Quest for the Faradawn

CHAPTER XVII

The animals stood on the clifftop, gazing out in wonder over the sea. There was a strong wind and the surface was quite rough and choppy so that hundreds of little white horses raced towards the shore, gaining speed and strength as they got nearer and finally crashing down on the little rocky beach below where they were standing. At either end of the beach a huge column of rocks jutted out into the sea and as the waves smashed against them fountains of spray were thrown up violently to fall in little harmless showers all around. Sometimes the sun caught the spray and shone a rainbow through it which lasted for no longer than the blinking of an eye and then was gone. Nab and Beth stood with their arms around each other for the wind that blew their hair back from their faces was cold and the dampness of the marsh still clung to their bodies. The savage strength and might of nature, which is perceived inland but rarely seen, was here exposed, visible and awesome and, standing next to this vast, constantly moving mass, Nab felt very humble and small. His problems and worries seemed to be taken from him by the ceaselessly changing blue-green depths to be lost in the ripples and eddies of the water as it rushed in among the rocks. He was mesmerized by all this movement and he lost himself in the patterns and rhythms of the waves charging in and then retreating, charging in and retreating, on and on until he became one with the sea.

Beth, very cold but happy and relieved that their ordeal in the marsh was over, found herself looking at the elves as they stood scattered in ones and twos along the top of the cliff. Although Nab had told her about the wood elves of Ellmondrill she had been unprepared for the intense fascination which she felt towards them. She was entranced by them. ‘Elves,’ she said slowly to herself as if it was a magic chant, and then again, as if in disbelief that they were really there: ‘I’m with the elves’. Their existence, of course, is rumoured amongst the Urkku and Beth recalled some of the stories she had heard from her mother when she had been read to at night, but no one, not even the Eldron, believed that they really existed. Where the idea of elves came from no one could say but nevertheless they were dismissed as fantasy. Fantasy! Here they were with the golden sun glinting off their helmets and shields and their faces turned into the wind. The battle with the goblins had taken its toll and they were regaining their lost energy and strength at this, their Scyttel, so that they stood or sat in stillness and silence and let its power break over them. Beth stared at them, amazed that she could have been unaware of their existence for so long, and the sight of their fragile and delicate beauty pulled at her heart and brought tears of melancholy to her eyes. The other animals were sitting in a row alongside, all quietly looking out to sea, feeling the magic of this place and moment wash away the evil of the bog until they felt clean again and the awful memories had been blown away. Only the tall white figure of Golconda striding through the darkness like a bright star on a moonless night remained in their thoughts from their time in the marshes. He was whole again and, as they looked towards the horizon, sometimes, far out to sea, they thought they could see him flying low over the waves, his great wings slowly beating up and down and his long beak pointing forward to carve a way for himself through the air. Then, as they blinked, he was gone to reappear somewhere else.

Eventually, as the sun began to descend in the sky, Faraid stood up and producing a large horn-shaped shell from his belt, he blew upon it to produce a long low mournful sound which seemed to boom out over the sea long after he had removed the horn from his lips. He waited a while and then blew again and the call echoed and bounced off the cliffs and on to the rocks below and then rolled over the waves until it faded in the distance. This time there came an answering note from out at sea, forcing its way through the roar of the waves and the cry of the wind until it came to them where they stood; a sound full of sadness and suffering but not despair, for within its deep tones lay hope. The elves then stood up and began to move off along the cliff and Faraid came over to them.

‘You look better,’ he said happily, for their eyes, which when he had found them in the bog had been flat and dull with misery were now sparkling and bright. The wind and sun had also dried them out and the mud and dirt on their coats and on the garments worn by Nab and Beth had turned to little flakes which they had easily removed. Brock, who hated to be dirty, had spent a long time cleaning himself and then he and Sam had groomed each other so that now their fur shone; the one deep and black, the colour of ebony, and the other, the gold of the sun on an autumn afternoon. Warrigal’s feathers lay even and perfectly placed and Perryfoot stood on his hind legs with his ears erect and his body quivering with alertness.

‘Come,’ Faraid said, smiling. ‘Saurelon is waiting for us on the Isle of Elgol,’ and he pointed to a little rocky island a short way out from the beach against which the waves did not pound with the fury they showed elsewhere but, rather, lapped against the sheer rocky sides. It reminded Beth of a three-tiered cake; the lower one, always under the water, was dark brown and shiny with seaweed; the middle layer was fawn-coloured from the barnacles which encrusted it and set in amongst the fawn were little blue-black clusters of mussels, like currants. The third layer, on top, was dark green from sea mosses, lichens and mildews. At one end a group of black and white oyster-catchers was sitting on an outcrop of rock until suddenly they all took off uttering their shrill angry cries. Elegant long-necked cormorants flew fast and low over the water between Elgol and the shore and then vanished out of sight around the headland as quickly as they had appeared, and always, overhead, the white gulls wheeled and cried, floating on the air currents and circling high up in the blue sky.

The elves had now reached a spot on the cliff from which a steep, narrow path descended to the beach and they were already going down it.

‘Come,’ said Faraid again, and he led the animals to the path. At first it sloped away quite gradually over a bank of short grass but then suddenly it fell away very sharply as it took them down the rocky cliff. Faraid went first to lead the way and the others followed in single file as the path zig-zagged down along little ledges and outcrops. Warrigal flew down alongside them with a slight air of superiority for he was relieved not to have to use the path; in a number of places fresh water seeped out of the rock and ran across it leaving it very muddy and slippery and he watched as the others gingerly stepped across. Of all the animals Beth was the most frightened for she hated heights and at times, crossing over these treacherous patches of mud on the narrow path with a sheer drop on one side, the wind blowing at her from the sea and with only tiny little handholds in the cliff on the other side for her to hang on to, she was terrified, even though Nab, who had gone first, waited with a hand outstretched to grab hers as soon as she came within reach.

As they got further down the path the roar of the waves grew louder and they felt the presence of the sea like a great protective barrier in front of them. Their hearts quickened with excitement as they descended the last few steps and finally, with a sense of relief and joy, they jumped down with a clatter on to the rounded stones and pebbles of the beach. The sea looked very different at eye-level; up on the cliffs they had observed it as if they were looking at a painting but now they were in the painting, a part of it, totally absorbed in the sounds and smells all around. The limitless energy and strength of the sea seemed to fill them until they felt as if they would explode. They were seized by an irresistible urge to run along the beach, and suddenly Sam took off, racing as fast as he could down to the edge of the sea and then speeding away through the shallows where the waves broke on the shore. The others ran after him; Perryfoot racing Brock and Nab chasing after Beth. They splashed along through the water with the wind and salt spray in their faces until they reached the rocks at the end of the beach and then they ran back to where Warrigal and Faraid were standing waiting. Their eyes shone with happiness and Faraid laughed at them as they stood panting in front of him.

‘I am pleased that you enjoy the sea,’ he said, and the sound of his laughter mingled with the waves and the cries of the sea birds until it seemed as if the whole beach was laughing with him. He led them off in the opposite direction from where they had run and took them towards the rocks at the other end. The pebbles under their feet rattled as they walked and nearer to the sea they were still shiny and wet from the retreating tide so that, unlike the dull greys and blacks and whites of the large stones higher up the beach these smaller pebbles, worn rounded and smooth by the sea, shone like jewels. There were deep reds and greens, oranges and jet blacks; some were speckled or lined or were all black except for a broad or narrow band of purest white running around them or forming a circle or an oval at one end. Others were special because of their shape; perfect rounds or ovals or else shaped like miniature mountains. Nab and Beth kept stopping to pick them up and look at them, each one unique and precious, and wished that they could have kept them all. Reluctantly they threw them down, to be lost for ever to the sea.

Finally they reached the rocks and began to clamber over them. At first they were dry and the barnacles gave them a good grip so that the animals found no difficulty, but as the rocks reached further into the sea they became covered in brown and green seaweed which made them wet and slippery so that Perryfoot, Brock and Sam particularly found them very hard to walk on. They were used to the woods and the fields and they had no idea of the techniques to use in this vastly different world. Nab and Beth were able to reach and stretch so that for them it was relatively easy, but they had to keep waiting for the others to catch up or go back to help them, much to the animals’ distaste, by lifting them down or carrying them from one rock to another. Their pads, which were used to the earth, became sore and hurt from the sharp barnacles and sometimes they stood on a limpet by accident so that the conical shell stuck up into their foot painfully and they almost slipped in their efforts to get it off. Soon they were so far out on the rocks that they were able to look back on the beach behind them and see the waves racing past at their side. Between the rocks, the pools left by the sea got bigger and deeper as the tide came further in, and when they turned round, rocks which they had walked across had become covered by the water so that they were cut off and could not have gone back even if they had wanted to and the thought of this gave Nab a thrill of excitement. In the pools the seaweed swirled and danced with the rhythm of the sea and as they clambered round, little fish darted quickly for cover under its protective fronds. Some of the pools now were so wide that it was easier for Nab and Beth to wade through carrying the others and this they did; Beth anxious that the water would not go over her wellington tops and Nab enjoying the sensation of the swirling water round his ankles.

Eventually they rounded a large boulder and saw Faraid standing just ahead with a few of the elves gathered at his side. The rocks had come to an end and ahead of them was only sea stretching out to the horizon; a long straight line in the far distance which was tinged with gold where the sun had just started to sink down behind it. Then to their surprise, they saw the seals, their grey heads bobbing up and down in the water. The seals were equally surprised at seeing the animals and, being intensely curious, were unable to take their eyes off them and stared until, feeling they had overstepped the bounds of politeness, they swung round in the water with their backs to them, but then seemingly unable to contain their insatiable nosiness they turned round and began to stare again, their round black deep-set eyes peering out from shiny domed heads. Faraid called to them and they came up close to the rocks, whereupon the remaining elves clambered on to their backs and the seals sped off across the sea to Elgol.

‘Is that how we get across?’ Brock asked Faraid anxiously as he carefully made his way across to the rock where the others were standing. The elf turned and smiled.

‘There is no other way unless you can swim,’ he said, and the badger groaned inwardly.

‘I’ll carry you with me,’ said Nab, laughing, but Brock replied forcefully:

‘I’ll manage on my own.’

Perryfoot had been carried for most of the last part of their walk over the rocks and Sam with his longer legs had been able to manage more easily than the badger but Brock had declined any help, determined to make it on his own. Now here he was confronted by another situation which taxed all his fortitude. It was all right for Warrigal, he thought as he looked at the bird perched on a rock staring out to sea. Warrigal, however, was not as unconcerned as Brock thought: he was thinking to himself that he had never before flown over such a large expanse of water and with such violent and gusty winds ready to pull him off balance. He watched a group of gulls and tried to pick up any hints he could, admiring the way in which they used the wind rather than trying to fight against it.

Nab and Beth sat down together on a rock at the very edge of the sea and stared down into the grey depths. They were so far out that the waves did not break against the rocks; instead the water rose and fell, reminding Nab of the words of Wychnor which he seemed to have heard so long ago: ‘And in joy at his creation he invested the sea with a fragment of his power so that it heaved and rolled even as he breathed.’ He watched hypnotized by the movement as the water funnelled between the rocks where they had been worn smooth and round, rushing in furiously and then being sucked out again almost as fast as the waves withdrew for another onslaught. Then out at sea he heard once again that long mournful sound they had heard on the cliff top answering Faraid’s horn and looking up he saw the seals returning. So it was they who had made that noise: somehow it suited them for these graceful creatures seemed to Nab to be the embodiment of all the suffering of the animals while at the same time containing within them their essential qualities: purity, innocence and strength and now, perhaps, a new element — hope. Swimming on their own they spent a lot of time under the water; their heads disappearing suddenly and then reappearing a little while later somewhere else, totally unexpectedly. Soon they were by the side of the rocks, breathing heavily and occasionally snorting out of their nostrils so that their long whiskers quivered, and all the time staring at this strange but very interesting assortment of land creatures who, for some reason, seemed rather nervous and wary of the water.

Nab turned to Beth. ‘I’ll help you down,’ he said, trying to appear brave and unconcerned but in truth as apprehensive and frightened as everyone else. Beth in fact was perhaps the least nervous because she had been out in a yacht once or twice with her father when they had been on holiday with some friends who lived by the sea, and also she was able to swim quite well. Holding on to Nab’s hand she climbed backwards down the rock until she felt her boots in the water and then she managed to get one of her legs on the other side of the seal who had swum over and was using his flippers to keep himself steady alongside the rock. She lowered herself down on to his back and then with her legs wrapped tightly round him she let go of Nab’s hand and found herself bobbing up and down very comfortably except for the fact that her jeans were wet up to her knees and felt cold and clammy against her legs.

‘I’ll go with you,’ said Perryfoot urgently and Beth smiled up at him.

‘All right, you lazy old thing: hop on,’ she said, and Nab handed him down to her. Beth held him cradled underneath her while she bent down and put both her arms around the seal’s neck so that her face was resting on his back just a few inches from the water.

‘No pride,’ thought Brock to himself, but of all the animals Perryfoot was the one who, with his short legs, would have been least able to cling to a seal and cross alone.

Beth tried to say something to the seal but he appeared not to hear her. Faraid called down, ‘They don’t speak your language; they only know the language of the sea. I’ll tell him when to go. Are you ready?’

She replied that she was and Faraid spoke to the seal which suddenly took off across the water. At first Beth found it hard to hang on because he was so slippery and she panicked when she got a mouthful of salt water but once she had got used to the powerful rhythm of his swimming and was able to more or less guess when they would hit a wave so that she could hold her breath, she began to enjoy it. The sea under her face sped past in a blue-green mass of ripples, and looking back she could see the white foaming wake left by the seal’s flippers. She turned her head sideways so that she could just see the sky where it met the sea on the horizon and as they got further out she was able to see other bays and beaches along the coast. It appeared to be deserted except for the occasional cottage perched up in the mountains which rose from the sea like towering fortresses. She wondered whether anybody might be looking out over the water and what they would think if they spotted her; a girl in a brown cloak riding on the back of a seal. Pinch themselves to make sure they were not dreaming, she thought; but they were now too far out to be seen clearly anyway.

‘How are you feeling?’ she called to Perryfoot, but he could not hear her above the roar of the sea. His eyes were shut tight and he was shivering with fright; his legs splayed out across the seal’s dark slippery back and the nails of his paws fully extended to try to get a grip.

She turned her head so that she could look back at the others on the rocks. They appeared to be just about to set off. Brock, having tried to sit on the back of one of the seals, had fallen off and had to be hauled out of the water by Nab, so he had now condescended to ride with Faraid and was sitting astride the seal looking extremely uncomfortable with the elf behind him holding him on. Sam was riding with Nab. Like Beth he had been to the sea once before with the Urkku who had owned him and so it was not altogether strange. In fact he used to swim in the ponds around Silver Wood and he had been thinking of trying to swim across to Elgol but he did not like the look of the waves and it was a long way from the shore. The knowledge that he could swim if he fell off, however, gave Sam a lot of confidence and this helped Nab feel better as he sat shakily on the seal’s back behind him.

‘Ask him to go slowly,’ he shouted above the waves to Faraid, and the elf called something to the seal before they moved away from the rock.

‘Sam,’ shouted Nab, ‘sit still,’ for the dog was wriggling around in front of him trying to get his mouth in the water so that he could play at catching the waves.

‘Don’t worry; I’ll hang on to you if you slip,’ Sam said, laughing.

Overhead Warrigal was flying against the wind and experiencing some difficulty with the strong air-currents until a cormorant came up and helped him by showing him how to fly low over the water where the wind was less gusty and more constant. The owl felt that the nearer the water he flew the less room would he have to correct any errors before he was in the sea, but when he tried it he found that it worked and soon he was skimming above the waves with enormous pleasure, alongside the others who looked at him enviously.

Soon even Brock and Nab relaxed a little and began to enjoy the ride. They became exhilarated with the sight of nothing in front of them except the vast ocean twinkling in the late afternoon sunlight and their hearts lifted with the feel of the wind in their hair and the spray on their faces. They anticipated the slight thud as the seal met each wave and braced themselves with excitement for the next one. Only Perryfoot, small and completely out of the element of which he was master, remained so frightened that he was unable to even open his eyes.

Soon they were close to the landward side of Elgol and began to ride around the edge of it slowly, causing other seals who were basking on little ledges in the rock to look up as they passed and call out to their companions. The travellers stared with fascination at the steep sides of the rock; thickly encrusted with layer upon layer of barnacles and the mass of seaweed that floated like a protective curtain around its base. Soon they rounded a corner so that they were completely out of sight of the shore; ahead of them lay a tiny bay surrounding a pebbly beach on which a number of elves were standing. The seals swam towards the beach and as they got nearer the visitors saw, standing a little taller than the elves and surrounded by them, a figure who began to wave to them slowly. He had long white hair falling around his shoulders and down to his waist and his white beard tumbled like a waterfall over his chest. The seals were unable to swim right up on to the beach and they stopped a little way out; Nab and Faraid got off their backs into the sea and, while Nab carried Brock and Beth took Perryfoot, who had begun to recover from his ordeal, Sam swam alongside them. Warrigal, not wishing to arrive on the beach before the others, flew next to them slowly, enjoying his new-found skill and just missing the tops of the waves.

Finally they splashed their way out of the water and stood wet and shivering in the cold March wind that blew off the sea. Faraid led them up the slight slope over the pebbles until they met the host of elves. The crowd parted and through the passage left for him came the tall white-haired figure. He walked slowly and with a slight stoop and as he came they saw that his face was brown and weatherbeaten and the skin creased and seamed like an old apple. He stopped in front of them and looked at them through two bright blue eyes which sparkled and shone with wisdom and merriment so that the youth which was in his soul seemed in some strange way to complement the age of his body.

Around his shoulders and down to the beach hung a long cape which seemed to match the colour of the sea exactly so that at that moment it was of a deep dark greyish hue interspersed with flecks of white. Later they learned that it did in fact change as the sea changed so that out at sea he was almost invisible. Around his head he wore a thin band of silver with a simple dark green stone set in it at the front.

‘Saurélon; Lord of the Seas,’ said Faraid, and he ushered the animals a little closer to him so that they were standing, rather nervously, in a line. Although Saurélon’s figure represented an awesome and intensely magical image, they were not frightened of him. He came to each one of them in turn and put his hand on their heads or held them by the shoulders while he looked into their faces and when he smiled at them their bodies seemed to glow with warmth as if the summer sun were shining. He came to Nab last and stood for a long time in front of him until it seemed as though he would stay for ever, and Nab thought that he could see tears forming in the corner of his eyes; but he never told anyone and it may only have been the reflection of the sun against the cloak.

‘We have waited for you a long time,’ he said, and in his voice was the music of the sea. ‘A long, long time. Come; follow me. You must be cold, hungry and tired after your ordeal in the marshes.’

The sun was now going down over the horizon and the sky was filled with the gold of evening. The white clouds that had been scudding about in the blue all day had now gone and the heavens were darkening. They followed Saurélon up the beach with the elves coming behind, and he led them into a large cave. It was dark at first and the crunching of their footsteps over the pebbles echoed loudly. Further in, the place smelt more and more strongly of wet seaweed, for the sun never reached here to dry out what the tide had left. Their eyes had grown more used to the darkness now and they could see the glistening walls of the cave and make out, running along both sides at about the height of Nab’s shoulder, a wide ledge in which the sea had gouged out little hollows. These now formed rock pools in which crimson and green sea anemones waved their delicate fronds and strands of red or brown seaweed floated gently. The bottom of many of these little pools was bright pink so that the mixture of colours was like a miniature garden and Nab and Beth were unable to resist stopping to look into them. They explored them with their fingers, delicately moving the forests of green seaweed and watching the little fish dart out to find another hiding place. Little bright yellow periwinkles crawled slowly along the bottom as if burdened down by the weight of their shells and once they saw a hermit crab tentatively sticking his pincers out of the empty whelk shell in which he had made his home.

The cave now opened out and became slightly larger. Saurélon stopped and the elves went off into various dark comers around the walls about their own business. Although they were quite a long way from the shore and were unable to see the beach the cave was remarkably light and the animals saw that the rock itself contained streaks of yellow and silver which shone and it was from these that the light came. On the far wall, the sea had carved a seat in the rock, the back and the arms of which had been worn smooth by innumerable tides.

‘My seat, when I’m here, which is not often enough,’ said Saurélon, and he took them over to it and sat down. ‘I am fond of it here,’he continued, ‘it is one of my chosen places. I was pleased when it was learnt that I was to meet you here in the land of Sheigra on the Isle of Elgol for little enough do I get the chance to come and I always enjoy it so.’ He stopped as if his mind had drifted off and he stared down at the ground in silence until the elves came over carrying food and drink in little shell bowls and handed them to the visitors before going back and fetching their own. As the elves moved to and fro Beth noticed that the silver light which had shone from them in the darkness of the cave entrance had faded in the light of this main part of the cave so that now they no longer sparkled but rather gave off a faint white glow similar to the light of the moon when it lingers on into morning or appears in late afternoon. Soon they were all sitting down on the damp pebbles of the cave floor eating and drinking busily for they were hungry, and the only sound that could be heard was the distant crashing of the sea on the shore and the clink of the shell goblets and plates.

The food was plain and simple, unlike the vast array of different dishes which had been presented to them by the wood elves and which had made Beth’s mouth water when Nab had described the feasts to her. Now they were given simply a bowl in which had been placed some carragheen and some kelp both of which had been turned into a kind of mulch and which tasted rather bitter, but there was also some delicate green sea lettuce which was crisp and had a touch of sweetness so that, eaten together, they were pleasant. The drink in their goblets was the same as that which Faraid had given them when they had first been rescued in the marsh and it tasted as good now as it had then, warming them through and through and washing the last vestiges of darkness from their minds. The travellers were more hungry than they had had time to realize for they had not eaten since before they entered Blore, and they had soon finished the contents of their bowls and finished their drink. Faraid, who was sitting next to them, beckoned to two other elves nearby who jumped up and took away the goblets and bowls to refill them. Once more this happened until finally they felt full.

When Saurélon was sure that they had eaten enough, he spoke.

‘Tell us of yourselves,’ he said. ‘Let us hear your story from the beginning, for although parts of it have come to our ears they are like parts of a mosaic which need to be fitted together to form a picture.’

The elves had stopped talking and were looking expectantly at the animals, and Saurélon was smiling down at them from his seat in the rock. Nab looked at Brock. ‘Come on,’ he whispered. ‘You must start. We’ll take over for the bits we each know best.’

Brock was reminded of the time he had had to speak at that Council Meeting so long ago in Silver Wood. He had had to tell the same story then as he was about to tell now but little had he known then how it would all turn out. If someone had said to him that he Would eventually be relating the story to Saurélon, Lord of the Sea, and a group of sea-elves on the Isle of Elgol in the land of Sheigra, he would have laughed at them. Tara would have been proud of him now; how he wished she was still alive and could be with him for it was her story as much as his. He looked across at Warrigal as he had that first time, and the owl, knowing what he was thinking, nodded at him in encouragement for he too remembered that Council Meeting very clearly when they had been trying to persuade Wythen and Bruin and Rufus and Sterndale and Pictor and the others to allow Nab to stay in the wood. He thought of them now, nearly all dead, and he wondered what had happened to old Wythen. Brock started his story and the owl listened carefully, trying hard not to interrupt if the badger missed something or got something slightly wrong, for amongst the animals it is the height of bad manners to interrupt a story while it is being told.

By the time the tale was finished the sound of the waves was echoing loudly in the cave for the tide had come a long way in. They had all told a part of the story, even Beth, who had talked about her life as an Urkku and of the times she had met Nab and of her flight with him away from her home to Silver Wood. There was silence when the tale was over and all that could be heard was the lapping of the sea against the sides of the cave. The elves, still lost in the wonder of the story, remained sitting motionless and quiet, staring in fascination at the travellers until finally Saurélon spoke.

‘The sea will soon be upon us. Come; you must be tired. Faraid will lead you to your cave and we shall meet again tomorrow. May you sleep the sleep of the dolphin.’

He got up slowly from his seat and made his way up some step-like grooves in the wall of the cave until he reached the wide ledge. He moved along this until he came to a spot where there was a groove for a seat and there he sat down. Faraid followed him up the steps and then beckoned to the visitors to follow him. When they reached the ledge there was a small opening in the rock and they saw the elf disappearing down it along a narrow passage. The roof was so low that only Warrigal and Perryfoot were able to walk upright and the others had to crawl along on their stomachs with only the silver glow shining from Faraid to show them where they were going. Perryfoot was last down the tunnel and before he went he looked back at the cave. All the elves were now sitting along the ledge looking down at the sea beneath them which was washing over the area where, a little while before, they had been sitting eating and telling their tale. The sound and smell of the sea filled everywhere. He turned away and instantly the roaring sound became muffled as he followed the others. The tunnel was only short and soon he emerged on to the floor of another cave, far smaller than the one they had left and much less deep, for although they were now standing against the back wall they could see out of the mouth of the cave quite clearly to the dark night sky outside and the waves crashing down on the pebbles just outside the entrance.

‘The sea never reaches this far,’ said Faraid.

‘When you awake tomorrow you will find that the rhythm of the waves has become as much a part of you as the sound of your own breath. I bid you a peaceful sleep.’ He smiled at them and was gone and the travellers were once more on their own, for the first time since the marshes. Now that they could relax they felt utterly exhausted and no sooner had they lain down than they sank into a deep and tranquil sleep with the sound of the waves outside on the shore soothing away their worries and the black curtain of the night sky, with a few twinkling stars shining brightly out of the darkness, forming a veil over the cave mouth.