And when I could take in no more, I lowered my gaze to the water and caught a gleaming flash out of the corner of my eye. I looked again and saw a swift, graceful form curving through the water; a single ripple and it was gone. I half-turned to call Dugal-and saw it again: a smooth, brown, lightly-dappled body with a face and eyes that looked right at me. "Dugal!" I cried in alarm, waving my hand at the water. "Look! Look!"

Dugal peered unconcernedly over the rail and searched the deeps. "What was it-a fish?"

"I do not know what it was," I gasped, leaning down for a better view. "But it was no fish I ever saw."

Dugal only nodded and turned away.

"There!" I shouted, as the swift-gliding creature appeared from under the ship. "There it is again! Did you see it, Dugal? Did you see it?"

He spread his hands.

"What was it?" I demanded.

"I cannot say, as I did not see it, Aidan." He spread his hands again in a gesture of serene helplessness.

From his place at the tiller, Fintan the pilot chuckled aloud, and asked: "Have you never seen a seal before, Aidan?"

"Never," I confessed. "Was it a seal?"

"Aye, it was. Dappled, you say?" He raised his eyebrows. "Then it was a young one. Keep your eyes open, brother; you will see many and many a thing in these waters."

"Seals, Dugal," I said, shaking my head in wonder.

Brocmal, standing nearby, snorted in derision and moved away. He had not altered his indignant countenance since boarding the ship, and glared at me with disapproval whenever I caught his eye.

"They commonly go in packs," Faolan informed me. "You know you are close to land when you see seals."

Within moments it seemed to me that the waters were asurge with seals-a score or more of the delightful creatures. We all gathered at the rail to watch them diving under the ship and sporting among the waves close to the prow. Sometimes they surfaced to watch us, glistening heads bobbing above the waves, their big eyes glittering like polished jet, before they turned tail-up and disappeared once more. Once or twice, they called to us with their rough, barking voices as they rolled and splashed in the water.

Fintan called a command and turned the ship. When I looked, the cliffs now loomed over us and I could hear the wash of the sea over the rocks and on the shore. We began passing south along the coast. This part of the land appeared deserted. I saw no settlements or holdings, not even so much as a single farm or the dysart cell of a recluse monk.

"There were people here once," Gwilym told me when I asked. "But they are gone now-many years ago even. The settlements have moved further inland. Look in the glens and vales, that is where you will find them now." He looked lovingly upon the land of his birth. "Only Ty Gwyn can still be seen from the sea," he added proudly. "Come what may, that Fortress of Faith will not be moved."

"Will we see it?"

"Oh, aye, tomorrow," he replied. "We will stop there for additional supplies."

As the sun began dipping towards the western sea, Fintan, who had been searching for a sheltered bay for the night, turned the ship into what first appeared as nothing more than a cleft in the cliffside. But as we sailed nearer, the gap seemed to open wider and I saw that it was really a small cove.

The water was deep and calm, allowing us to come near to the shore. Bishop Cadoc used the small coracle to reach land, but the rest of us simply slipped over the side and waded ashore. While the seafaring brothers made the ship secure, we began making camp. Dugal and I were sent in search of firewood while the others sought water and set about preparing the meal.

"We will find nothing on this barren rock," Dugal observed, glancing around at the hard slaty shingle. So, we climbed to the clifftop in order to find better pickings. Though there were no trees of any size, there were a number of dense thickets with many dead branches easily broken and gathered into sizeable bundles; these we toted to the edge of the cliff and threw down to the shore below. In a short while we had collected enough to last the night.

"Come," Dugal said, "let us spy out the land." And so we walked along the clifftop to learn what we could of the wilderness hereabouts.

Britain, so far as I could see, was no different from Eire: the same green turf and gorse over the same rock. And that was all. Still, after a day aboard ship it felt good to stretch my legs and feel solid ground beneath my feet.

We returned to the shingle and retrieved the firewood we had collected, then made our way back to camp. Fintan and his crew, instead of coming ashore, had put out fishing lines from the side of the ship, and with very little effort had soon caught enough mackerel to feed us all. While Connal and Faolan gutted the fish, Dugal and I made the fire. The fish were spitted and the spits quickly set around the perimeter of the fire to cook. Presently, silvery smoke drifted into the dusky sky, thick with the aroma of roasting fish.

I listened to the talk around me while idly turning the spit and watching the sinking sun stain the blue-green water with molten gold. The fish sizzled and the sky faded to pale yellow, and I listened to the gulls chatter on the rock cliffs above as they gathered for the night.

When at last the mackerel was cooked, I raised the spit, peeled off a strip of flesh with my fingers, blew on it a little and tucked it into my mouth. Truly, I believed I had never tasted anything so good in all my life. I also realized I had not eaten anything since breaking fast early that morning.

Was it only this morning that we left? I wondered, turning the spit before the flames. Already, it seemed the Aidan who had set off with a heart full of woe was not the same Aidan eating fish from a spit and licking his fingers.

After our meal, Bishop Cadoc led prayers. A monk on pilgrimage is excused from the daily round; the journey itself is accounted a form of prayer. Even so, we did not neglect any opportunity to refresh ourselves in this way.

We sang psalms as the stars came out, our voices ringing from the rocks all around and out over the glimmering water. With the last notes soaring into the night, we wrapped ourselves in our cloaks and slept on the shingle under the stars.

We awakened at first light to mist and low cloud. The wind had changed during the night, and now came out of the east in a low gusting breeze. The pilot and Mael stood at the water's edge, wavelets lapping at their feet, scanning the sky and talking. Cadoc joined them, exchanged a word, and then called out: "Rise, brothers!" he called. "The day is before us!"

While Clynnog and Ciaran-either side of the coracle-guided the bishop, the rest of us broke camp and waded back to the ship. Once aboard, Fintan took the tiller and signalled Connal to raise the anchor. The others plied the long oars and began turning the ship.

"Let us help them," suggested Dugal. "It will do us good to learn the seaman's craft."

He took up an oar and put it in my hands, then found one for himself. Dugal stood on one side of the ship, and I on the other. Clynnog showed me how to work the long-handled blade back and forth in the water. "More like sawing wood," he told me, "and less like stirring porridge, Aidan. Long, easy strokes. Do not turn your wrists so."

Slowly, the boat turned in the water and we began moving back out of the little cove and into the open sea once more. Once well beyond the rocks, Fintan called for the sail to be raised; the heavy fabric shook itself once, twice, caught the wind and filled. The ship slipped smoothly into deeper water, and we were away.

The pilot steered a course parallel to the land, moving south along the coast. The morning passed in a damp haze of mist and fog which clung to the cliffs and obscured the hills, leaving little to see.