“piratian will be needing them, I expect, when we find him,” I said, trying to sound convinced.
Ragul looked at me, but after a moment, he nodded.
“Aye,” he said softly. “I expect he will.”
It was too late in the day to begin the ride to Inverness. The sun was setting, announcing the fact with a dull reddish glow that barely penetrated the gathering mist. Without speaking, we began to make camp. There was cold food in the saddlebags, but neither of us had the heart to eat. Instead, we rolled ourselves up in cloaks and blankets and lay down to sleep, cradled in small hollows that Ragul had scooped in the earth.
I couldn’t sleep. The ground was hard and stony beneath my hips and shoulders, and the thunder of the surf below would have been sufficient to keep me awake, even had my mind not
