Alexander stared. “He was called back? I don’t see anyone waiting there.”

“No, sir.” Brand was contemptuous. “He went back. He must ’a seen the fighting, and such as he won’t come near till all’s done. He won’t come over again till he sees us gone. So what’s to do now?”

Alexander glanced down at Uwain. The latter was trying to drag himself to his feet, protesting that the wound was nothing, he had had worse at hunting, he was good for a day’s hard riding … but the prince put out a hand to press him back.

“No, wait. Rest there a minute.” Then to Brand: “We must get rid of the bodies. If their horses are still about, turn them loose. If other travellers come this way, we don’t want questions asked, not yet. At least you needn’t go into Cornwall now. This one first. You take the heels. That way, I think.”

Between them they dragged the dead men off the road into the woods. There was a quarry, overgrown with brambles and bushes, where road-metal had once been dug, and here they found a shallow ditch where the bodies could lie. With daggers and their hands they scrabbled loose stones and gravel to cover them. The roan horse, grazing near, they caught, stripping it of its harness, and sending it off with a thwack from the flat of a sword. The other horse had gone. Then they went back to Uwain, and helped him into the saddle.

There was still no sign of the ferry, “But all the better,” said Alexander, who had had time to think. “If we crossed to find the tavern and lodge there, the news of this would run the length and breadth of Dumnonia almost before nightfall. As it is, all the ferryman saw was a skirmish at the edge of the woods, and when he does bring himself to come over, I doubt if he’ll look further.”

“And Uwain?”

“There was a good-looking tavern in Blestium. We’ll get him back there – you can manage that far, Uwain? Good man. We’ll get you there and get that leg seen to. We can lie up there for a day or two, to see how it does.”

“Your lady mother won’t be too pleased.”

“That’s true, but you can tell her how it happened. There was no chance to do otherwise. It’s like the first fight – as if a sort of fate was at work. And it would have been my fate, had it not been for your sword, Brand. See that you tell my mother that, Uwain.”

“I will, Prince. But you? Are you not going home with us?”

“Not yet. I – my mother will know where I am going.”

“Not into Cornwall?” said Brand sharply.

“No, no. I promised not to cross that border. Just tell her that I follow my fortune. She will understand.”

It is possible that all three of them added, to themselves, the simple prayer I hope. But though the two troopers did exchange a doubtful look, they said no more. And at length, in the light of a crimson sunset, they came in sight of the Roman bridge, and the welcome lights of the tavern pricking out yellow in the dusk.