and the village in its walls. I notice activity in the market place- a young woman in animated discussion with a horse dealer. Nice horses….. She looks nice, too. Not as nice as Oriana , though. I hope Oriana will be all right on her own. I drift off for a few minutes of pleasant fantasies of the life I hope I’ll have with her when this is over- whatever exactly “this” turns out to be.

My attention returns as we ride into the woods. Initially it isn’t hard to follow the trail- a large number of horsemen going at full gallop leaves rather a lot of traces. We go on at a steady trot. The Roman seems able to manage this though he sits his horse like a sack of lentils. I don’t suppose he’s going to make a break for it in these woods but I keep a close eye on him anyway.

As we go on, the trail thins. Clearly the clan got increasingly spread out, with individual riders following their own paths. At least they all seem to be heading in more or less the same direction- south.

My most immediate concern- apart from wondering where everybody is headed and what we’ll find when we get there- is that there is at least one Roman-led gang out in the woods too, also with a prisoner. If our little party blunders into them by accident things could get very messy.

We ride a little further, deep in silence. The sun is well past its zenith now, as far as I can judge. The trail is getting still harder to follow. Suddenly, Vaugn stops.

“Do you hear something?” he whispers. I listen. There’s a faint rustling in the undergrowth. Not wind- there’s only the gentlest of breezes today. People. Another party in the woods……

I move up beside Vaugn, drawing my sword. “Someone’s out there.” He nods, taking the great war hammer into his right hand.

There’s a sudden crashing all round us; crashing and yelling. A group of horsemen thunder out of the woods in front of us; another group comes from behind, shouting war cries and waving their swords. My stomach tightens. Then Vaugn breaks out in a huge laugh.

“ Gwellyn, you silly young fool. Don’t you recognise your own cousin?”

The apparent leader of the group in front of us, a young man on a roan horse, raises his hand abruptly and shouts “It’s Vaugn, lads. Friends.” The charges in front of us and behind both come to a rather ragged halt.

“What are you doing here?” the young man Vaugn named as Gwellyn asked. “I thought you’d be at your forge”

“So I would be if you lot hadn’t set off in such a mad rush. Someone had to help Bryn here keep an eye on our tame Roman and deliver him to Brann.”

“I don’t suppose you know where he’s got to- or the rest of the clan for that matter?” I ask. It’s obvious that this group- I make their numbers slightly above a dozen but less than a score- is made up of young men less well mounted or less skilled in keeping up with the war chiefs. The bulk of the clan is somewhere else. Brann is probably somewhere else again

“No. We just sort of followed when he set off. The clan got spread out a bit in the woods. We were still in contact when a deer which had been startled by the noise ran across our path. It spooked Eara” he paused to stroke his horse “and he set off after it- and the other horses ran with him despite our best efforts. By the time we’d sorted ourselves out we’d been carried off some way from the others. We’ve been trying to find the right path ever since. Then we heard you and thought you might be the Roman gang with Culann.”

“Well, I suppose we might as well press on” I say. “At least there’s more of us to keep an eye on him.” I point at the Roman, who has remained mute throughout.

A thought strikes me. “Presumably you haven’t heard any horn calls”

“No.”

On a ride like this only the war chiefs would carry their horns. Everybody else has to keep silent. Gwellyn looks at me. “You’ve got a horn with you. Will you try sounding a call?”

“No” I reply instantly. “I shouldn’t have brought the horn with me- and wouldn’t if we’d left in a more orderly manner. Horn calls are a matter for the war chiefs and them alone. Anyway nobody in this clan knows what my horn sounds like or what my personal calls are. If I blew a call, I’d give away our presence and the rest of the clan might well think we were the Roman gang with Culann. I’d also give our presence away to the Romans- if they’re in hearing distance, that is. They’d know to avoid us. The last thing we want is two groups of friends blundering into a fight with each other while the enemy gets away.”

The light is beginning to fade ever so slightly. We move off again, still following the trail.