As Brocmal had made no attempt to even look at Clynnog, I started to repeat the seafarer's warning. "I heard him," the disagreeable monk muttered. "I am not dead yet."

I did not have time to make any reply, for a wave broke over the ship and from then on it was all I could do to keep my grip. The sea tossed hapless Ban Gwydd to and fro like so much driftwood, raising it up and slamming it down, first the prow and then the stern, spinning the boat around, washing over it in torrents. Fingers aching, shivering with cold, I clung to the cladding and prayed for deliverance.

White-frothed water surged on every side. I could hear nothing but the thunder of hard-driven waves colliding with one another as they were flung onto the beach. With each surge, I slipped lower down the side. Finally, I could maintain my grip no longer, and when a last great wave pounded over us, I was torn from my place, spun, and rolled under the water.

Dizzy, disoriented, I floundered, flinging my arms and legs about. My knee struck something firm: sand!

Gathering my legs beneath me, I stood…and to my surprise rose halfway out of the water. The shore was directly before me-fifty or sixty paces away. Remembering Clynnog's advice to get clear of the ship, I moved my feet and began running. I had not taken three steps, however, when I was struck from behind and thrown down. The water pummelled me and tumbled me along the bottom. As the wave withdrew, I struggled to my knees and came up spitting sand. I took two more steps before the next wave caught me; this time, however, I was able to brace myself in time and kept my feet.

Ban Gwydd, I saw, was now fifty or so paces away, the three sea monks still aboard, clinging to the keel. I followed the boat, falling only once more, and dragged myself from the foaming surf to collapse on the beach. I lay there for a moment, eyes closed, heart pounding, gathering what little wit and strength remained.

"God be praised! Are you alive, Aidan?"

"Only just," I answered with a cough. I opened my eyes to see Gwilym standing over me, hair all down in his eyes, and dripping water from every pinnacle and point.

"It is Aidan!" he shouted over his shoulder to someone else. "He is not hurt." To me, he said, "Are you hurt, brother?"

"Aghh!" I answered, spitting salt water and gasping for air. Then I remembered: "Brocmal was with me! He was on the side of the ship. I do not know what has become of him."

I rolled onto my hands and knees. Gwilym helped me to my feet. "The ship is just there," he said, "he cannot have gone far." The lanky Briton began striding across the strand.

The waves had pushed the hull well up on the beach and there it had come to rest-no more than thirty paces away. Clynnog, Ciaran, and Faolan clambered over the hull and onto the beach as we approached.

"Is Brocmal with you?" I called, trying to make myself heard above the thunder of the waves.

"Alas, no," replied Ciaran. "We have not seen him."

"Who have you found?" asked Clynnog.

"Brynach and Cadoc are safe," Gwilym told us, pointing to a stand of rocks some little way down beach. "Ddewi and I are searching for the rest."

"That makes eight," said Faolan.

"Nine," added Gwilym, "counting Brocmal-if we can find him."

A cry sounded from somewhere down the beach. We turned and looked along the strand to see four figures staggering towards us; one of them, I could tell even at that distance, was Dugal. He and another monk were supporting a third between them. "It is Dugal," I said. "He has Fintan with him."

"And Con and Mael, too," said Clynnog, cupping his hands over his eyes. He and Ciaran hastened to meet them.

"That makes twelve," observed Faolan. "Only Brocmal is missing."

"He cannot be far away," I said, wading out into the water. The sun was low now; shielding my eyes against the glare, I searched the waves for any sign of Brocmal. The sea monks likewise scanned the swift-running surf. We were called away from this task by Gwilym, who shouted, "There! Ddewi has found him!"

So saying, he and Faolan began running up the strand to where Ddewi was crouched over a figure which was laying half in the water. I made to follow, but as I turned, something bumped against my leg. I looked down to see a man's head and shoulders bobbing in the wave-surge.

"Here!" I shouted in surprise. "I have found someone!" No one heard me, however, for they all continued running up the shore to help Ddewi, and I was left alone.

Grabbing hold of a bare arm, I tugged the body onto the sand as far as I could and rolled it over. I did not need the silver neck chain, nor the thick silver armband, to tell me that I had found a Sea Wolf.

A big man, with long fair hair and beard, he had a black tattoo of a boar on his upper right arm and a wide leather belt around his waist. Tucked into the belt was a long gold-handled knife. He boasted neither shirt nor mantle, but wore leggings of fine thin leather and buskins of hairy pigskin. He appeared completely lifeless; but I thought best to make certain, so I knelt and pressed my ear to the man's chest.

I was still trying to find a heartbeat when a wave caught me from behind and sent me sprawling over the corpse. This cold embrace so disgusted me that I squirmed to my feet and started away. But I stopped and turned back. I could not leave the body where the waves might drag it back into the cold, cold sea.

"Christ have mercy," I muttered through clenched teeth. Drawing a deep breath, I seized both wrists in my hands, and dragged the body all the way past the highwater mark on the sand-a fair fifteen paces away-whereupon I sank down beside it, breathing hard.

My hasty action must have reawakened life in the corpse, for as I sat back on my heels, staring at the pale cold form beside me, the body convulsed and vomited up a bellyful of seawater. The barbarian then fell to coughing and gagging so much I thought he might drown again, so I pulled him over on his side.

More seawater gushed from his mouth and he drew a long shaky breath and moaned softly. I stood, prepared to run if he should leap to his feet and attack me. But he just lay there groaning, his eyes closed. My eye fell on the knife in his belt, and it occurred to me that it might be better if I held the weapon.

Crouching near, I stretched a cautious hand toward the hilt.

At that moment, the barbarian's eyes snapped open. The look of mingled surprise and terror in those ice-blue eyes halted me. I froze, my fingertips all but touching the handle. He noticed my fingers reaching towards his knife-and stiffened.

I withdrew my hand quickly and sat back. He blinked, his features drawing into an expression of open astonishment. I looked at him and he looked at me, neither of us moved. A kind of understanding passed between us just then, I think, for he relaxed and closed his eyes once more, pressing his face against the sand.

"What have you there, Aidan?" someone called. I glanced up as Dugal and the others arrived.

Fintan, his face pinched with pain, stood hunch-shouldered between Dugal and Connal, clutching his arm; the pilot's wrist was red and swollen, the hand limp. Mael squatted down beside me as the others gathered around, looking at the body stretched out in the sand.

"Is he dead then?" asked Clynnog.

"He was," I replied. "But he recovered."

"What should we do with him?" wondered Mael, and we fell to discussing this. We were on the point of deciding, when Gwilym returned.

"Brocmal has not drowned," he informed us. "Though he has swallowed his weight in water and sand, I expect. Brynach and Cadoc are with him."

"Then we have all survived," said Clynnog. "All thirteen-and one more besides," he added, prodding the barbarian with a toe.