[Arry]

Wulfham

Brand knelt down by the water's edge, a large leather pouch open by his side. He’d gathered some moss and was dipping it into the cold river and then wringing out what extra moisture he could. He began to layer it in the pouch with the first of the fish they’d caught. Dorran and Leod were further down from him, checking the lines.

From behind him, he heard the soft crunch of boot-steps against the sandy, pebbly shore. ‘Done with the horses so soon?’ he called, still intent on the covering the last layer of trout. ‘Grab the net, why don’t you,’ he went on. ‘We’ll give the big pool a try . . .’ He stood up, wiping his wet hand on his thighs, and turned round. A look of surprise crossed his face.

‘Oh! Sorry! I thought you were Vaenosa, come back to help.’ A smile lightened his features. ‘Can I do something for you, Athwen?’