Alison was about to reply when she saw something that sent shivers down her spine. She pointed to a small island directly ahead.
'What's that?'
'Keep paddling, Sister. Act like you've seen nothing.'
Alison dipped her paddle and took a couple of strokes. There were things on the island. They looked like men but there was something very odd about them. She turned her head as she made the next stroke. This time she got a better view. Shields and body armour. Her instinct was to paddle into midstream. She took a stroke in that direction and heard Weasel.
'Nay. Keep going like I said.'
The boy was calm and collected. Alison felt silly. Tom had taught her the martial arts. He'd told her to recognise people who were good and Weasel was good. One day the boy would be a great leader of his people. She placed her paddle on her knees and let the current carry them forward.
The island loomed up. First mudflats then a tangle of willows. She glimpsed a military cloak and a shield emblazoned with a smiling face. But there was nothing friendly about it. The face was menacing ... the sort that enjoys inflicting pain.
She looked to Weasel for guidance.
He kept paddling as if nothing was happening. The men in the trees were soldiers but they were nothing like Fury's people. They must be the southerners Fury talked about. Tom had defeated them in battle. Now they were waiting in ambush. Their two coracles would be valuable assets.
'Keep your eyes forward, Sister.'
Weasel stuck his paddle into the water.
'Keep going.'
Alison stole another glimpse at the willows.
The grey-clad forms were more distinct now. Some were draped over branches. Others lay in pools of mud. Suddenly, she realised what the boy must have known all along. The soldiers weren't lying in ambush. They were dead and their heads were missing.
Fury came alongside. Alison expected him to be unnerved by the bodies but he was worried by something else. He pointed ahead, towards a junction of the waters.
'Can you see the boat?'
Weasel looked into the sun. 'I see it, brother. Under the clump of willows ... up where the channel divides ... four men in grey cloaks.
'Morgon's men.' Fury was deadly pale.
'We'd better get into the reeds where they can't follow.'
'We don't know they're Morgon's men,' 'They're wearing his cloaks.'
'Lots of warriors are wearing cloaks they've taken from the soldiers.' The boy spoke in a steady voice.
Fury wasn't listening. 'Be like the birds. Flee when danger threatens ... return when it's safe.'