Their vessel seemed a flurry of activity, with sails shifting and men running in what looked like total panic. Yet it was a well-choreographed panic, for the ship slid smoothly away from the dockside and headed out into the river. They turned up-stream to head north up the Talabec and appeared to come almost to a stand-still as they fought against the current before making headway once more, a small white wave building up under their prow.

"Now what?" asked Johannes.

"We wait." replied Sir Robert, "And we see what happens next"

For a number of days they saw no sign of Marc de Swandle's ship, although they passed many other vessels and had heard at Talabheim that it was not far before them. They had learnt before they left Altdorf that it was a two-masted schooner (whatever this may mean), which apparently made it more suited for the confines of the river where the winds could come from any angle - although it would not be as fast as their ship when the wind blew from behind.

Three days up the river, and he wind was not doing anything much from any angle. As the breeze had faded to a zephyr then died completely, the ship had sprouted giant oars - which the sailors called sweeps - to keep herself moving. Almost all the sailors were below, rowing, leaving Johannes and Sir Robert alone on the deck.

Johannes took this opportunity of privacy, for he did not feel the cabin they shared with Waltdorf to be truly private, to ask Sir Robert a question he had been mulling since the evening of the first day: "How do we know we won't pass them in the night?"

"They're not stopping in the night, that's why we can't stop." replied Sir Robert

"But what if they do? Or if they've just jumped ship, or something?"

"Marc de Swandle is heading north. We may catch him, or we may have to pursue on foot from Bechafen."

"Bechafen? Where did Bechafen come into this from?"

"He's heading for the Peak Pass, to cross into the land of the Kurgan. We can follow him on ship as far as Bechafen, then we need to ride up the river."

"How do you know he's going that way, not to Kislev then into the Northern Wastes, or across the High Pass?"

"I just know. I don't know how I know, or why I know, I just know. It's something to do with Fate I guess."

"Fate eh? What is it between you and this other Bretonnian - it's more than just rescuing national pride and fulfilling your quest, isn't it?"

"He's my grandfather. I'm fated to kill him - unless the Changer changes things of course"

"Woah! He is your grandfather? This is rather mixed up."