"They will return. I must go.'

'I took you for a bright lad, a boy with wit. If you leave here now, what will happen?'

'I am not a fool, Master Revelation. But what will happen will still happen an hour from now, or a day. I cannot cross the entire South Saxon without being seen. And I do not want you to be slain with me. Thank you for your kindness.'

'As you will, but eat! It is the first rule of the soldier.'

Cormac settled his back against the wall and accepted the bread and cheese he was offered.

The food was welcome, as was the cool water from the man's leather-covered canteen.

'How is it that you, a Saxon, have such a sword?'

'It is mine.'

'I am not disputing its ownership. I asked how you came by it.'

'It was my father's.'

'I see. Obviously a fine warrior. The blade is of a steel that comes only from Hispania.'

'He was a great warrior; he killed six men on the day I was born.'

'Six? Truly skilled. And he was a Saxon?' 'I do not know. He died that day and I was raised by ... by a friend.' Grysstha's face leapt to Corm-ac's mind and for the first time since his death tears flowed. The boy cleared his throat and turned away. 'I am sorry, I ... I am sorry.' Choking sobs fought their way past his defences; he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

'In life, if one is lucky, there are many friends. You are lucky, Cormac. For you have found me.'

'He's dead. They killed him, because he spoke up for me.'

The man's hand moved to Cormac's forehead. 'Sleep now and we will speak later, when the danger is past.'

As Revelation's fingers touched his brow, a great drowsiness flowed over the boy like a warm blanket. . . And he slept without dreams.

He awoke in the night to find himself covered by a thick woollen blanket, his head resting on a folded cloak. Rolling over, he saw Revelation sitting by a small fire, lost in thought.

'Thank you,' said Cormac. 'It was my pleasure. How do you feel?' 'Rested. The hunters?'

'They gave up and returned to their homes. I expect they will come back in the morning with hounds. Are you hungry?' Revelation lifted a copper pot from the fire, stirring the contents with a stick. 'I have some broth, fresh rabbit, dried beef and herbs.' He poured a generous portion into a deep wooden bowl and pa.s.sed it to the boy. Cormac accepted it gratefully.

'Are you on a pilgrimage?' he asked, between mouthfuls.

'Of a kind. I am going home.'

'You are a Briton?'

'No. How is the broth?'

'Delicious.'

'Tell me of Grysstha.'

'How do you know the name?'

The bearded man smiled. 'You mentioned it in your sleep. He was your friend?'

'Yes. He lost his right hand fighting the Blood King. After that he was a goatherd; he raised me and I was like his son.'

'Then you were his son; there is more to being parent than the ties of blood. Why do they hate you?'

'I don't know,' said Cormac, remembering Grysstha's dying words. 'Are you a priest?'

'What makes you think so?'

'I saw a priest of the White Christ once. He wore a habit like yours, and sandals. But he had a cross of wood he wore on his neck.'

'I am not a priest.'

'A warrior, then?' said Cormac doubtfully, for the man carried no weapons save a long staff that now lay beside him.

'Nor a warrior. Simply a man. Where were you heading?'

'Dubris. I could find work there.'

'For what are you trained?'

'I have worked in a smithy, a mill and a pottery. They would not let me work in the bakery.'

'Why?'

'I was not allowed to touch their food, but sometimes the baker would let me clean his rooms. Are you going to Dubris?'

'No. To Noviomagus to the west.'

'Oh.'

'Why not come with me? It is a pleasant walk and the company would be fine.'

'West is where my enemies are.'

'Do not concern yourselves with enemies, Cormac. They shall not harm you.'

'You do not know them.'

"They will not know you. Look!' From his backpack the man pulled a mirror of polished bra.s.s. Cormac took it and gasped, for staring back at him was a dark-haired youth, thin- lipped and round of face.

'You are a nigromancer' he whispered, fear rising.

'No,' said the man softly. 'I am Revelation.'

Despite his shock. Cormac struggled to think through the choices facing him. The stranger had not harmed him, had allowed him to keep his sword and had treated him kindly. But he was a sorcerer and this alone was enough to strike terror into the boy's heart. Suppose he wanted Cormac for some ghastly blood sacrifice, to feed his heart to a demon? Or as a slave?

And yet if Cormac tried to reach Dubris alone, he would be hunted down and slain like a mad dog.

At least if the sorcerer had evil plans for him, they were not plans for today.

'I will travel with you to Noviomagus,' he stated.

'A wise choice, young Cormac,' said Revelation, rising smoothly and gathering his belongings. He sc.r.a.ped the pot and bowl clean with a handful of scrub gra.s.s and returned them to his back-pack. Then, without a backward glance, he set off in the moonlight towards the west.

Cormac joined him, struggling to match the man's long stride as they walked out of the forested hills and across the dales of the South Saxon. At midnight Revelation stopped in a sheltered hollow and lit a fire, using an ornate tinder-box that fascinated Cormac. Of silver, it was embossed with a fire-breathing dragon. Revelation tossed it to the boy, then added twigs to the tiny blaze, feeding it to greater strength.

'It was made in Tingis, in the north of Africa, by an old Greek named Melchiades. He loves to create works of art around items we use every day. It is an obsession with him, but I love his work.' Cormac opened the box carefully. Inside was a sprung lever in the shape of a dragon's head; in the mouth was a sharp-edged flint. When the lever was depressed the flint ran along a serrated iron grille, causing a shower of sparks.

'It is beautiful.'

'Yes. Now make yourself useful and gather some wood.' Cormac handed back the box and moved among the trees, gathering wind-fall fuel. When he returned Revelation had spread ferns on the ground by the fire for a soft bed. The tall traveller built up the blaze and then lay down under his blanket; he was asleep within seconds. Cormac sat beside him for a while, listening to the sounds of the night.

Then he too slept.

Soon after dawn the travellers set off once more, after a breakfast of fresh bread and cheese. How the bread could be fresh worried Cormac not at all now that he knew his companion was a man of magic. Anyone who could alter another man's face and hair would have no difficulty with creating a tasty loaf!

The riders came into sight just before noon, behind a dog-handler with six leashed wolfhounds. As the dogs spotted the two travellers they bounded forward, baying furiously. Their strength dragged the handler from his feet and he was forced to release the ropes as they sped onwards.

'Stand still,' ordered Revelation. He raised his staff and waited as the hounds closed with ferocious speed, fangs bared for the attack.

'Down!' he bellowed and the hounds ceased their growling and halted before him. 'Down, I said!' Obediently the dogs dropped to their haunches as the five hors.e.m.e.n cantered forward. They were led by Agwaine, his brother Lennox behind him. The other three were carles from Calder's hall, grim-eyed men bearing hand-axes.

The red-faced, mud-spattered dog-handler gathered the trailing leashes and pulled the dogs back into line.

'Good day,' said Revelation, leaning forward on his staff. 'Hunting?'

Agwaine touched his heels to his horse and rode close to Cormac. 'We are seeking a boy around this lad's age, wearing a similar tunic.'

'A red-haired lad?'

'You have seen him?'

'Yes. Is he a runaway?'

'What he is is no business of yours,' snapped Agwaine.

'Come, boy,' Revelation told Cormac and walked on, threading his way through the riders.

Cormac followed swiftly.

'Where do you think you're going?' shouted Agwaine as he hauled on the reins, turning his horse and cantering to block Revelation's path.

'You are beginning to irritate me, young puppy. Move aside.'

'Where is the boy?'

Revelation raised his hand suddenly and Agwaine's horse shied, tipping the youth to the gra.s.s. Revelation walked on.

'Take him!' yelled Agwaine and the three Saxon carles dismounted and ran forward.

Revelation swung to face them, once more leaning on his staff.

The men approached warily. The staff lanced upwards to connect with the nearest man's groin and with a strangled scream he dropped his axe and fell to his knees. Revelation blocked a wild-axe blow and his staff thundered against a bearded chin, pole-axing a second warrior. The third looked to Agwaine for orders.

'I would think twice before hunting the boy,' said Revelation. 'From what I have seen here, you would have trouble tackling a wounded fawn.'

'Ten gold pieces,' said Agwaine, lifting a leather pouch from his saddlebag and tipping the coins into his hand.

'Ah, now that is a different matter, young sir. The boy told me he was heading for Dubris. I last saw him yesterday, on the high path.'

Agwaine dropped the money back into his pouch and rode away.

'No more than I would expect from a Saxon,' said Revelation, smiling. He gathered up his pack and strolled towards the west with Cormac running alongside him.

'I thought you said you were no warrior?'

"That was yesterday. Who was that young man?'

'Agwaine, son of Calder.'

'I dislike him intensely.'

'So do I. Had it not been for him, Grysstha would still be alive.'

'How so?'

'He has a sister, Alftruda. She put her arms around me, so Agwaine and his brothers attacked me. That's why.'

'A childish squabble? How can that cause a man's death?'

'It is the law. I am not allowed to strike any villager, not even to protect myself.'

'A strange law, Cormac. Does it apply only to you?'

'Yes. How far is Noviomagus?'

'Three days away. Have you ever seen a Roman town?'

'No. Are there palaces?'

'I think for you there will be. And once there, I can purchase some clothes for you and a scabbard for your father's sword.'

Cormac looked up at the grey-haired traveller. 'Why are you being so kind to me?'