14
Eoforwic, Deira. November 9, AD 642
The large raven hopped a few steps away from Wulfram and then launched itself into the air clumsily, black wings beating strongly at the air. Wulfram stood, hands on hips, watching absently as the bird flew away, his mind filled with the information he had gleaned from it.
The young Traveller whom the raven had spotted earlier was now heading northwards in the company of a human. The shock of finally seeing his face had etched it into his memory. Dark unruly hair, angled cheekbones, clear grey eyes.
He knew that face, or one very similar at any rate. The likeness was clear and unmistakable. And with that knowledge more questions arose about the Traveller, questions Wulfram would very much like answered.
He tamped down his impatience. Surely those
