I suddenly think that I'd better check the cave to see if Brann and Flid have left anything which could show that they had been living there. I turn back and check out the cave. While it’s obvious that this has been occupied in the recent past, I can’t see any signs that would specifically identify Brann and Flid as its inhabitants. I even have a quick look for Cliste’s droppings but clearly she did her business somewhere outside. Good wolf. I sigh with relief.

As I prepare to leave the cave, my eye is caught by activity on the sands. My hairs prickle. A group of riders is moving slowly across the vast expanse of sand. They’ve spread out into a long loosely linked line. I’m certain this is the party which turned up at the village with no friendly intent towards Brann and Flid. I ponder my options. If I leave the cave, mount up and gallop off they’re bound to spot me; even if I lead them away from the direction that my friends have taken there’s a real danger they’ll pick up the track of Vaugn’s cart. There are too many to fight- odds of fourteen to one are a bit steep even for me in my most pugnacious mood. Perhaps my best option is to try to bluff them- take on the identity created for me by the village head and tell them a pack of lies. I just hope none of them know me as Bryn, though I have concerns about the hooded figure riding at the centre of the line. That horse looks familiar…..

As I ponder my next steps and find none of them very favourable, the search party comes to a stop. They’ve come across the shattered remains of Amlaidh’s boat and are clearly pondering how this may fit into things. A vague hope springs to my mind. It’s not going to be easy to make sense of the tracks- the coming and going of the tides and yesterday’s storms will have played havoc with them. The wrecked boat is going to complicate things further. I watch, willing them to misinterpret the signs. Amlaidh and Verica will have left trails this morning and at least close to the edge of the beach these should still be visible- one man and one woman heading north. Val followed- another person going north on horseback; if the searchers have me in mind as a possible factor then that could persuade them that I’d gone north too.

A rider at the far right hand edge of the line shouts something- I can’t make out words, but he’s pointing at the sands. The others gather round him. There’s a lengthy conference. It’s clear opinions are mixed. I will all the harder “They went north, they went north”.

I’m not blessed with the kinds of powers that Flid or Brann have; I can’t shift my shape or see visions or tell destinies by looking at a person or project my thoughts into the head of another. Some power must be helping me today, though. The group argue a little longer, then wheel round together and head north. I watch them go along the shore, turning into the trees.

When the last one has vanished from sight a hundred heartbeats I leave the cave. I leap on to Lugh and ride off, following the trail of Vaugn’s cart.

They’ve made better time than I expected and the sun is well on its way down towards the Ocean to my right when I finally overhaul them. The cart is bouncing along with Vaugn at the reins. Brann sits in the rear, his arm round Flid, who appears to be asleep. The wolves sport and play. The sight brings a pang to my heart. I hate to disturb them and bring bad news.

Nevertheless I have to. As I approach, Brann springs to life, unsheathing his sword until he realises who it is approaching. He wakes Flid to greet me.

I tell them the events of the day. “The party chasing you has gone north, after Amlaidh and Verica and Val. If they catch up with her I think we can rely on her to send them further in the wrong direction, which gives us a further breathing space. But sooner or later they’ll realise they’ve been sent on a false track and come back looking for you- and quite likely for me as well. We’ll need to make good time; you’re going to need horses, folks.”