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Her hands trembled every night as Graul lit the wick, and she arched her palms above to shield it from the wind. She was happier than her husband. Gwennolar's spell defied the lantern and their tottering pains. Boats were lost, men perished as before. The people tried a new appeal. It was the women's turn to lay their grief at the King's door.
Graul lifted and set her before him on Rubh's crupper, and called to Gwennolar to follow him. But Gwennolar's horse, too, was spent, and in a little while he drew rein and lifted her, too, and set her on the stallion's broad back behind him. Then forward he spurred again and southward after the wolves with a pack fiercer than wolves shouting at Rubh's heels, nearer and yet nearer.
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