sword left in the sheath’sdrawn too late? I’ve stood thisway onmany a battlefield to gatherbreath,comfortedmyblade’salreadyoutandready,anditwon’tberubbingitseyesandaskingmeifit’safternoonormornevenasItrytoputittogooduse.”

“ThenitmustbeweSaxonskeepourswordsmoreheartlessly.Forwedemandtheynotsleepatall,evenastheyrestinthedarkoftheirscabbards.Takemyownhere,sir.Itknowsmymannerwell.Itdoesn’texpecttotaketheairwithoutsoontouchingfleshandbone.”

“Adifferenceincustomthen,sir. ItremindsmeofaSaxonIonceknew,afinefellow,andheandIgatheringkindlingonacoldnight.Iwouldbebusyingmyswordtohackfromadeadtree,yetthereheisbesideme, employing his bare hands and sometimes a blunt stone.‘Have you forgotten your blade, friend?’ I asked him. ‘Why go at itlike a sharp-clawed bear?’ But he wouldn’t hear me. At the time Ithoughthimcrazed,yetnowyouenlightenme.Evenwithmyyears,therearestilllessonstolearn!”

Theybothlaughedbriefly,thenWistansaid:

“Theremay bemore than custom onmy side, Sir Gawain. I wasalwaystaughtthatevenasmybladetravelsthroughoneopponent,Imustinmythoughtpreparethecutthatwillfollow.Nowifmyedgeisn’t sharp, sir, and the blade’s passage slowed even a tiny instant,snaggedinboneordawdlingthroughthetanglesofaman’s insides,I’ll surelybe late for thenextcut,andonsuchmayhangvictoryordefeat.”

“You’reright,sir.Ibelieveit’soldageandtheselongyearsofpeacemakemecareless.I’llfollowyourexamplefromhere,yetjustnowmykneessagfromtheclimb,andIbegyouallowmethissmallrelief.”

“Of course, sir, take your comfort. Merely a thought struck meseeingyourestthatway.”

Suddenly Edwin stopped singing and began to shout. He wasmaking the same statement over and over, and Axl, turning toBeatricebesidehim,askedquietly:“Whatisithesays,princess?”

“Hetalksofsomebandits’campliesupthere.Hebidsusallfollowhimtoit.”

Wistan and Gawainwere both staring at the boywith somethinglikeembarrassment.Foranothermoment,Edwincontinued to shoutand pull, then fell silent, slumping down onto the ground, andappearedonthevergeoftears.Noonespokeforwhatseemedalongtime,thewindhowlingbetweenthem.

“SirGawain,”Axlsaidfinally.“Welooknowtoyou,sir.Let’skeepnomoredisguisesbetweenus.You’retheshe-dragon’sprotector,areyounot?”

“Iam,sir.”Gawaingazedateachoftheminturn,Edwinincluded,withanairofdefiance.“Herprotector,andlatelyheronlyfriend.The

monkskeptherfedforyears,leavingtetheredanimalsatthisspot,asyoudo.Butnow theyquarrel among themselves, andQuerig sensestheirtreachery.YetsheknowsIstayloyal.”

“ThenSirGawain,”Wistansaid,“willyoucaretotellusifwestandneartheshe-dragonnow?”

“She’s near, sir. You’ve donewell to arrive here, even if you hadgoodfortunestumblingonthatboyforaguide.”

Edwin,whowasbackonhisfeet,begantosingoncemore,albeitinalowchant-likemanner.

“Master Edwin here may prove of greater fortune yet,” said thewarrior. “For I’ve a hunch he’s a pupil to quickly surpass his poormasterandonedaydogreatthingsforhiskin.PerhapsevenasyourArthurdidforhis.”

“What,sir?Thisboynowsingingandtugginglikeahalf-wit?”

“SirGawain,”Beatriceinterrupted,“tellawearyoldwomanifyouwill. How is it a fine knight like you, and a nephew to the greatArthur,turnsoutthisshe-dragon’sprotector?”

“PerhapsMasterWistanhere’skeentoexplainit,mistress.”

“On the contrary, I’m as eager as Mistress Beatrice to hear youraccountofit.Yetallingoodtime.First,wemustsettleonequestion.WillIcutlooseMasterEdwintoseewhereheruns?Orwillyou,SirGawain,leadthewaytoQuerig’slair?”

SirGawainstaredemptilyatthestrugglingboy,thensighed.“Leavehimwhereheis,”hesaidheavily.“I’llleadtheway.”Hestraightenedto his full height, pulled the sword from the ground and carefullyreturnedittoitsscabbard.

“I thankyou,sir,”Wistansaid.“I’mgratefulwespare theboythedanger.YetImaynowguessthewaywithoutaguide.Wemustgotothoserocksatopthisnextslope,mustwenot?”

Sir Gawain sighed again, glanced at Axl as though for help, thenshookhisheadsadly.“Quiteright,sir,”hesaid.“Thoserockscircleapit,andnosmallone.Apitasdeepasaquarry,andyou’llfindQuerigasleep there. If you really mean to fight her, MasterWistan, you’llhavetoclimbdownintoit.NowIaskyou,sir,doyoureallymeantodosuchawildthing?”

“I’vecomethislongwaytodoso,sir.”

“Master Wistan,” Beatrice said, “if you’ll excuse an old woman’sintrusion.Youlaughedjustnowatourgoat,butthisisagreatbattleyouface.Ifthisknightwillnothelpyou,atleastallowustotakeourgoatupthislastslopeandproditdownintothispit.Ifyoumustfightashe-dragonsingle-handed,letitbeoneslowedbypoison.”

“Thankyou,mistress,yourconcern’swellreceived.YetwhileImaytake advantage of her slumber, poison’s a weapon I don’t care toemploy.Besides,I lackthepatiencenowtowaitanotherhalfdayormoretodiscoveriftheshe-dragonwillsickenfromhersupper.”

“Thenlet’shaveitoverwith,”SirGawainsaid.“Come,sir,I’llleadtheway.” Then to Axl and Beatrice: “Wait down here, friends, andhidefromthewindbesidethecairn.You’llnotwaitlong.”

“ButSirGawain,”Beatricesaid,“myhusbandandI’vestretchedourstrengthtocomethisfar.We’dwalkwithyouthislastslopeifthere’sawaytodosowithoutdanger.”

SirGawainonceagainshookhisheadhelplessly.“Thenlet’sallgotogether,friends.Idaresaynoharmwillbefallyou,andI’llbeeasiermyselfforyourpresence.Come,friends,let’sgotoQuerig’slair,andkeepyourvoiceslowlestshestirfromhersleep.”

As they ascended the next path, the wind grew less harsh, eventhough they feltmore than ever tobe touching the sky.Theknightandthewarriorwerestridingsteadilybeforethem,forall theworldlike two old companions taking the air together, and before long adistancehadopenedbetweenthemandtheelderlycouple.

“This is foolishness, princess,” Axl said as they walked. “Whatbusiness do we have following these gentlemen? And who knowswhatdangerslieahead?Let’sturnbackandwaitbesidetheboy.”

ButBeatrice’s step remaineddetermined. “I’llhaveusgoon,” shesaid.“Here,Axl,takemyhandandhelpmekeepmycourage.ForI’mthinkingnowI’mtheonetofearmostthemist’sclearing,notyou.Istoodbesidethosestonesjustnowanditcametomethereweredarkthings I did to you once, husband. Feel how this hand trembles inyourstothinktheymaybereturnedtous!Whatwillyousaytomethen?Willyouturnawayandleavemeonthisbleakhill?There’sa

partofmewouldseethisbravewarriorfallevenashewalksbeforeusnow,yetI’llnothaveushide.No,I’llnot,Axl,andaren’tyouthesame?Let’s see freely thepathwe’vecome together,whether it’s indark or mellow sun. And if this warrior must really face the she-dragoninherownpit,let’sdowhatwecantokeepuphisspirits.Itmay be a shout ofwarning in the right place, or one to rouse himfromafierceblowwillmakethedifference.”

Axl had let her talk on, listening with only half his mind as hewalked,becausehehadbecomeawareoncemoreofsomethingatthefar edge of his memory: a stormy night, a bitter hurt, a lonelinessopeningbeforehimlikeunfathomedwaters.Coulditreallyhavebeenhe,notBeatrice, standingalone in theirchamber,unable to sleep,asmallcandlelitbeforehim?

“What became of our son, princess?” he asked suddenly, and feltherhandtightenonhis.“Doeshereallywaitforusinhisvillage?Orwillwesearchthiscountryforayearandstillnotfindhim?”

“It’sa thoughtcametometoo,but Iwasafraid to think italoud.Buthushnow,Axl,orwe’llbeheard.”

IndeedSirGawainandWistanhadhaltedonthepathaheadtowaitforthem,andappearedtobeingenialconversation.Ashecameuptothem, Axl could hear Sir Gawain saying with a small chuckle: “I’llconfess,MasterWistan,myhope’sthatevennowQuerig’sbreathwillrobyouof thememoryofwhyyouwalkbesideme. IawaiteagerlyyouraskingwhereitisIleadyou!YetIseefrombothyoureyeandstepyouforgetlittle.”

Wistansmiled.“Ibelieve,sir,it’sthisverygifttowithstandstrangespellswonmethiserrandfrommyking.Forinthefens,we’veneverknownacreaturequitelikethisQuerig,yethaveknownotherswithwonderfulpowers,anditwasnoticedhowlittleIwasswayed,evenasmycomradesswoonedandwanderedindreams.Ifancythiswasmyking’sonlyreasontochooseme,foralmostallmycomradesathomearebetterwarriorsthanthisonewalksbesideyounow.”

“Impossibletobelieve,MasterWistan!Bothreportandobservationtellofyourextraordinaryqualities.”

“Youoverestimateme, sir. Yesterday, needing to bring down thatsoldierunderyourgaze,Iwasalltooawarehowamanofyourskillmight view my small accomplishments. Sufficient to defeat a

frightenedguardsman,butfarshortofyourapproval,Ifear.”

“Whatnonsense, sir!You’re a splendid fellow, andnomore of it!Now, friends”—Gawain turned his gaze to include Axl and Beatrice—“it’snotsofarnow.Let’sbemovingonwhileshestillsleeps.”

They continued in silence.This timeAxl andBeatricedidnot fallbehind, for a sense of solemnity seemed to descend onGawain andWistan,makingthemproceedinfrontatanalmostceremonialpace.In any case, the ground had become less demanding, levelling tosomething like a plateau. The rocks they had discussed from belownow loomed before them, and Axl could see, as they came evernearer,howtheywerearrangedinaroughsemi-circlearoundthetopofamoundtothesideoftheirpath.Hecouldseetoohowarowofsmaller stones rose in a kindof stairwayup the sideof themound,leadingrightuptotherimofwhatcouldonlybeapitofsignificantdepth. The grass all aroundwhere they had now arrived seemed tohave been blackened or burnt, lending the surroundings—alreadywithouttreeorshrub—anatmosphereofdecay.Gawain,bringingtheparty toahaltnearwhere the crude stairwaybegan, turned to faceWistanwithsomedeliberation.

“Willyounotconsideralasttime,sir,leavingthisdangerousplan?Whynotreturnnowtoyourorphantiedtohisstick?There’shisvoiceinthewindevennow.”

The warrior glanced back the way they had come, then lookedagainatSirGawain.“Youknowit,sir.Icannotturnback.Showmethisdragon.”

The old knight nodded thoughtfully, as though Wistan had justmadesomecasualbutfascinatingobservation.

“Verywell,friends,”hesaid.“Thenkeepyourvoiceslow,forwhatpurposeshouldwewakeher?”

SirGawainledthewayupthesideofthemoundandonreachingthe rocks signalled for them towait.He thenpeeredover carefully,andafteramoment,beckonedtothem,sayinginalowvoice:“Comestandalonghere,friends,andyou’llseeherwellenough.”

Axlhelpedhiswifeontoaledgebesidehim,thenleantoveroneofthe rocks. The pit below was broader and shallower than he hadexpected—morelikeadrainedpondthansomethingactuallyduginto

the ground. The greater part of it was now in pale sunlight, andseemed to consist entirely of grey rock and gravel—the blackenedgrass finishing abruptly at the rim—so that the only living thingvisible,aside from thedragonherself,wasa solitaryhawthornbushsproutingincongruouslythroughthestonenearthecentreofthepit’sbelly.

As for the dragon, it was hardly clear at first shewas alive. Herposture—prone, head twisted to one side, limbs outspread—mighteasilyhaveresultedfromhercorpsebeinghurledintothepitfromaheight.Infactittookamomenttoascertainthiswasadragonatall:she was so emaciated she looked more some worm-like reptileaccustomed towater thathadmistakenly comeagroundandwas inthe process of dehydrating. Her skin, which should have appearedoiled and of a colour not unlike bronze, was instead a yellowingwhite, reminiscent of theunderside of certain fish.The remnants ofherwingsweresaggingfoldsofskinthatacarelessglancemighthavetaken for dead leaves accumulated to either side of her. The headbeingturnedagainstthegreypebbles,Axlcouldseeonlytheoneeye,whichwashoodedinthemannerofaturtle’s,andwhichopenedandclosed lethargically according to some internal rhythm. Thismovement, and the faintest rise and fall along the creature’sbackbone,weretheonlyindicatorsthatQuerigwasstillalive.

“Can this really be her, Axl?” Beatrice said quietly. “This poorcreaturenomorethanafleshythread?”

“Yet look there, mistress,” Gawain’s voice said behind them. “Solongasshe’sbreathleft,shedoesherduty.”

“Isshesickorperhapsalreadypoisoned?”askedAxl.

“Shesimplygrowsold,sir,asweallmustdo.Butshestillbreathes,andsoMerlin’sworklingers.”

“Now a little of this comes back to me,” Axl said. “I rememberMerlin’sworkhereanddarkitwastoo.”

“Dark, sir?” said Gawain. “Why dark? It was the onlyway. Evenbefore that battle was properly won, I rode out with four goodcomradestotamethissamecreature, inthosedaysbothmightyandangry, soMerlin could place this great spell on her breath. A darkman he may have been, but in this he did God’s will, not onlyArthur’s. Without this she-dragon’s breath, would peace ever have

come? Look how we live now, sir! Old foes as cousins, village byvillage.MasterWistan, you fall silent before this sight. I ask again.Willyounotleavethispoorcreaturetoliveoutherlife?Herbreathisn’twhatitwas,yetholdsthemagicevennow.Think,sir,oncethatbreathshouldcease,whatmightbeawokenacrossthislandevenaftertheseyears!Yes,weslaughteredplenty,Iadmitit,caringnotwhowasstrong and who weak. God may not have smiled at us, but wecleansedthelandofwar.Leavethisplace,sir,Ibegyou.Wemaypraytodifferentgods,yetsurelyyourswillblessthisdragonasdoesmine.”

Wistanturnedawayfromthepittolookattheoldknight.

“What kind of god is it, sir, wishes wrongs to go forgotten andunpunished?”

“Youaskitwell,MasterWistan,andIknowmygodlooksuneasilyonourdeedsofthatday.Yetit’slongpastandtheboneslieshelteredbeneathapleasantgreencarpet.Theyoungknownothingofthem.Ibegyouleavethisplace,andletQuerigdoherworkawhilelonger.Anotherseasonortwo,that’sthemostshe’ll last.Yeteventhatmaybelongenoughforoldwoundstohealforever,andaneternalpeaceto hold amongus. Lookhow she clings to life, sir! Bemerciful andleavethisplace.Leavethiscountrytorestinforgetfulness.”

“Foolishness,sir.Howcanoldwoundshealwhilemaggotslingersorichly?Orapeacehold foreverbuiltonslaughterandamagician’strickery? I see how devoutly you wish it, for your old horrors tocrumbleasdust.Yettheyawaitinthesoilaswhitebonesformentouncover. Sir Gawain,my answer’s unchanged. Imust go down intothispit.”

SirGawainnoddedgravely.“Iunderstand,sir.”

“ThenImustaskyouinturn,sirknight.Willyouleavethisplacetomeandreturnnowtoyourfineoldstallionawaitsyoubelow?”

“YouknowIcannot,MasterWistan.”

“It’sasIthought.Wellthen.”

Wistan came past Axl and Beatrice, and down the rough-hewnsteps.Whenhewasoncemoreat the footof themound,he lookedaround him and said, in a quite new voice: “Sir Gawain, this earthlooks curious here. Can it be the she-dragon, in hermore vigorousdays,blasteditthisway?Ordoeslightningstrikehereoftentoburn

thegroundbeforenewgrassesreturn?”

Gawain,whohadfollowedhimdownthemound,alsocameoffthesteps,andforamomentthetwoofthemstrolledaboutrandomlylikecompanionsponderingatwhichspottopitchtheirtent.

“It’ssomethingalwayspuzzledmetoo,MasterWistan,”Gawainwassaying. “For even when younger, she remained above, and I don’tsuppose it’sQuerigmadethisblastedground.Perhaps itwasalwaysthus,evenwhenwe firstbroughtherhereand loweredher intoherlair.” Gawain tapped his heel experimentally on the soil. “A goodfloor,sir,nevertheless.”

“Indeed.”Wistan,hisbacktoGawain,wasalsotestingthegroundwithhisfoot.

“Thoughperhapsalittleshortinwidth?”remarkedtheknight.“Seehowthatedgerollsoverthecliffside.Amanwhofellherewouldrestonfriendlyearth,sureenough,yethisbloodmayrunswiftlythroughtheseburntgrassesandovertheside.Idon’tspeakforyou,sir,butI’llnot fancy my insides dripping over the cliff like a gull’s whitedroppings!”

Theybothlaughed,thenWistansaid:

“Aneedlessworry,sir.Seehowthegroundliftsslightlybeforethecliff there. As for the opposite edge, it’s too far the other way andplentyofthirstysoilfirst.”

“That’s well observed. Well, then, it’s no bad spot!” Sir GawainlookedupatAxlandBeatrice,whowerestillupontheledge,thoughnowwith their backs to the pit. “Master Axl,” he called cheerfully,“youwere always the great one for diplomacy. Do you care to useyourfineeloquencenowtoletusleavethisplaceasfriends?”

“I’m sorry, Sir Gawain. You’ve shown us much kindness and wethankyouforit.Yetwe’renowheretoseetheendofQuerig,andifyou’lldefendher,there’snothingIormywifecansayonyourside.Ourwill’swithMasterWistaninthismatter.”

“I see it, sir.Then letmeaskat least thisofyou. Idon’t fear thisfellowbeforeme.YetifIshouldbetheonetofall,willyoutakemygoodHoracebackdownthismountain?He’llwelcomeapairofgoodBritonsonhisback.Youmaythinkhegrumbles,butyou’llnotbetoomuch for him. Takemy dearHorace far away fromhere andwhen

you’venomoreuseofhim,findhimafinegreenmeadowwherehemayeattohisheart’scontentandthinkofolddays.Willyoudothisforme,friends?”

“We’lldoitgladly,sir,andyourhorsewillbethesavingofustoo,forit’saharshjourneydownthesehills.”

“Onthatpoint,sir.”Gawainhadnowcomerighttothefootofthemound.“Iurgedyouoncebeforetousetheriver,anddosoagain.LetHorace take you down these slopes, but once you meet the river,searchforaboattotakeyoueast.There’stinandcoinsinthesaddletobuyyourpassage.”

“Wethankyou,sir.Yourgenerositymovesus.”

“ButSirGawain,”Beatricesaid.“Ifyourhorsetakesthetwoofus,thenhow’syourfallenbodytobecarriedfromthismountain?Inyourkindnessyouneglectyourowncorpse.Andwe’dbesorrytoburyyouinsolonelyaspotasthis.”

For an instant, the old knight’s features became solemn, almostsorrowful. Then they creased into a smile, and he said: “Now,mistress.Let’snotdiscussburialplanswhile I still expect toemergevictorious! In any case, thismountain’s no less lonely a spot tomenowthananyother,andI’dfearthesightsmyghostmustwitnessonlowergroundshouldthiscontestgoanotherway.Sonomoretalkofcorpses, madam!MasterWistan, have you anything to ask of thesefriendsshouldfortunenotgoyourway?”

“Likeyou,sir,Iprefernottothinkofdefeat.Yetonlyamightyfoolwillbelieveyouanythingotherthanaformidablefoe,nomatteryouryears.SoItoowillburdenthisgoodcouplewitharequest.IfI’mnomore,pleaseseetoitMasterEdwinreachesakindvillage,andlethimknowIconsideredhimtheworthiestofapprentices.”

“We’ll do so, sir,” Axl said. “We’ll seek the best for him, eventhoughthewoundhecarriesmakeshisfutureadarkone.”

“That’swellsaid.NowI’mremindedImustdoevenmoretosurvivethismeeting.Well,SirGawain,shallwegotoit?”

“Yetonemorerequest,”saidtheoldknight,“andthisonetoyou,MasterWistan. Iraisethematterwithembarrassment, for it toucheswhat we discussed with pleasure a moment ago. I mean, sir, thequestionofdrawingthesword.Withmyheavyyears,Ifindittakesa

foolishly long time to pull this oldweapon out of its sheath. If youand I facedeachother, swordsundrawn,my fear is I’dprovideyouwith feeble entertainment, knowing how fast you draw.Why, sir, Imight stillbehobblingabout,mutteringsmallcursesand tuggingatthis iron with one grip then another even as you take the air,wonderingiftocutoffmyheadorelsesinganodewhilewaiting!Yetifweweretoagreetodrawourswordsinourowntime…Whythisembarrassesmegreatly,sir!”

“Notanotherwordonit,SirGawain.Ineverthinkwellofawarriorwho leans on the speedy draw of a blade to take advantage of hisopponent. So let’s meet with swords ready drawn, just as yousuggest.”

“Ithankyou,sir.Andinreturn,thoughIseeyourarmstrapped,Ivownottoseekanyspecialadvantageofit.”

“I’mgrateful,sir,thoughthisinjury’satrivialone.”

“Wellthen,sir.Withyourpermission.”

Theoldknightdrewhissword—indeeditseemedtotakesometime—andplacedthepointintotheground,justashehaddoneearlieratthegiant’scairn.Butinsteadofleaningonit,hestoodthereregardinghisweaponupanddownwithamixtureofwearinessandaffection.Then he took the sword in both hands and raised it—andGawain’sposturetookonanunmistakablegrandeur.

“I’llturnawaynow,Axl,”Beatricesaid.“Tellmewhenit’sfinished,andletitnotbelongorunclean.”

Atfirstbothmenheldtheirswordspointingdownwards,soasnotto exhaust their arms. From his vantage point, Axl could see theirpositions clearly: at most five strides apart, Wistan’s body angledslightly to the left away from his opponent’s. They held thesepositionsforatime,thenWistanmovedthreeslowstepstohisright,so that to all appearances, his outside shoulder was no longerprotected by his sword. But to take advantage, Gawainwould havehadtoclosethegapveryrapidly,andAxlwashardlysurprisedwhenthe knight, gazing accusingly at the warrior, himself moved to therightwith deliberate strides.Wistanmeanwhile changed the grip ofbothhishandsonhissword,andAxlcouldnotbesureGawainhadnoticed the change—Wistan’s body possibly obscuring the knight’sview.ButnowGawaintoowaschanginghishold,lettingthesword’s

weightfallfromtherightarmtotheleft.Thenthetwomenbecamefixed in theirnewpositions,and toan innocent spectator, theymayhave looked, in relation to one another, practicallyunchanged frombefore.YetAxl could sense that thesenewpositionshadadifferentsignificance. It had been a long time since he had had to considercombatinsuchdetail,andthereremainedafrustratingsensethathewasfailingtoseehalfofwhatwasunfoldingbeforehim.Butheknewsomehow the contest had reached a critical point; that things couldnot be held like this for long without one or the other combatantbeingforcedtocommithimself.

Evenso,hewastakenabackbythesuddennesswithwhichGawainandWistanmet.Itwasasiftheyhadrespondedtoasignal:thespacebetween themvanished, and the twowere suddenly locked in tenseembrace. It happened so quickly it appeared to Axl the men hadabandoned their swords and were now holding one another in acomplicatedandmutualarmlock.Astheydidso,theyrotatedalittle,like dancers, and Axl could then see that their two blades, perhapsbecause of the huge impact of their coming together, had becomemeldedasone.Bothmen,mortifiedbythisturnofevents,werenowdoingtheirbesttoprisetheweaponsapart.Butthiswasnoeasytask,andtheoldknight’sfeatureswerecontortedwiththeeffort.Wistan’sface,forthemoment,wasnotvisible,butAxlcouldseethewarrior’sneckandshouldersshakingashetoodidallhecouldtoreversethecalamity.But theireffortswere invain:witheachmoment, the twoswords seemed to fasten more thoroughly, and surely there wasnothing for it but to abandon the weapons and start the contestafresh.Neitherman,though,appearedwillingtogiveup,evenastheeffortthreatenedtodrainthemoftheirstrength.Thensomethinggaveandthebladescameapart.Astheydidso,somedarkgrain—perhapsthesubstancethathadcausedthebladestofastentogetherinthefirstplace—flew up into the air between them. Gawain, with a look ofastonishedrelief,reeledhalfwayroundandsanktooneknee.Wistan,forhispart,hadbeencarriedbythemomentumintoturninganearcircle, and had come to a halt pointing his now liberated swordtowards the clouds beyond the cliff, his back fully turned to theknight.

“Godprotecthim,”Beatrice saidbesidehim, andAxl realised shehad been watching all the while. When he looked down again,Gawainhadloweredhisotherkneetotheground.Thenthetallfigure

of the knight fell slowly, twistingly, onto the dark grass. There hestruggled amoment, like aman inhis sleep trying tomakehimselfmore comfortable, and when his face was turned to the sky, eventhoughhislegswerestillfoldeduntidilybeneathhim,Gawainseemedcontent.AsWistanapproachedwithaconcernedstride,theoldknightappearedtosaysomething,butAxlwastoofartohear.Thewarriorremained standingoverhis opponent for some time, his swordheldforgottenathisside,andAxlcouldseedarkdropsfallingfromthetipofthebladeontothesoil.

Beatrice pressed herself against him. “He was the she-dragon’sdefender,”shesaid,“yetshoweduskindness.Whoknowswherewe’dbenowwithouthim,Axl,andI’msorrytoseehimfallen.”

He pressed Beatrice close to him. Then releasing her, he climbeddownalittlewaytowherehecouldseebetterGawain’sbodylyingonthe earth. Wistan had been correct: the blood had flowed only towhere the ground rose in a kind of lip at the cliff’s edge, andwaspooling there with no danger of spilling over. The sight caused amelancholytosweepoverhim,butalso—thoughitwasadistantandvagueone—thefeelingthatsomegreatangerwithinhimhadatlonglastbeenanswered.

“Bravo,sir,”Axlcalleddown.“Nowthere’snothingstandsbetweenyouandtheshe-dragon.”

Wistan, who had all the while been staring down at the fallenknight,nowcameslowly,somewhatgiddily,tothefootofthemound,andwhenhelookedupappearedtobeinsomethingofadream.

“I learned longago,”hesaid,“not to fearDeathas I fought.Yet IthoughtIheardhissofttreadbehindmeasIfacedthisknight.Longinyears,yethewasclosetogettingthebetterofme.”

Thewarriorseemedthentonoticetheswordstillinhishand,andmade as though to thrust it into the soft earth at the foot of themound.Butatthelastmomenthestoppedhimself,thebladealmostat thesoil,andstraightening, said:“Whyclean this swordyet?Whynotletthisknight’sbloodminglewiththeshe-dragon’s?”

He cameup the side of themound, his gait still somewhat like adrunkard’s.Brushingpastthem,heleantoverarockandgazeddownintothepit,hisshouldersmovingwitheachbreath.

“MasterWistan,”Beatricesaidgently.“We’renowimpatienttoseeyouslayQuerig.Butwillyouburythepoorknightafter?Myhusbandhere’s weary and must save his strength for what remains of ourjourney.”

“HewasakinofthehatedArthur,”Wistansaid,turningtoher,“yetI’llnotleavehimtothecrows.Restassured,mistress,I’llseetohim,andmayevenlayhimdowninthispit,besidethecreaturehesolongdefended.”

“Then hurry, sir,” Beatrice said, “and finish the task. For thoughshe’sfeeble,we’llnotbeeasytillweknowshe’sslain.”

ButWistanseemednolongertohearher,forhewasnowgazingatAxlwithafarawayexpression.

“Areyouwell,sir?”Axlaskedeventually.

“MasterAxl,”thewarriorsaid,“wemaynotmeetagain.Soletmeaskonelasttime.CouldyoubethatgentleBritonfrommyboyhoodwhooncemovedlikeawiseprincethroughourvillage,makingmendream of ways to keep innocents beyond the reach of war? If youhavearemembranceofit,Iaskyoutoconfideinmebeforewepart.”

“IfIwasthatman,sir,Iseehimtodayonlythroughthehazeofthiscreature’s breath, and he looks a fool and a dreamer, yet one whomeant well, and suffered to see solemn oaths undone in cruelslaughter. There were others spread the treaty through the Saxonvillages, but ifmy face stirs something in you,why suppose it wasanother’s?”

“I thought itwhenwe firstmet, sir, but couldn’t be sure. I thankyouforyourfrankness.”

“Thenspeakfranklytomeinturn,forit’sathingshiftswithinmesinceourmeetingyesterday,andperhaps,intruth,forfarlonger.Thisman you remember, MasterWistan. Is he one of whom you wouldseekvengeance?”

“Whatareyousaying,husband?”Beatricepushedforward,placingherself between Axl and the warrior. “What quarrel can there bebetween you and this warrior? If there is one, he’ll need strikemefirst.”

“Master Wistan talks of a skin I shed before we two ever met,

princess.OneIhopedhadlongcrumbledonaforgottenpath.”Thento Wistan: “What do you say, sir? Your sword still drips. If it’svengeance you crave, it’s a thing easily found, though I beg youprotectmydearwifewhotremblesforme.”

“ThatmanwasoneIonceadoredfromafar,andit’struethereweretimeslaterIwishedhimcruellypunishedforhispartinthebetrayal.YetIseetodayhemayhaveactedwithnocunning,wishingwellforhisownkinandoursalike.IfImethimagain,sir,I’dbidhimgoinpeace,eventhoughIknowpeacenowcan’tholdforlong.Butexcuseme,friends,andletmegodownandendmyerrand.”

Down in the pit, neither the dragon’s position nor posture hadchanged:ifhersenseswerewarningheroftheproximityofstrangers—andofoneinparticularmakinghiswaydownthesteepsideofthepit—Queriggavenoindicationofit.Orcoulditbetheriseandfallofherspinehadbecomealittlemorepronounced?Andwasthereanewurgency in thehoodedeyeas it openedand shut?Axl couldnotbesure.Butashecontinuedtogazedownatthecreature,theideacametohimthatthehawthornbush—theonlyotherthingaliveinthepit—hadbecomeasourceofgreatcomfort toher,andthatevennow, inher mind’s eye, she was reaching for it. Axl realised the idea wasfanciful, yet themorehewatched, themore credible it seemed.Forhowwasitasolitarybushwasgrowinginaplacelikethis?Coulditnot be thatMerlinhimself had allowed it to growhere, so that thedragonwouldhaveacompanion?

Wistanwascontinuinghisdescent,hisswordstillunsheathed.Hisgazerarelystrayedfromthespotwherethecreaturelay,asifhehalfexpectedhertorisesuddenly,transformedintoaformidabledemon.Atonestageheslipped,anddughisswordintothegroundtoavoidslidingsomewaydownonhisbackside.Thisepisodesentstonesandgravelcascadingdowntheslope,butQuerigstillgavenoresponse.

Then Wistan was safely on the ground. He wiped his forehead,glanced up at Axl and Beatrice, then moved towards the dragon,stoppingseveralstridesaway.Hethenraisedhisswordandbegantoscrutinise the blade, apparently taken aback to discover it streakedwith blood. For several moments, Wistan remained like this, notmoving,sothatAxlwonderedifthestrangemoodthathadovertakenthewarrior since his victory hadmomentarilymade him forget hisreasonforenteringthepit.

But then with something of the unexpectedness that hadcharacterisedhiscontestwiththeoldknight,Wistansuddenlymovedforward. He did not run, but walked briskly, stepping over thedragon’s body without breaking stride, and hurried on as thoughanxioustoreachtheothersideofthepit.Buthisswordhaddescribedaswift, lowarc inpassing,andAxl sawthedragon’sheadspin intotheairandrollalittlewaybeforecomingtorestonthestonyground.Itdidnotremaintherelong,however,foritwassoonengulfedbytherich tide that first parted around it, then buoyed it up till it swamglidinglyacrossthefloorofthepit.Itcametoastopatthehawthorn,where it lodged, thethroatuptothesky.ThesightbroughtbacktoAxl theheadof themonsterdogGawainhad severed in the tunnel,and again a melancholy threatened to sweep over him. He madehimself lookaway from thedragon,andwatch instead the figureofWistan,whohadnotstoppedwalking.Thewarriorwasnowcirclingback,avoidingtheever-spreadingpool,andthenwithhisswordstillunsheathed,begantheclimboutofthepit.

“It’sdone,Axl,”Beatricesaid.

“It is, princess. Yet there’s still a question I wish to ask thiswarrior.”

Wistantookasurprisinglylongtimetoclimboutofthepit.Whenatlastheappearedbeforethemagain,helookedoverwhelmedandnotin the least triumphant. Without a word, he sat down on theblackened ground right on the rim of the pit, and at last thrust hissworddeep into the earth. Thenhe gazed emptily, not into thepit,butbeyond,atthecloudsandthepalehillsinthedistance.

After amoment, Beatricewent over to him and touched his armgently.“Wethankyou for thisdeed,MasterWistan,” shesaid.“Andthere’llbemanymoreacrossthe landwouldthankyouif theywerehere.Whylooksodespondent?”

“Despondent? No matter, I’ll regain my spirit soon, mistress. Yetjustat thismoment…”Wistan turnedaway fromBeatriceandoncemoregazedat theclouds.Thenhesaid:“PerhapsI’vebeentoo longamongyouBritons.Despised thecowardlyamongyou,admiredandlovedthebestofyou,andallfromatenderage.AndnowIsithere,shakingnotfromweariness,butattheverythoughtofwhatmyownhandshavedone.Imustsoonsteelmyheartorbeafrailwarriorfor

mykinginwhat’stocome.”

“Whatisthisyouspeakof,sir?”Beatriceasked.“Whatfurthertaskawaitsyounow?”

“It’s justiceandvengeanceawait,mistress.And they’ll soonhurrythisway,forbotharemuchdelayed.Yetnowthehour’salmostuponus,Ifindmyhearttrembleslikeamaid’s.ItcanonlybeI’vebeentoolongamongyou.”

“I didn’t fail to notice, sir,”Axl said, “your earlier remark tome.Yousaidyou’dwishmetogoinpeace,yet thatpeacecouldn’tholdmuch longer. I wondered then what you meant by it, even as youdescendedintothispit.Willyouexplainyourselftousnow?”

“I see you begin to understand, Master Axl. My king sent me todestroythisshe-dragonnotsimplytobuildamonumenttokinslainlong ago.Youbegin to see, sir, this dragondied tomake ready thewayforthecomingconquest.”

“Conquest,sir?”Axlmovedclosertohim.“Howcanthisbe,MasterWistan? Are your Saxon armies so swelled by your cousins fromoverseas?Orisitthatyourwarriorsaresofierceyoutalkofconquestinlandswellheldinpeace?”

“It’s true our armies are yet meagre in numbers, even in thefenlands.Yetlookacrossthiswholeland.Ineveryvalley,besideeveryriver,you’llnowfindSaxoncommunities,andeachwithstrongmenand growing boys. It’s from thesewe’ll swell our ranks even aswecomesweepingwestward.”

“Surelyyouspeakintheconfusionofyourvictory,MasterWistan,”Beatricesaid.“Howcanthisbe?Youseeyourselfhowinthesepartsit’s your kin andminemingle village by village.Who among themwouldturnonneighbourslovedsincechildhood?”

“Yetseeyourhusband’sface,mistress.HebeginstounderstandwhyIsithereasbeforealighttoofierceformygaze.”

“Rightenough,princess,thewarrior’swordsmakemetremble.Youand I longed for Querig’s end, thinking only of our own dearmemories. Yet who knows what old hatreds will loosen across thelandnow?WemusthopeGodyetfindsawaytopreservethebondsbetweenourpeoples,yet customand suspicionhavealwaysdividedus. Who knows what will come when quick-tongued men make

ancientgrievancesrhymewithfreshdesireforlandandconquest?”

“Howrighttofearit,sir,”Wistansaid.“Thegiant,oncewellburied,now stirs.When soonhe rises, as surely hewill, the friendly bondsbetween uswill prove as knots young girlsmakewith the stems ofsmallflowers.Menwillburntheirneighbours’housesbynight.Hangchildrenfromtreesatdawn.Theriverswillstinkwithcorpsesbloatedfromtheirdaysofvoyaging.Andevenas theymoveon,ourarmieswillgrowlarger,swollenbyangerandthirst forvengeance.ForyouBritons,it’llbeasaballoffirerollstowardsyou.You’llfleeorperish.Andcountrybycountry,thiswillbecomeanewland,aSaxonland,withnomoretraceofyourpeople’stimeherethanaflockortwoofsheepwanderingthehillsuntended.”

“Canheberight,Axl?Surelyhespeaksinafever?”

“Hemay yet bemistaken, princess, but this is no fever. The she-dragon’snomore,andArthur’s shadowwill fadewithher.”Then toWistan, he said: “I’m comforted at least, sir, to find you take nodelightinthesehorrorsyoupaint.”

“I’dtakedelightifIcould,MasterAxl,forit’llbevengeancejustlyserved.YetI’menfeebledbymyyearsamongyou,andtryasIwill,apartofmeturnsfromtheflamesofhatred.It’saweaknessshamesme,yetI’llsoonofferinmyplaceonetrainedbymyownhand,onewithawillfarcleanerthanmine.”

“YouspeakofMasterEdwin,sir?”

“Ido,and Idaresayhe’llbegrowingquicklymorecalmnowthedragon’s slain and her pull gone from him. That boy has a truewarrior’s spiritgivenonly toa few.Theresthe’ll learn fastenough,and I’ll train his heart well to admit no soft sentiments as haveinvadedmine.He’llshownomercyinourworkahead.”

“MasterWistan,”Beatricesaid,“Istilldon’tknowifyouspeakonlyinamadfever.ButmyhusbandandIgrowweak,andmustreturntolowergroundand shelter.Will you rememberyourpromise toburywellthegentleknight?”

“Ipromisetodoso,mistress,thoughIfearevennowthebirdsfindhim. Good friends, forewarned as you are, you’ve time enough toescape. Take the knight’s horse and ride fast from these parts. Seekyourson’svillageifyoumust,butlingertherenomorethanadayor

two,forwhoknowshowsoontheflameswillbelitbeforeourcomingarmies.Ifyoursonwillnothearyourwarnings,leavehimandfleeasfarwestasyoucan.Youmayyetkeepaheadoftheslaughter.Gonowandfindtheknight’shorse.AndshouldyoufindMasterEdwinmuchcalmed,his strange feverpassed,cuthimfreeandbidhimcomeupheretome.Afiercefuturenowopensbeforehim,andit’smywishheseesthisplace,thefallenknightandthebrokenshe-dragon,allbeforehisnextsteps.Besides,Irecallhowwellhedigsagravewithastraystoneortwo!Nowhurryaway,gentlefriends,andfarewell.”

ChapterSixteen

ForsometimenowthegoathadbeentramplingthegrassverynearEdwin’shead.Whydidtheanimalhavetocomesoclose?Theymightbe tied to the same post, but surely therewas territory enough foreachofthem.

Hemighthavegotupandchasedthegoataway,butEdwinfelttootired. The exhaustion had swept over him a little earlier, and withsuch intensity that he had fallen forward onto the ground, themountaingrasspressingagainsthischeek.Hehadreachedtheedgesofsleep,butthenhadbeenstartledbacktowakefulnessbythesuddenconvictionthathismotherhadgone.Hehadnotmoved,andhadkepthiseyesclosed,buthehadmutteredaloudintotheground:“Mother.We’recoming.Onlyalittlelongernow.”

There had been no answer, and he had felt a great emptinessopeningwithinhim. Since then, driftingbetween sleep andwaking,he had several more times called to her, to be answered only bysilence.Andnowthegoatwaschewingthegrassnexttohisear.

“Forgiveme,mother,”hesaidsoftlyintotheearth.“Theytiedme.Icouldn’tgetfree.”

There were voices above him. Only then did it occur to him thefootsteps around him were not those of the goat. Someone wasuntyinghishands,andtheropewaspullingawayfromunderhim.Agentle hand raised his head, and he opened his eyes to see the oldwoman—MistressBeatrice—peeringdownathim.Herealisedhewasnolongertied,androsetohisfeet.

Oneofhiskneesachedbadly,butwhenagustofwindrockedhim,hewasabletokeephisbalance.Helookedabouthim:therewasthegreysky,therisingland,therocksuponthecrestofthenexthill.Notlongago,thoserockshadmeanteverythingtohim,butnowshewasgone,ofthattherewasnodoubt.Andherememberedsomethingthewarriorhadsaid:thatwhenitwastoolateforrescue,itwasstillearlyenoughforrevenge.Ifthatweretrue,thosewhohadtakenhismotherwouldpayaterribleprice.

Therewasno signofWistan. Itwas just theold couplehere, butEdwin felt comforted by their presence. They were standing beforehim,gazingathimwithconcern,andthesightofthekindlyMistressBeatricemadehimfeelsuddenlyclosetotears.ButEdwinrealisedshewassayingsomething—somethingaboutWistan—andmadeanefforttolisten.

HerSaxonwashard tounderstand,and thewindseemed tocarryherwordsaway.Intheendhecutacrosshertoask:“IsMasterWistanfallen?”

Shefellsilent,butdidnotreply.Onlywhenherepeatedhimself,inavoicethatroseabovethewind,didMistressBeatriceshakeherheademphaticallyandsay:

“Don’tyouhearme,MasterEdwin?ItellyouMasterWistaniswellandawaitsyouatthetopofthatpath.”

Thenewsfilledhimwithrelief,andhebrokeintoarun,butthenagiddiness quickly overtook him, obliging him to stop before he hadevenreachedthepath.Hesteadiedhimself, thenglancingback,sawtheoldcouplehadtakenafewsteps inhisdirection.Edwinnoticednowhowfrailtheyseemed.Theretheywerestandingtogetherinthewind,eachleaningagainsttheother,lookingfarolderthanwhenhehad first met them. Did they have strength left to descend themountainside? But now they were gazing at him with an oddexpression, and behind them, the goat too had ceased its restlessactivity to stare at him. A strange thought went through Edwin’smind,thathewasatthatmomentcoveredheadtotoeinblood,andthiswaswhyhehadbecometheobjectofsuchscrutiny.Butwhenheglanceddown, thoughhisclothesweremarkedwithmudandgrass,hesawnothingunusual.

Theoldmansuddenlycalledoutsomething. Itwas intheBritons’tongueandEdwincouldnotunderstand.Wasitawarning?Arequest?ThenMistressBeatrice’svoicecamethroughthewind.

“Master Edwin! We both beg this of you. In the days to come,rememberus.Rememberusandthisfriendshipwhenyouwerestillaboy.”

As he heard this, something else came back to Edwin: a promisemadetothewarrior;adutytohateallBritons.ButsurelyWistanhadnotmeant to include this gentle couple. And now herewasMaster

Axl, raisingahanduncertainly into theair.Was it in farewelloranattempttodetainhim?

Edwinturnedaway,andthistimewhenheran,evenwiththewindpushing from one side, his body did not fail him. His mother wasgone,mostlikelygonebeyondallretrieving,butthewarriorwaswelland waiting for him. He continued to run, even as the path grewsteeperandtheacheinhiskneegrewworse.

ChapterSeventeen

They came riding through the rainstorm as I sheltered under thepines.Noweatherforapairsolonginyearsandthesagginghorsenoless weary. Does the old man fear for the animal’s heart with onemore step?Why else halt in themudwith twenty paces still to thenearesttree?Yetthehorsestandswithpatienceunderthedownpouras the old man lifts her down. Could they perform the task moreslowlyweretheypaintedfiguresinapicture?“Come,friends,”Icalltothem.“Hurryandtakeshelter.”

Neitherhearsme.Perhapsit’sthehissoftherainorisittheirageseals their ears? I call again,andnow theoldman looksabouthimandseesmeatlast.Finallysheslidesdownintohisarms,andthoughshe’sbutathinsparrow,Iseehe’sbarelystrengthlefttoholdher.SoI leavemyshelter,andtheoldmanturns inalarmtoseemesplashacrossthegrass.Butheacceptsmyassistance,forwasn’theabouttosinktotheearth,hisgoodwife’sarmsstillcirclinghisneck?Itakeherfromhimandhurryback to the trees, shenoburden tomeatall. Iheartheoldmanpantingatmyheels.Perhapshefearsforhiswifeinthearmsofastranger.SoIsetherdownwithcare,toshowImeanthemonlyfriendship.Iplaceherheadagainstthesoftbark,andwellshelteredabove,evenifadroportwostillfallsaroundher.

The old man crouches beside her, speaking words ofencouragement, and I move away, not wishing to intrude on theirintimacy.Istandagainatmyoldspotwherethetreesmeettheopenground, and watch the rain sweep across the moorland. Who canblamemeshelteringfromrainlikethis?Iwilleasilymakeuptimeonmy journey, andbe all the better for theweeks of unbroken toil tocome.Ihearthemtalkatmyback,yetwhatamItodo?Stepintotheraintobebeyondtheirmurmurings?

“It’sjustthefevertalking,princess.”

“No,no,Axl,”shesays.“Itcomesbacktome,somethingmore.Howdidweeverforget?Oursonlivesonanisland.Anislandseenfromashelteredcove,andsurelynearusnow.”

“Howcanthatbe,princess?”

“Don’tyouhearit,Axl?Ihearitevennow.Isn’tthattheseanearus?”

“Justtherain,princess.Ormaybeariver.”

“Weforgotit,Axl,withthemistoverus,butnowitstartstoclear.There’san islandnear,andour sonwaits there.Axl,don’tyouhearthesea?”

“Justyourfever,princess.We’llfindsheltersoonandyou’llbefineagain.”

“Askthisstranger,Axl.Heknowsthiscountrybetterthanus.Askifthere’snotacovenearby.”

“He’s just a kindman came to our aid, princess.Why should hehaveanyspecialwisdomofsuchthings?”

“Askhim,Axl.Whatharmcanitdo?”

Do I remain silent?What am I to do? I turn and say, “The goodlady’s right, sir.”Theoldman starts, and there’s fear inhis eyes.Apartofmewishestofallsilentagain;toturnawayandwatchtheoldhorsestandingsteadfastintherain.YetnowI’vespokenImustgoon.Ipointbeyondthespotwheretheyhuddle.

“Apath there, between those trees, leadsdown to a cove suchasthe one the lady speaks of. For the most part covered in shingle,thoughwhenthetide’slow,asitwillbenow,thepebblesgivewaytosand.Andasyousay,goodlady.There’sanislandalittlewayouttosea.”

They watch me in silence, she with a weary happiness, he withmountingfear.Willtheynotsayanything?Dotheyexpectmetotellmore?

“I’vewatchedthesky,” I say.“This rainwillclearshortlyandtheeveningwillbeafineone.Soifyouwishmetorowyouovertotheisland,I’dbepleasedtodoso.”

“Didn’tItellyou,Axl!”

“Are you then a boatman, sir?” the oldman asks solemnly. “Andcanitbewemetsomewherebefore?”

“I’m a boatman, sure enough,” I tell him. “It’s more than I can

rememberifwemetbefore,forI’mobligedtoferrysomanyandforlonghourseachday.”

Theoldmanlooksmorefearfulthanever,holdshiswifecloseashecrouchesbesideher.Judgingitbesttochangethetopic,Isay:

“Your horse still stands in the rain. Even though he’s untetheredandnothingtostophimseekingthenearbytrees.”

“He’sanoldbattlehorse,sir.”Theoldman,happytoleavetalkofthecove,speakswithquickeagerness.“Hekeepshisdiscipline,eventhoughhismaster’snomore.Wemustseetohimintime,thewaywelately promised his brave owner. But just now Iworry formy dearwife.Doyouknowwherewemayfindshelter,sir,andafiretowarmher?”

IcannotlieandIhavemyduty.“Asithappens,”Ireply,“there’sasmall shelter found on this very cove. It’s one I stitched myself, asimpleroofof twigsandrags. I lefta fire smoulderingbeside it thislasthourandit’llnotbebeyondreviving.”

Hehesitates,searchingmyfacecarefully.Theoldwoman’seyesarenowclosedandherheadrestsonhisshoulder.Hesays,“Boatman,mywife spoke justnow ina fever.We’venoneedof islands.Betterweshelter beneath these friendly trees till the rain’s gone, then we’lljourneyonourway.”

“Axl, what are you saying?” the woman says, opening her eyes.“Hasn’toursonwaitedlongenough?Letthisgoodboatmanleadustothecove.”

Theoldmanhesitatesstill,butfeelshiswifeshiverinhisarms,andhiseyeslooktomewithdesperateentreaty.

“Ifyouwish,”Isay,“I’llcarrythegoodladyandmakethewaytothecoveeasier.”

“I’llcarryhermyself,sir,”hesays,likeonedefeatedyetdefiant.“Ifshe’snotabletogobyherownfeet,thenshe’llgoinmyarms.”

Whattosaytothis,thehusbandnowalmostasweakasthewife?

“Thecove’snotfar,”Isaygently.“Butthewaydown’ssteep,withpitsandtwistedroots.Pleaseallowmetocarryher,sir.It’sthesafestthing.You’llwalkclosebesideuswherethewayallows.Come,whentheraineases,we’llhurrydown,forseehowthegoodladytrembles

forcold.”

The rain stoppedbefore longand I carriedherdown thehillpath,theoldmanstumblingbehind,andwhenwecameouttothebeach,thedarkcloudswereswepttoonesideoftheskyasifbyanimpatienthand.The reddishhuesof evening all across the shore, a foggy sunfallingtowardsthesea,andmyboatrockingout inthewaves.Withanothershowofgentleness, I laidherdownundertherudecoverofdriedskinsandbranches,placingherheadagainstacushionofmossyrock.HecomesfussingaboutherevenbeforeIcanstepaway.

“See there,” I say,andcrouchbeside theslumbering fire.“There’stheisland.”

Onlyasmall turnof theheadgives thewomanaviewof thesea,and she lets out a soft cry. Hemust turn on the hard pebbles, andstaresbewilderedhereandthereatthewaves.

“There,friend,”Isay.“Lookthere.Midwaybetweentheshoreandthehorizon.”

“Myeyesaren’tsogood,”hesays.“Butyes,IbelieveIseeitnow.Arethosethetopsoftrees?Orjaggedrocks?”

“They’ll be trees, friend, for it’s a gentle place.” I say this all thewhilebreakingtwigsandattendingthefire.TheybothlookouttotheislandandIkneeldown,thepebblesharshagainstmybones,toblowattheembers.Thismanandwoman,didtheynotcomeoftheirownwill?Letthemdecidetheirownpaths,Isaytomyself.

“Doyoufeelthewarmthnow,princess?”hecries.“You’llsoonbeyourselfagain.”

“Iseetheisland,Axl,”shesays,andhowcanIbutintrudeuponthisintimacy? “That’s where our son awaits. So strange how we everforgotsuchathing.”

Hemumbles a reply and I see he grows troubled again. “Surely,princess,”hesays,“we’renotyetdecided.Dowereallywanttocrosstosuchaplace?Besides,we’venowaytopayforourpassage,forweleftthetinandcoinswiththehorse.”

AmItoremainsilent?“That’snomatter,friends,”Isay.“I’llgladlytakewhat’sowedlaterfromthesaddle.Thatsteedwon’twanderfar.”Somemaycallthiscunning,butIspokefromsimplecharity,knowing

well I would never come upon the horse again. They talked on ingentlevoices,andIkeptmybacktothem,attendingtothefire.Fordo Iwish to intrudeon them?Yet she liftshervoice,andonemoresteadythanbefore.

“Boatman,” she says. “There’s a tale I once heard, perhaps as asmallchild.Ofanislandfullofgentlewoodsandstreams,yetalsoaplaceof strangequalities.Manycross to it, yet foreachwhodwellsthere, it’sas ifhewalkstheislandalone,hisneighboursunseenandunheard.Canthisbetrueoftheislandnowbeforeus,sir?”

Igoonbreakingtwigsandplacingthemcarefullyabouttheflame.“Good lady, Iknowof several islands to fit suchadescription.Whoknowsifthisoneisamongthem?”

An evasive answer, and one to give her boldness. “I also heard,boatman,” she says, “there are timeswhen these strange conditionscease to prevail. Of special dispensations granted certain travellers.DidIhearright,sir?”

“Dear lady,” I say, “I’m justahumbleboatman. It’snot forme totalkof suchmatters.But since there’snooneelsehere, letmeofferthis. I’veheard it said theremaybe certain times,perhapsduringastormsuchas theone justpassed,oronasummer’snightwhenthemoon’sfull,anislandermaygetasenseofothersmovingbesidehiminthewind.Thismaybewhatyouonceheard,goodlady.”

“No,boatman,”shesays,“itwassomethingmore.Ihearditsaidaman and woman, after a lifetime shared, and with a bond of loveunusually strong,may travel to the islandwith no need to roam itapart.Iheardtheymayenjoythepleasuresofoneanother’scompany,astheydidthroughalltheyearsbefore.CouldthisbeatruethingIheard,boatman?”

“I’ll say it again, good lady. I’m just a boatman, charged withferryingoverthosewhowishtocrossthewater. IcanspeakonlyofwhatIobserveinmydailytoil.”

“Yetthere’snooneherenowbutyoutoguideus,boatman.SoIaskthisofyou,sir.Ifyounowferrymyhusbandandme,canitbewe’llnotbeparted,butfreetowalktheislandarminarmthewaywegonow?”

“Very well, good lady. I’ll speak to you frankly. You and your

husbandare apair asweboatmen rarely set eyesupon. I sawyourunusualdevotiontoeachotherevenasyoucameridingthroughtherain.So there’snoquestionbut thatyou’llbepermitted todwellontheislandtogether.Beassuredonthatpoint.”

“What you say fills me with happiness, boatman,” she says, andappears to sag in relief. Then she says, “Andwho knows?During astorm, or on a calmmoonlit night, Axl and Imay glimpse our soncloseby.Evenspeakwithhimawordortwo.”

The firenowburningsteadily I rise tomyfeet.“See there,” I say,pointingouttosea.“Theboatstirsintheshallows.ButIkeepmyoarhiddeninanearbycave,dippedinarockpoolwheretinyfishcircle.Friends,I’llgonowtofetchit,andwhileI’mgone,youmaytalkherebetween you, unhindered by my presence. Let’s have you come toyourdecisiononceand forall if this isavoyageyouwish tomake.NowI’llleaveyouamoment.”

Butshewillnotreleasemesoeasily.“Onewordmorebeforeyougo, boatman,” she says. “Tell us if when you return, before you’llconsenttoferryus,youintendtoquestionuseachinturn.ForIheardthiswas thewayamongboatmen, todiscover those rareones fit towalktheislandunseparated.”

Theybothgazeatme,theeveninglightupontheirfaces,andIseehisfilledwithsuspicion.Imeethereyes,nothis.

“Good lady,” I say, “I’m grateful for this reminder. Inmy haste Imay easily have neglectedwhat I’m bound by custom to do. It’s asyousay,yetinthiscaseonlyforthesakeoftradition.ForasIsaid,Isaw from the first how you were a pair tied by an extraordinarydevotion. Now excuse me, friends, for my time grows short. Haveyourdecisionformyreturn.”

So I left them then, andwalked across the evening shore till thewaves grew loud and the pebbles turned underfoot to wet sand.WheneverIlookedbackatthem,Isawthesamesight,ifeachtimealittlesmaller:thegreyoldman,crouchedinsolemnconferencebeforehiswoman.OfherIcouldseelittle,fortherocksheleantonhidallbuttheriseandfallofherhandasshespoke.Adevotedcouple,butIhadmyduty,andIwentontothecaveandtheoar.

WhenIcamebacktothem,theoaruponmyshoulder,Icouldseetheirdecisionintheireyesevenbeforehesaid,“Weaskyoutotake

ustotheisland,boatman.”

“Thenlet’shastentotheboat,forI’malreadymuchdelayed,”Isay,andmoveawayasthoughtohurrytowardsthewaves.ButthenIturnback, saying, “Ah, but wait. We must first go through this foolishritual.Then,friends, letmeproposethis.Goodsir, ifyou’drisenowandwalka littlewayfromus.Onceyou’reoutofhearing, I’ll speakbriefly with your gentle wife. She needn’t stir fromwhere she sits.ThenintimeI’llcometoyouwhereveryoustandonthisbeach.We’llsoonbedoneandreturnheretofetchthisgoodladytotheboat.”

Hestaresatme,apartofhimnowlongingtotrustme.Hesaysatlast, “Very well, boatman, I’ll wander a moment about this shore.”Thentohiswoman,“We’llbepartedbutaninstant,princess.”

“There’s no concern,Axl,” she says. “I’mmuch restored, and safeunderthiskindman’sprotection.”

Awayhegoes,walkingslowlytotheeastofthecoveandthegreatshadowofthecliff.Thebirdsscatterbeforehim,butreturnquicklytopeckasbeforeat their seaweedandrock.He limps slightly,andhisbackbentlikeoneclosetodefeat,yetIseestillsomesmallfirewithinhim.

Thewomansitsbeforemelookingupwithasoftsmile.WhatamItoask?

“Don’tfearmyquestions,goodlady,”Isay.Iwouldwishnowforalongwallnearby,towhichtoturnmyfaceevenasIspeaktoher,butthere’sonlytheeveningbreeze,andthelowsunonmyface.Icrouchbeforeher,asIsawherhusbanddo,pullingmyrobeuptomyknees.

“I don’t fear your questions, boatman,” she says quietly. “For Iknow what I feel in my heart for him. Ask me what you will. Myanswerswillbehonest,yetproveonlyonething.”

Iaskaquestionortwo,theusualquestions,forhaveInotdonethisoften enough? Then every now and then, to encourage her and toshow I attend, I ask another. But there’s hardly the need, for shespeaks freely. She talks on, her eyes sometimes closing, her voicealwaysclearandsteady.AndIlistenwithcare,asismyduty,evenasmygazegoesacrossthecove,tothefigureofthetiredoldmanpacinganxiouslyamongthesmallrocks.

Then remembering thework awaitingme elsewhere, I break into

herrecollections,saying,“Ithankyou,goodlady.Letmenowhurrytoyourgoodhusband.”

Surelyhebeginstotrustmenow,forwhyelsewandersofarfromhis wife? He hears my footsteps and turns as from a dream. Theevening glow upon him, and I see his face no longer filled withsuspicion,butadeepsorrow,andsmalltearsinhiseyes.

“Howgoesit,sir?”heasksquietly.

“Apleasuretolistentoyourgoodlady,”Ireply,matchingmyvoicetohissofttones,thoughthewindgrowsunruly.“Butnow,friend,let’sbebrief,sowecanbeonourway.”

“Askwhatyouwill,sir.”

“Ihavenosearchingquestion,friend.Butyourgoodwifejustnowrecalledaday the twoofyoucarriedeggsback fromamarket.Shesaidsheheldtheminabasketbeforeher,andyouwalkedbesideher,peeringintothebasketallthewayforfearherstepswouldinjuretheeggs.Sherecalledthetimewithhappiness.”

“IthinkIdotoo,boatman,”hesays,andlooksatmewithasmile.“I was anxious for the eggs because she’d stumbled on a previouserrand, breaking one or two. A small walk, but we were wellcontentedthatday.”

“It’s as she remembers it,” I say. “Well then, let’swaste nomoretime,forthistalkwasonlytosatisfycustom.Let’sgofetchthegoodladyandcarryhertotheboat.”

And Ibegin to lead thewayback to the shelterandhiswife,butnowhegoesatadrearypace,slowingmewithhim.

“Don’tbeafraidof thosewaves, friend,” I say, thinkinghere’s thesource of hisworry. “The estuary’swell protected andnoharm cancomebetweenhereandtheisland.”

“I’llreadilytrustyourjudgement,boatman.”

“Friend,asithappens,”Isay,forwhynotfillthisslowjourneywithalittlemoretalk?“TherewasaquestionImighthaveaskedjustnowhadwemoretime.Sincewewalktogetherthisway,wouldyoumindmytellingyouwhatitwas?”

“Notatall,boatman.”

“Iwassimplygoingtoask,wastheresomeremembrancefromyouryearstogetherstillbroughtyouparticularpain?That’sallitwas.”

“Dowestillspeakaspartofthequestioning,sir?”

“Ohno,”Isay.“That’soverandfinished.Iaskedthesameofyourgood wife earlier, so it was merely to satisfy my own curiosity.Remainsilentonit,friend,Itakenooffence.Lookthere.”Ipointtoarockwearepassing. “Thosearen’tmerebarnacles.Withmore time,I’d show how to prise them from the rockside to make a handysupper.I’veoftentoastedthemoverafire.”

“Boatman,” he says gravely, and his steps slow further still. “I’llanswer your question if you wish. I can’t be certain how sheanswered,forthere’smuchheldinsilenceevenbetweenthoselikeus.What’s more, until this day, a she-dragon’s breath polluted the air,robbingmemories both happy and dark. But the dragon’s slain andalreadymanythingsgrowclearerinmymind.Youaskforamemorybringsparticularpain.WhatelsecanIsay,boatman,thanit’sofourson, almost grownwhenwe last sawhim, butwho left us before abeardwasonhisface.Itwasaftersomequarrelandonlytoanearbyvillage,andIthoughtitamatterofdaysbeforehereturned.”

“Yourwifespokeofthesame,friend,”Itellhim.“Andshesaidshe’stoblameforhisleaving.”

“Ifsheconvictsherselfforthefirstpartofit,there’splentytolayatmydoorforthenext.Forit’struetherewasasmallmomentshewasunfaithfultome.Itmaybe,boatman,Ididsomethingtodrivehertothe arms of another. Or was it what I failed to say or do? It’s alldistantnow,likeabirdflownbyandbecomeaspeckinthesky.Butour son was witness to its bitterness, and at an age too old to befooledwithsoftwords,yettooyoungtoknowthemanystrangewaysofourhearts.Heleftvowingnevertoreturn,andwasstillawayfromuswhensheandIwerehappilyreunited.”

“This part your wife toldme. And how soon after came news ofyourgoodsontakenbytheplaguesweptthecountry.Myownparentswerelostinthatsameplague,friend,andIrememberitwell.Butwhyblame yourself for it? A plague sent byGod or the devil, butwhatfaultlieswithyouforit?”

“I forbade her to go to his grave, boatman. A cruel thing. Shewishedus togo together towhereherested,but Iwouldn’thave it.

Nowmanyyearshavepassedandit’sonlyafewdaysagowesetoffto find it, and by then the she-dragon’smist had robbed us of anyclearknowledgeofwhatwesought.”

“Ah,sothat’sit,”Isay.“Thatpartyourwifewasshytoreveal.Soitwasyoustoppedhervisitinghisgrave.”

“A cruel thing I did, sir. And a darker betrayal than the smallinfidelitycuckoldedmeamonthortwo.”

“Whatdidyouhopetogain,sir,preventingnotjustyourwifebutevenyourselfgrievingatyourson’srestingplace?”

“Gain?Therewasnothingtogain,boatman.Itwasjustfoolishnessand pride. Andwhatever else lurks in the depths of aman’s heart.Perhapsitwasacravingtopunish,sir.Ispokeandactedforgiveness,yetkept lockedthroughlongyearssomesmallchamber inmyheartthatyearnedforvengeance.ApettyandblackthingIdidher,andmysonalso.”

“Ithankyouforconfidingthis,friend,”Isaytohim.“Andperhapsit’saswell.Forthoughthistalkintrudesinnopartonmyduty,andwespeaknowastwocompanionspassingtheday,Iconfesstherewasbeforeasmallunease inmymind,a feelingI’dyet tohearall therewas.NowI’llbeabletorowyouwithacarefreecontentment.Buttellme,friend,whatisitmadeyoubreakyourresolveofsomanyyearsand come out at last on this journey?Was it something said?Or achangeofheartasunknowableasthetideandskybeforeus?”

“I’ve wondered myself, boatman. And I think now it’s no singlethingchangedmyheart,butitwasgraduallywonbackbytheyearssharedbetweenus.Thatmaybe all itwas, boatman.Awound thathealedslowly,buthealitdid.Fortherewasamorningnotlongago,thedawnbroughtwithitthefirstsignsofthisspring,andIwatchedmywife still asleep though the sun already lit our chamber. And Iknewthelastofthedarknesshadleftme.Sowecameonthisjourney,sir,andnowmywiferecallsoursoncrossingbeforeustothisisland,sohisburialplacemustbewithinitswoodsorperhapsonitsgentleshores. Boatman, I’ve spoken honestly to you, and I hope it doesn’tcastyourearlierjudgementofusindoubt.ForIsupposethere’ssomewouldhearmywordsandthinkourloveflawedandbroken.ButGodwillknowtheslowtreadofanoldcouple’s loveforeachother,andunderstandhowblackshadowsmakepartofitswhole.”

“Don’tworry, friend.WhatyoutoldmemerelyechoeswhatIsawwhen you and yourwife first came through the rain on thatwearysteed.Well, sir, nomore talk, forwho knows if another stormwillcomeourway.Let’shurrytoherandcarryhertotheboat.”

She sits asleep at the rock with a look of contentment, the firesmokingbesideher.

“I’ll carry her myself this time, boatman,” he says. “I feel mystrengthrestoredtome.”

Can I allow this? It willmakemy task no easier. “These pebblesmake hard walking, friend,” I say. “What will be the cost of yourstumblingasyoucarryher?I’mwellusedtothework,forshe’llnotbethefirsttoneedcarryingtoaboat.Youcanwalkbesideus,talkingtoherasyouwish.Letitbelikewhenshecarriedthoseeggsandyouwentanxiouslybesideher.”

The fear returns to his face. Yet he replies quietly, “Very well,boatman.Let’sdoasyousay.”

Hewalksatmyside,mutteringencouragement toher.Do I stridetooswiftly?Fornowhelagsbehind,andasIcarryherintotheseaIfeel his hand grasp desperately at my back. Yet this is no place toloiter,formyfeetmustdiscoverthequaywhereithidesbeneaththechillywater’ssurface.Istepontothestones,thelappingwavesgrowshallowagain,andIentertheboat,hardlytiltingthoughIcarryherinmyarms.Myrugsnearthesternwetfromtherain.Ikickawaythesoakedearlylayersandlayherdowngently.Ileavehersittingup,herheadjustbeneaththegunwale,andsearchthechestfordryblanketsagainsttheseawind.

IfeelhimclimbintotheboatevenasIwrapherandthefloorrockswithhistread.“Friend,”Isay,“youseethewatersgrowmorerestless.Andthisisbutasmallvessel.Idaren’tcarrymorethanonepassengeratatime.”

Iseethefireinhimwellenoughnow,foritblazesthroughhiseyes.“I thought it well understood, boatman,” he says, “my wife and Iwouldcross to the islandunseparated.Didn’tyousay so repeatedly,andthisthepurposeofyourquestions?”

“Please don’t misunderstand, friend,” I say. “I speak only of thepracticalmatterofcrossingthiswater.It’sbeyondquestionthetwoof

you will dwell on the island together, going arm in arm as you’vealwaysdone.Andifyourson’sburialplace is foundinsomeshadedspot, youmay think of placingwild flowers about it, such as you’llfind growing around the island. There’ll be bell heather, evenmarigold in thewoodland. Yet for this crossing today, I ask you towait awhile longer back on the shore. I’ll see to it the good lady’scomfortableontheoppositeone,forIknowaspotclosetotheboat’slanding where three ancient rocks face one another like oldcompanions.I’llleavehertherewellsheltered,yetwithaviewofthewaves,andhastenbacktofetchyou.Butleaveusfornowandwaitontheshoreamomentlonger.”

Theredglowofthesunsetonhim,orisitstillthefireinhisgaze?“I’ll not step off this boat, sir,whilemywife sitswithin it. Rowusovertogetherasyoupromised.OrmustIrowmyself?”

“Iholdtheoar,sir,anditremainsmydutytopronouncehowmanymayride in thisvessel.Can itbe,despiteourrecent friendship,yoususpectsomefoultrickery?DoyoufearI’llnotreturnforyou?”

“Iaccuseyouofnothing,sir.Yetmanyrumoursaboundofboatmenandtheirways.Imeannooffence,butbegyoutakeusbothnow,andnomoredallying.”

“Boatman,” comes her voice, and I turn in time to see her handreach at the empty air as though to findme there, thoughher eyesremainclosed.“Boatman.Leaveusasmallmoment.LetmyhusbandandIspeakaloneawhile.”

Dare I leave theboat to them?Yet surely shenowspeaks forme.Theoarfirminmyhands,Isteppasthimovertheboardsandintothewater. The sea rises to my knee soaking the hem of my robe. Thevessel’swell tiedand Ihave theoar.Whatmischiefcancomeof it?Still Idarenotwadefar,andthoughI looktotheshoreandremainstill as a rock, I find I again intrude on their intimacy. I hear themoverthequietlappingwaves.

“Hasheleftus,Axl?”

“Hestandsinthewater,princess.HewasreluctanttoleavehisboatandI’dsayhe’llnotgiveuslong.”

“Axl,thisisnotimetoquarrelwiththeboatman.We’vehadgreatfortunecominguponhimtoday.Aboatmanwholookssofavourably

onus.”

“Yetwe’veoftenheardoftheirslytricks,isn’tthatso,princess?”

“Itrusthim,Axl.He’llkeephisword.”

“Howcanyoubesosure,princess?”

“Iknowit,Axl.He’sagoodmanandwon’tletusdown.Doashesays and wait for him back on the land. He’ll come for you soonenough. Let’s do it this way, Axl, or I fear we’ll lose the greatdispensation offered us. We’re promised our time together on theisland,asonlya fewcanbe,evenamong thoseentwineda lifetime.Why risk such a prize for a fewmoments ofwaiting?Don’t quarrelwithhim,orwhoknowsnext timewe’ll face somebruteofaman?Axl, please make your peace with him. Even now I fear he growsangryandwillchangehismind.Axl,areyoustillthere?”

“I’mstillbeforeyou,princess.Canitreallybewe’retalkingofgoingourwaysseparately?”

“It’sonlyforamomentortwo,husband.Whatdoeshedonow?”

“Stillstandsthereunmoving,showingonlyhistallbackandshiningheadtous.Princess,doyoureallybelievewecantrustthisman?”

“Ido,Axl.”

“Yourtalkwithhimjustnow.Diditgohappily?”

“Itwenthappily,husband.Wasn’titthesameforyou?”

“Isupposeitwas,princess.”

Thesunsetonthecove.Silenceatmyback.DareIturntothemyet?

“Tell me, princess,” I hear him say. “Are you glad of the mist’sfading?”

“Itmaybringhorrorstothisland.Yetforusitfadesjustintime.”

“Iwaswondering,princess.Coulditbeourlovewouldneverhavegrownsostrongdowntheyearshadthemistnotrobbedusthewayitdid?Perhapsitallowedoldwoundstoheal.”

“What does it matter now, Axl? Mend your friendship with theboatman,andlethimferryusover.Ifit’soneofushe’llrow,thentheother,whyquarrelwithhim?Axl,whatdoyousay?”

“Verywell,princess.I’lldoasyousay.”

“Soleavemenowandreturntotheshore.”

“I’lldoso,princess.”

“Then why do you still linger, husband? Do you think boatmennevergrowimpatient?”

“Verywell,princess.Butletmejustholdyouoncemore.”

Dotheyembracenow,eventhoughIleftherswaddledlikeababe?Even thoughhemustkneel andmakea strange shapeon theboat’shardfloor?Isupposetheydo,andforaslongasthesilenceremains,Idare not turn. The oar in my arms, does it cast a shadow in thisswayingwater?Howmuchlonger?Atlasttheirvoicesreturn.

“We’lltalkmoreontheisland,princess,”hesays.

“We’ll do that, Axl. Andwith themist gone,we’ll have plenty totalkof.Doestheboatmanstillstandinthewater?”

“Hedoes,princess.I’llgonowandmakemypeacewithhim.”

“Farewellthen,Axl.”

“Farewell,myonetruelove.”

I hear him coming through thewater.Does he intend aword forme?Hespokeofmendingourfriendship.YetwhenIturnhedoesnotlook my way, only to the land and the low sun on the cove. Andneither do I search for his eye.Hewades on pastme, not glancingback.Waitformeontheshore,friend,Isayquietly,buthedoesnothearandhewadeson.

ANoteAbouttheAuthor

Kazuo Ishiguro is the author of six previous novels, including Never Let Me Go and TheRemains of the Day, whichwon the Booker Prize andwas adapted into an award-winningmovie. Ishiguro’s work has been translated into forty languages. In 1995, he received anOrderoftheBritishEmpireforservicetoliterature,andin1998wasnamedaChevalierdel’OrdredesArtsetdesLettresby theFrenchgovernment.He lives inLondonwithhiswifeanddaughter.