“I feared you dead,” I whispered. People streamed by us, every eye on Llew. Some saluted him outright with heartfelt greetings and expressions of respect. Most were too awed to speak, however, and simply touched the back of their hands to their foreheads as they passed.

Llew smiled ruefully. “I should have told you what I intended,” he said. “I thought it best to goalone. 1 am sorry. It will not happen like that next time.”

“You mean to leave again?” I asked.

“Yes,” LIew replied, tensing again. “I am sorry, Tegid. That is how it must be. You understand.”

“But I do not understand,” I confessed.

“Then you will just have to accept what I am telling you.,’

“But you are telling me nothing.”

He made no reply, so I reached out and gripped his arm; it was rigid beneath my touch. “Llew, we are brothers, you and I. We have drunk from the same cup and I will not let you go again without hearing a better explanation than I have heard just now.”

Llew frowned unhappily, but he remained silent and turned his eyes to watch the departing Llwyddi. I could see it was hard for him, this decision he had made. He wanted to tell me, I think, but simply did not know where or how to begin. So I suggested, “Say nothing yet. We will wait until the others have gone ahead and we will follow at a distance so that we will not be overheard. You can tell me as we walk and no one will disturb us.”

Liew agreed, and we waited until the last of the procession had started back through Glyn Du. Then we struck off after them, walking a long while in silence before Llew found the words he sought.

“I am sorry, Tegid,” he said. “I should have told you, but I thought you would prevent me.”

22

“Prevent you from leaving?”

“From doing what I had to do-what I must do,” he said, and I could feel the turmoil seething within him. I made to speak a soothing word, but he prevented me, saying, “No, Tegid, not yet. I have to say this.”

He was quiet a little longer. We listened to the soft swish of our feet through the long grass. Ahead, the first of the procession had reached the entrance of the glen and were dousing their torches in the stream. By the time we came to the place, all that remained was the lingering scent of steam and smoke. The procession had moved out into the Vale of Modornn. A pale moon had risen and we could see, drawn in silver on the darkness of the valley floor, the long lines of walkers stretching out before us.