'This ugly fellow is not dead,' I told them. 'He is merely asleep – although, perhaps it would be better for this town if it were otherwise.'

I stooped down and, tucking my fingers under the brute's belt, lifted upward sharply. This action produced two striking effects: the thief suddenly moaned as the air rushed back into his lungs, and the gold ring slipped from its hiding place beneath the belt and fell out upon the ground-to the astonishment of the townspeople looking on.

I picked up the ring, and handed it to Roupen. 'Come, my lord, the boat is waiting. We will shake the dust of this place from our feet.'

I put my arm around his shoulder and drew him away. 'What about the supplies?' Roupen asked as we walked from the square.

'There will be another settlement down river,' I told him. 'We will buy what we need there. I want nothing more to do with this place.'

Upon returning to the boat, I bade Dodu the haulier farewell. He was sorry to see us go, and said that if he did not have a wife and son waiting for him at home, he would count it a blessing to go on pilgrimage with us to the Holy Land. I told him we would ask for him on our way home. 'After all, I still owe you for hauling the boat.'

'No, no!' he cried. 'You saved my good oxen. I should pay you.'

'Nevertheless,' I said, 'I will look forwards to paying this debt. Until then, my friend, I wish you well.'

Some of the more curious townspeople had followed us to the landing. As Sarn pushed the boat out into the slow-moving stream, Padraig addressed the onlookers. Pointing to Dodu, he said, 'This man is a friend of mine. From now on, you will treat him like a brother. For I will return one day, and if I learn he has been abused in any way by anyone here, I will call down the wrath of God upon this place. Do not think you will escape judgement for your sins.'

The people gaped at ire, aghast at this startling pronouncement. The current carried the boat away, and we left them standing on the landing, looking after us in wonder. Roupen, too, was more than a little awe-struck. Once we were safely down stream, he pulled the ring from his finger and offered it to me, saying, 'You saved my life at risk of your own. My father will reward you greatly. Consider this token but a small foretaste of the treasure to come.'

I thanked him for his thoughtfulness, but declined, saying, 'If I take your ring, you will have nothing with which to buy supplies in the next settlement. That is the agreement we made.'

'True,' he agreed, reluctantly slipping on the ring once more. 'Even so, I will remain in your debt until the honour of our family is discharged.'

The next settlement was two days down river. We were hungry again by then, but God is good: we arrived at midday on market day, and the market was lively and well-supplied, the merchants eager for trade. In exchange for Roupen's ring, we got two bags of ground meal, a haunch of salt pork, five loaves of bread, half a wheel of hard cheese, a few strips of dried beef, and various other provisions such as eggs, nuts, dried peas, and salt fish. We also bought a cask of cider, which the hardy folk of the region drink almost to the exclusion of all else.

We might have got more for the gold somewhere else-for all it was a very fine ring-but we were already feeling the pinch, and did not know how far the next market might be; also, with space already cramped it would not have helped us to capsize our craft. We bargained hard and were able to come away with our provisions, but nothing left over. While Sarn and Padraig stowed everything aboard the boat, Roupen and I went to inquire of the way ahead. Although the young lord had come up the river, and knew the general route, he could not remember how many days the journey required.

'It is perhaps nine days,' said the merchant I asked. 'This time of year, of course,' he tapped his front teeth with a dirty fingernail, 'when the water is low, I suppose it might take longer.'

We thanked him for this information, and turned to leave. He called us back, saying, 'There is no difficulty, mind. Just keep to the main channel until you come to Lyon, where the river joins with another and changes its name.'

'What does it become?'

'The Rhone,' he said. 'Just keep to the main channel and you will have no difficulty after that. I should know, I have been to Lyon often enough.'

'But we want to go to Marseilles,' I pointed out. 'Is it much further after that?'

'Oh, aye. If I were you I would forget all about Marseilles and go to Lyon instead. It is better in every way. I always enjoy very good trade in Lyon; the people there are very wealthy. Not like here, mind. Still, I make no complaint. The people here are hard-working, and know the value of their goods.'

Again, we thanked him for providing such excellent advice, and made to leave, whereupon he said, 'After Lyon, you are only seven days – or perhaps eight, as I say-from Avignon, and from there it is but a short distance to Marseilles by sea. You should stay a few days if you can. The cathedral is splendid-or will be when it is finished. They have only begun, mind, but already it is a sight worth seeing. Even Paris has not such a grand cathedral.'

Padraig and I walked back to the boat. 'Our young lord Roupen might have warned us it was so far. He doesn't seem to remember anything about the journey at all.'

'Do you regret taking him with us?' asked the priest.

I thought about it for a moment. 'No-at least, not yet,' I replied. 'But we are still a long way from Marseilles.'

It was as the merchant said-we reached Lyon without trouble four days later, and six days after that Avignon-which, I was disappointed to learn, was nowhere near the sea. Our destination was still many days off.

Feeling that time was pressing, we journeyed on without even so much as a glance at the city or its splendid cathedral. It was late in the day when we reached the first shoal south of the city, and decided to camp for the night and begin our exertions afresh in the morning. We stopped at a place where the bull rushes grew tall, forming a high green palisade around us; we pulled the boat up onto the gravel shingle, and Padraig set about making supper with the little that remained of our once-plentiful supplies.

No sooner had we sat down to eat, however, than we were attacked and overwhelmed by dense clouds of biting midges. Despite the smoke from the fire, which usually kept such pests at bay, these fierce flyers swarmed over us, biting each time they alighted. More demon than insect, their constant stinging soon drove us from our food. In order to get some relief, we rolled ourselves in our cloaks, head to foot, and finished our meal in sweltering misery.

We then lay down to sleep, though the air was quite warm, and the sky was still light. All night long I lay with my face covered, scarcely able to breathe, the perpetual buzzing in my ears. We all woke early, ill-rested and itching from a thousand tiny sores which the midges had inflicted. Not wishing to linger even a moment, we did not pause to break fast, but straightaway seized the ropes and began pulling the boat over the gravel shoal, eager to get as far away from that place as quickly as possible.

It was hot work. And stinking, too-owing to the numerous pools of stagnant water lying in the hollows of the sandbars. The ever-present reek of the warm, slime-green water filled our nostrils, driving all thoughts of food from our heads. So, aside from pausing now and then to swallow a few mouthfuls of water, we took no meals. There was little left of our provisions, and the smell and flies took away any desire to eat, so we pushed on and ever on, shouldering the ropes and towing the boat through the heat of the day.