I lead my ready horse to the mouth of the cave, to say goodbye. Bryn's decision to stay pierces me more than I would have imagined. I hold him tight, remembering the good times. "Till tomorrow," I whisper into his ear, so that only he can hear. It will not be exactly tomorrow, but he knows what I mean.

Vaugn's gift for Amlaidh makes my heart jump into my chest. "Thanks, dear friend - he will be so happy to have it!" And I am happy at the thought of the comfort he will draw from it, so happy I could cry. Verica will appreciate the comb, and the knives will be useful, too, to those two fools!

I hug Brann and Flid and give them a thin silver arm-ring to show my gratitude, in the customs of the men from the cold Germanic plains. I even manage to scratch surreptitiously the two wolves.

And then I am up and going, without looking back. As usual.

After checking the direction of the traces, I take a detour towards some tendrils of smoke over the trees in the east. I find a tiny village by a stream, with a mill and a foundry. I manage to buy two pairs of shoes and some clothes from a widow. My reserves of money are almost depleted... I have the dead warrior's brooch in a pouch under my tunic, of course, but that one has to stay safe.

Then I head North. I keep to the woods, hurrying only as much as I can do it without making too much noise. My horse treads lightly the wet earth. Avoiding the bogs forces me to take a wide berth around my intended path - but they are on foot, and not in their best conditions...

The trees part on a small height. I tie my horse back into the wood and crawl out silently, to look out unseen. The traces of the fugitives are clear in the tall grass, even from that height. I should manage to see them now, or the smoke from their campfire... What I see freezes my heart.

The Romans.

(To be continued in Pictland-Strathclyde)