the rain. The mast was lowered quickly and soundings taken. Then the anchor was dropped and the sail lashed across the ship, providing shelter but turning the world dark.
‘Join us beneath the blanket, darling?’ shouted one of the warriors to Adisla.
She said nothing, just huddled into the side of the boat for shelter. The cloak at least kept her warm, and the sail kept her dry, though the stink of the men under the cover was terrible and the dark made her wonder how well Haarik would be able to guard her.
Now the motion of the ship was frightful, a regular and relentless rise and fall that seemed to leave her stomach at the bottom of the wave while her head was sent to the top. She couldn’t help but retch and vomit. Her mouth felt dry and she was terribly thirsty, but she wouldn’t ask for water.
Adisla lifted the side of the sail and looked out around her. The light was jellyfish grey, the sea a gentle but stomach-turning swell.
She thought of her mother, she thought of Vali — she knew she would never see him again — and she thought of the wolfman. Had he survived the attack?
She tried to remember the words of the prayer to Freya: ‘For the love I’ve known, lady, receive me.’
Adisla lifted back the edge of the sail and slipped over the side.
27
The going was hard down the coast. Vali felt he couldn’t risk stopping at any farmstead or fisherman’s hut in case word went back to Forkbeard of the direction he had taken, so the men slept on beaches or in caves as they hugged the shore south. The advantage of the enduring daylight was that they could rest in shifts, Bragi working the sail for a time, Vali taking over when the warrior became tired. The wolfman could not sail or row, so he just sat, his head on his knees, staring at his feet and looking miserable.
Feileg proved a much better asset on land. He was an accomplished forager, bringing back seabird eggs and bitter plants to chew. So they ate well enough, supplementing the wolfman’s food with seaweed and roots from the surrounding countryside. Water was easy to find; in fact, when it rained they had rather too much of it.
Vali wanted to get on, so he only stretched the sail across the boat as a shelter when the rain was at its heaviest. The rest of the time he just worked the bailing pan as hard as he could. They were frequently soaked but making progress, and that was the important thing.
This was hostile territory but their little fishing boat attracted less notice than a longship. Still, they had to be careful, rounding the lands of the Agder and the Westfold, sprinting across the bright broad bay of Vingulmarken and over to Alvheim.
Then it was threading their way through the islands to Denmark and their destination — the trading town of Haithabyr. This was where the Danes would have taken a slave. They were in constant peril. They had to keep the coast in sight for navigation but this meant they risked being seen. Vali thought it would be a bored king who would launch a drakkar to catch some fishermen, but then again kings did get bored.
The weather was rough at times but they were prepared, beaching the little boat, inverting it to use as a shelter and sitting out the high winds for a few days until the going was safe again. Vali knew that even if Forkbeard had sent a longship after them, he’d be no keener to sail in bad weather. Longships could strike across the open sea but, given the choice, clung to the coast and beached if they saw a storm coming rather than risk swamping.
The boat seemed to crawl through the islands, though they were glad of them, the many coves and inlets providing good beaching and hiding places. And navigation was easy if circuitous at points as Bragi had travelled this way before. Once or twice they had to go west when their destination was south, but it was a small price to pay to avoid the open sea. Much of the journey was rowed, but they were following a trade route so the currents and the winds were favourable. From their final stop on a beach they could see a long promontory, a trail of smoke from a line of campfires stretching along it.
‘Is this the town?’ said Vali. ‘It’s no bigger than Eikund.’
Bragi laughed. ‘That’s just the bjorkey at the mouth. That’s our first problem.’
Vali had never heard the expression before so he asked what a bjorkey was.
‘It’s a collecting point,’ said Bragi. ‘If two big ships want to exchange goods then there’s no point them going all the way into port. They’ll do it at the mouth of the inlet. Also, if a ship is on its way somewhere else it can just pick up or drop what it has to here without wasting time stopping.’
Vali found such haste difficult to believe. Who didn’t have time to stop? What could be so urgent that you had to ply your trade routes as if pursued?
‘Riches,’ said Bragi as if reading his mind. ‘The first sheep at the trough drinks deepest. You don’t want to turn up at a port with a cargo of whetstones if someone else has done the same the day before. These merchants want us to beg for their wares.’
In other circumstances Vali might have found Bragi’s words exciting — a glimpse into a world that he knew nothing about. As it was, they just added to the sense of uncertainty he was feeling — of going into a situation unprepared. The vulnerability he felt did not come from the immediate threat of the Danes. Ever since his time in the mire he had felt fragile, slightly removed from himself, not fully in the present. Still, he couldn’t help wondering what else Bragi knew that he could tell him. Up till now the old man had only ever seemed to want to talk about battles, and Vali had made the mistake of assuming that was all he had to say.
‘Do you want me to pick a few holes in your plan?’ said Bragi as they got back into the boat and prepared to go across.
‘Go on.’
‘Well, we have stolen clothes of the Rygir nobility. The Danes have just attacked the Rygir and therefore could be considered to be at war with them. Haithabyr is in Denmark, which — the last time I checked — was full of Danes. Now I’m not a deep thinker like yourself but it strikes me that, should we turn up as we are, then we may as well put on the manacles ourselves, to save everybody the bother of a struggle. Do you see what I mean?’
‘There are problems with what I’m proposing to do,’ said Vali, ‘but I don’t think we’ll have any trouble. They have quite a few separate kingdoms. We’ll be all right as long as Haarik isn’t there.’
‘If he is?’
Vali shrugged. The wolfman said nothing, just sat staring at the sea as if he hated it.
Bragi said, ‘Well, assuming we get past the being-cut-down-where-we-stand part, what then? They’ll know that they can hold us for ransom or enslave us — both meaning a good profit. They may even think they can get the berserk back.’
‘The berserk is a mercenary and also not a Dane,’ said Vali. ‘They won’t bother about him.’
‘So what are we going to do?’
‘Make use of what we have.’
‘Two fine swords, one byrnie, a sling and a good set of teeth on your fellow here,’ said Bragi.
‘You’re missing the clothes,’ said Vali, ‘and this.’ He held up a stubby black stick he had taken from the purse at Signiuti’s belt. ‘This is as good a piece of eye dark as I’ve ever seen.’
‘What good will that do?’
‘Well, if we’re going to look like Rygir jarls, then I suppose we had better act like them. I’m going to ask for compensation for the raid.’ He held out the stick. ‘If you would be so good, Bragi, as to try to make me look as if I’m trying to please the vanities of a court, not like I’ve come to burn the place to the ground. Best not try it as we go across. I don’t trust your hand on land; on water I would fear for my eyes. And when we get there treat me like a prince — a bit more bowing and scraping.’
‘Let’s hope we can make them understand us.’
‘I speak their language,’ said Vali. ‘Not all my talk at Ma Disa’s house was wasteful.’
Bragi shrugged and took the stick.
As Bragi applied the kohl Vali spoke to Feileg. ‘And you just tell them you’re our priest. It had occurred to me to sell you, but I should think the byrnie will be enough to buy her freedom — if she’s there.’
‘If the girl is there, I will take her,’ said the wolfman.
