It was only a length of sacking made fast to two stout poles, and when they had hoisted me to their shoulders a blanket was thrown over me, and a roll of cloth from one of the bales set under my head, so that I might seem to be in comfort at least.
Then the band set out, and we went across the hills seaward and to the west until we saw Watchet below us.

There was a road somewhere close at hand, as I gathered, for we stopped, and some of the rabble crept onward to the crest of the hill and spied to see if it was clear.

It was so, and here all the band left us, and only Evan and the other two seeming merchants went on with their followers, who bore me and led the laden ponies.

The road had no travellers on it, as far as I could see, nor did we meet with a soul until we were close into the little town that the Norsemen had made for themselves at the mouth of a small river that runs between hills to the sea.
Maybe there were two score houses in the place, wooden like ours, but with strange carvings on the gable ends.

And for fear, no doubt, of the British, they had set a strong stockade all round the place in a half circle from the stream to the harbour.