Loeter backed nearer the door. 'No! They only wanted to hunt. I swear it, they only wanted to hunt! I was going to bring the gold to you… '

'Enough! I will not hear you demean yourself further.' Custennin stepped up onto the table and came towards him, the dagger in his hand.

Loeter turned and bolted to the door. Gwendolau was there with the two wolf hounds and men on either side of him.

'Do not kill me!' Loeter screamed. He turned to face Custennin, advancing towards him. 'I beg you, my lord. Do not kill me!'

'Your death will be more painless than any of those who went before you this day. I do not have the stomach to do what the Sea Wolves do to their captives.'

Loeter gave a terrible scream and fell down on his knees before his king, weeping pitifully and shamefully. All looked on in awful silence. 'I beg you, lord. Spare me… spare me… send me away.'

Custennin seemed to consider this. He gazed down at the cringing wretch and then turned back to those looking on. 'What do you say, brothers? Do we spare his sorry life?'

Even before the words were out of his mouth, Loeter was on his feet, his knife in his hand. As the knife flashed towards the king's back, there came a savage snarl and flurry of motion. Black lightning sped towards him…

Loeter gave one small shriek before the dogs tore out his throat.

The traitor toppled dead to the floor, but the hounds did not cease their attack until Gwendolau came and put his hands on their collars and hauled them away, blood streaming from their muzzles.

Custennin stared down at the mutilated body. 'This is what your gold has bought you, Loeter,' he intoned sadly. 'I ask you now, was it worth it?'

He made a gesture with his hand and the men before the door came and dragged the body from the hall.

I turned to Ganieda, who sat beside me, staring, her eyes fierce and hard in the light of the torches. 'He got better than he deserved,' she said softly, then, turning to me, added, 'It had to be, Myrddin. Treachery must be punished; there is no other way for a king.'

'It is a shameful business,' Custennin was saying, 'and not meet for a guest under my roof to see it. Forgive me, lad, it could not be helped.'

'I understand,' I told him, 'There is no need to ask forgiveness.'

The huge man clapped me on the shoulder with one of his paws. 'You have the grace of a king yourself. Indeed, your royal blood tells. Is it true that you lived with the Hill Folk these last years?'

'It is true.'

'Why?' he wondered, genuinely puzzled. 'A canny lad like yourself must have found many a chance to run away.'

'Oh, escape was there if I wanted it. But it was for me to stay.'

'You wanted to stay?'

'Not at first,' I told him, 'but I came to see that there was a purpose to it.'

'What purpose, then?'

I had to admit that I did not know, even yet. 'Perhaps it will come to me one day. All I know is that I do not regret the time I lived with them. I learned much.'

He shook his head, then. This was Custennin: a man who saw things clearly or he did not see them at all; who took direct and necessary action – as with the trouble concerning his wayward chief, Loeter; who faced matters squarely and settled accounts fairly and on time. He was a king ever mindful of the respect of his people and sought to win it daily.

'Where do you go now, Myrddin?' he asked. 'Ganieda tells me you hope to reach Dyfed before winter.'

'That is where my friends are. My own people are further south.'

'So you have said. It will be difficult.' I nodded.

The weather will break any day and winter will catch you up.'

'All the more reason to go quickly,' I replied. 'Yet, I would ask you to stay. Winter here with us and take up the road in the spring.' That was Ganieda's doing, surely; I sensed her hand at work in the matter. She would not ask me herself, but put her father up to it. 'It would make the time go more quickly for all of us.'

'Your offer is kind as it is generous, and I regret that it cannot be so.'

'Go then, lad. As your mind is made up, I will not ask you to change it now. Three years is a long time away from home.'

He walked with me out of the hall to the stable where he ordered my pony to be saddled; he frowned as the small horse was made ready. 'No doubt the beast is sturdy, but it is not a mount for a prince. Perhaps you would travel more quickly with one of mine.'

Custennin gestured to his horsemaster to bring one of his horses. 'It is true the breed lacks stature,' I allowed. 'Still, they are wonderfully strong and suited to long journeys. The Prytani move quickly by day or night and their ponies carry them with never a mis-step long after another horse must be rested.' I patted the neck of my shaggy little animal. 'I thank you for the offer, lord,' I said, 'but I will keep my horse.'

'So be it, then,' agreed Custennin. 'I only thought that if you took one of mine, you would have reason to come back the sooner.'

I smiled. Ganieda again? 'Your hospitality is reason enough.'

'Not to mention my daughter,' he added slyly. 'She is indeed a beautiful woman, Lord Custennin. And her manner does her father much credit.'

The lady under discussion appeared just then, took one look at the horse saddled before me. 'So you are leaving.'

'I am.'

'It has been three years,' said Custennin gently. 'He was a boy when they took him, Ganieda. He is near enough a man now. Let him go.'

She accepted this with good grace, though I could see she was disappointed. 'Well, he must not ride alone. Send someone with him.'

Custennin considered this. 'Who would you suggest?'

'Send Gwendolau,' she said simply, as if it were the most natural thing. They had been talking as if I was not there at all, but then Ganieda turned to me. 'You would not begrudge my brother a place at your side?'

'Indeed, I would not,' I replied. 'But it is not necessary. I can find my way.'

'And find your death in the snow,' Ganieda said, 'or worse – on the end of a Sea Wolf spear.'

I laughed. 'They would have to catch me first.'

'Are you so elusive? So invincible?' She arched an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. Had I Archimedes' lever, there was no moving her.

Needless to say, I had a later start than planned, but also more company. For although Gwendolau was happy to accompany me, he insisted on bringing his man, Baram, with us, saying, 'If you find your friends, I will need company on the way back.'

I could not argue with him, so would have to make the best of it. I would go with better protection, which was not to be despised, but I would go more slowly. Nevertheless, by midday we had a pack horse loaded with the provisions and fodder we would require. We left Custennin's stronghold, Ganieda standing erect, neither waving nor turning away, just watching until we were out of sight.

Two days later we reached the old Roman road above Arderydd. Aside from the blackthorn and bracken crowding thick along its lance-straight length, the stone road showed no sign of ruin or decay. The Romans built to last; they built to outlast time itself.

Once upon the road we made better time, despite the rains which settled in earnest. By day we rode beneath a heavy iron sky that leaked water over us; by night icy winds tossed the trees and set the wolves howling in the hills. Miserable we were, cold and drenched for days on end so that our evening fire did nothing to warm or cheer us.

Gwendolau proved an amiable companion and undertook to keep us all in as good humour as the dreadful weather would allow. He sang wonderfully absurd songs, and recounted long, maddeningly intricate tales of his hunting exploits – to hear him talk there was not a beast alive that did not fear his extraordinary skill. He also told me all he knew of what had passed in the world of men since I was taken by the Hill Folk. I liked him and was not sorry that he had come with me.