One day I looked out from my perch in the prow to see that the familiar grey coast had disappeared altogether. It was not to be seen again for two days. I ceaselessly scanned the barren horizon for any sign of land, and when at last that longed-for glimpse appeared again, the land had changed entirely: low, flat, brown and featureless. Nor did the Sea Wolves sail so close to the shore as before; they ceased searching out the viks for rest and water and took to keeping watch both day and night.

One result of this change was that I was given a little food-the same as they ate, though far less. It was rough fare: tough and tasteless meat, unseasoned and inexpertly dried. Still, it served its humble purpose: keeping this captive alive until he should be reconciled to his eventual destiny-whether death or some worse fate, I did not know.

I stood or sat at my accustomed place, looking out at the strange, unnamed land and, whether sitting or standing, I prayed most fervently for God's Swift Sure Hand to reach down and pluck me from my onerous plight. Well, that did not happen. Instead, the sharp-keeled ship flew swiftly over the sea. North and ever north, we sailed. Only once did we see any other vessel, and this we fled.

On sighting the ship, Brown Buskins called out to Yellow Hair, who joined him at the mast. The two stood shoulder to shoulder in close scrutiny of the stranger vessel for a moment, whereupon Yellow Hair began shouting commands which sent the supine sailors scurrying to their oars. All rowed with unmatched vigour, even though the sail remained full and the wind fair. It soon became clear that we were outdistancing the stranger. After a time, the other ship gave up the chase, and the Sea Wolves cheered.

Their joy at eluding a potential rival transformed their spirits. I felt their elation, and smiled in spite of myself. So like children, I thought, in the greedy zeal of all their appetites. And, like children, only the moment concerned them. They had escaped an unwanted confrontation and their joy knew no bounds; leaping from bench to rail, they shook their spears and rattled their shields, brimming with bravado now that their supposed enemy had turned tail.

In all, it was a most instructive lesson. Nor was it wasted on me.

After that, I no longer looked to return to Armorica. The barbarians, as it seemed to me, were making for safe harbour. Turning my eyes to the north I searched those cold, black waters for any likely destination. The weather turned foul again; the wind blew hard, raising the waves. Low cloud hung over the sea, and heavy fog obscured the shore. We did not make landfall, however; the Sea Wolves apparently enjoyed the heavy weather.

When, at the end of the second day, the sun returned, the land changed again: deep bays fronting hard shingles of stone, with dark green forests rising on steep slopes behind. The hills were not high, but their upper reaches were often lost in the thick fogs of mist and cloud that festered in that inhospitable clime. I saw no settlements of any size; even single habitations were few enough. Even so, the Sea Wolves feared unchallenged passage. This I knew because, upon entering those dark seas, we took to sailing only at night, a feat the barbarians had mastered well.

The fact that they, too, might have enemies had simply never occurred to me before. But seeing how wary and trepid they became as they neared home, gave me to know that though they preyed on any they deemed weaker, they were themselves prey to others stronger than themselves and feared them with as great a fear as any they inspired. Truly, they were wolves: savagely wild, brutal, with all men's hands raised against them at each and every turn.

Thus, I kept my wits about me and learned all I could of their uncouth ways. The more I learned, the more I pitied them, for they were without redemption and not even the merest hope of salvation clung to them. God help me, I began to feel superior to them for my learning and civilization. Arrogance seized me in its gaping jaws and shook me hard; my pride swelled. I imagined that, given the chance, I might do some mighty work among them by bringing the Good News of Jesu to them. For I had heard of such things.

Indeed, had not sainted Patraic accomplished this very feat among his former captors? This, I determined, I would do. I would become Patraic to these Sea Wolves and earn everlasting glory.

It was a grey and green land to which we fled: coldwater bays and black rock hills bristling with tall stands of pine and birch, and small fields eked from the ever-encroaching forest and, with back-breaking care, scratched into the thin, poor soil. The settlements were small: mere huddles of timber huts scattered along the coast and at the edges of forest, or on wooded islands. Several days after entering northern waters and sailing furtively past numerous islands and bays, we came at last to our journey's end: a settlement tucked well back into a wide pebbled cove of a broad, high peninsula. Surrounded by a tall timber palisade, it appeared little more than the forest from which it had been so laboriously cleft.

There were other, smaller ships and boats, both in the bay and drawn up on the hard shingle. At the appearance of the ship, the whole settlement rushed down to the water and stood crying loud welcome. The arrival was eagerly greeted by one and all-even the hounds ran along the strand happily yapping at their masters' return. Everyone shouted, cried, and talked at once and the welcome became a joyous din.

Eager to be once more reunited with their kin, most of the Sea Wolves leapt from the rails into the water and swam to shore where they were received with great acclaim and gladness. Women embraced their husbands, children ran to their fathers; older men strode the shingle shouting and gesturing, boys brandished sharpened sticks, and young men lofted spears. Clearly, the return had been eagerly awaited.

I stood in my place at the prow, looking on. It was like any reception where families welcome husbands, fathers, and sons home from the sea. Only, these menfolk had been away on errands of pillage and plunder, scattering not fishnets but woe and death in their wake.

Yellow Hair allowed the ship to be run aground and watched while it was made fast to two stout poles set in the strand. Satisfied, he then ordered his men to bring forth the plunder. The tented platform behind the mast was quickly stripped of its hide covering and behold! five wooden caskets or chests and a veritable mound of weaponry-swords, spears, shields, and suchlike.

Red Giant stooped and gathered a chest in his great arms and, raising it over his head, gave out an enormous grunt and heaved the casket onto the shingle below. The chest splintered and burst; the sheen of yellow gold glinted in the sunlight. While two other Sea Wolves struggled with a second chest, the giant gathered a third treasure box and heaved it onto the strand beside the first. The fourth struck the others and broke open, spilling its golden treasure onto the beach.

The people gathered close about the trove and stood marvelling at the wealth arrayed there. Yet, no one-not even those who had thrown it down-made bold to touch it with so much as a fingertip. Rather, they waited until Yellow Hair had climbed down to stand over it.

This, I reckoned, was the first time the barbarians had bridled their appetites for so long a time altogether. They all gathered close about, faces glowing with keen anticipation, eyes agleam with treasure-light, murmuring to one another behind their hands.

The chieftain spread an oxhide on the strand and then caused two of the three remaining chests to be opened and their contents poured out upon the skin. The last chest, I noticed, remained locked and was set aside; but the contents of the broken caskets were scrupulously gathered and added to the pile of gold and silver ornament and coin. And it was no mean heap. I had never seen so much wealth in one place. Sure, it was a hoard to rival that of the Tuatha De Danaan.