Closer now, Harald called for us to row faster, and faster still. Already, my heart was pounding with the exertion; my breath came in raking gasps and I could feel the burning deep in my lungs. My hands were raw, and there was blood on the oar grip. The muscles of my back and shoulders were a knotted mass. Heedless of the pain, I plied my oar with grim determination, sweat pouring from me.
The dragonship, streaming rapidly through the waves, bore straightaway towards the raiders. I could hear the enemy yelling, and when I hazarded a look, I saw them scurrying around the bronze throwing tube, desperate to ready the foul instrument to spew again.
The dragonship was closing swiftly now; the pirates, believing themselves about to be rammed, braced for the impact, while their helmsman headed the enemy vessel directly onto us to force a glancing blow.
Now did Harald's daring show its genius, for at the last possible moment, he ordered Thorkel to turn hard aside. Then, lofting a war axe, he leapt to the sternpost and with two quick chops, severed the rope which bound us to the burning ship.
Suddenly loosed, and with no one to steer her, the flaming longship slewed sideways in the water. The enemy pilot tried to turn aside, but it was already too late: the raiders struck the burning vessel amidships and the mast gave out a deep sighing groan, teetered, and then plunged like an axe-felled tree to strike the red ship's cross-member where it hung, catching the sail alight and showering flames into the hull below.
The sight brought the Sea Wolves to their feet; they leapt onto the benches and onto the rail where they cried their joyful acclamation at the enemy's demise. I cheered, too. Before I knew it, my feet were on the rail and my voice was loud in jubilation as I shook my fists in the air.
I felt hands on me and looked down into Dugal's face; he was grinning with relief, but holding tight to me lest I should tumble overboard. He said something, but his voice was overwhelmed in the glad commotion, and I could not hear a word he said. 'Yes!' I shouted in reply. 'It is a splendid sight!'
Harald allowed the Sea Wolves only a moment's celebration, and then ordered everyone back to the oars. We rowed clear of the burning wrecks, which were now inextricably entangled and drifting dangerously in the waves. Casting a last look over my shoulder as the dragonship swung away, I saw the red ship's sail fully ablaze and falling in great fiery patches onto the heads of the Arab pirates as they screamed in terror, their pitiable cries swallowed in the smoke billowing from the flaming hull to flatten on the breeze and spread over the water.
Leaving the wailing enemy to the doom he had prepared for us, Harald turned his attention to the second red ship.
Standing at the sternpost, his bull voice belling, the Sea King called cadence as we rowed to engage the raiders in combat. 'Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh!' he bellowed. It soon became apparent that the two remaining longships had not only been able to stay clear of the raiders' fire-throwing prow, but had somehow navigated themselves into position behind the red ship and beyond reach of hand-thrown missiles. They were now angling for the attack, one on either side of the enemy vessel, keeping the raider ship between them.
The red vessel appeared to be trying to swing about in order to confront her attackers, but to no avail. The oar-driven longships could easily remain out of reach. Preoccupied with this difficulty, the red ship did not immediately see the dragonship ploughing a wave-furrow straight towards her.
Thorkel steered a course that would bring us up from the rear to come alongside the red ship-a much-loved Sea Wolf tactic, allowing them to grapple onto the other boat and, once the defenders were subdued, to board and loot the vessel. I knew the strategy well: it had been used to ruinous effect on little Ban Gwydd.
Whether it would have been successful against the red ship is a matter for eternal speculation. Before we could close on them, the raiders discovered our swift-charging onslaught. The Arab enemy took one look at the dragonship leaping through the waves in its eagerness to devour them, changed course and fled before the wind.
We might have made good the chase, and caught them, but Harald knew better than to exhaust his men with hard rowing and then expect them to win a battle. Instead, he broke off pursuit, and signalled the two remaining longships to follow him.
Thus, we turned aside, leaving the burning ships behind. There were men in the water by now; forced to choose between a fiery death or a watery grave, many had chosen the latter. Three half-drowned pirates bobbed into view just a spear's throw from the rail on my side of the ship. They hailed us in the name of Jesu as we drew near, but the rest of their speech was incomprehensible to me.
The Danes were for killing them-indeed, several Sea Wolves already had their spears out of the holders and were taking aim, when Faysal put a stop to it. Seizing the nearest spearman by the arm, he prevented the warrior from throwing while shouting to me to tell them not to kill the pirates.
'Save them!' Faysal urged. 'They are not Arabs, they are Armenians. Such captives may prove useful to us in Byzantium.'
I relayed his words to Harald, who grudgingly agreed and ordered the men to rescue the survivors instead.
The captives were in all respects similar to the raiders who had attacked us on the road to Sebastea, and like those others their appearance was such that, until they spoke, I could not tell them from Arabs. 'How did you know they were Armenians?' I asked Faysal. 'Was it from their speech?'
'As Allah lives I knew even before they spoke,' he replied with a shrewd smile. 'The Sarazens do not yet possess the secret of the Greek fire. The method of its making is a carefully guarded secret which we have yet to penetrate. That these men use it can only mean that someone from within the imperial service has given the secret to them.'
So it was that three soggy Armenians joined our company, snatched from the sea, to be bound hand and foot and carried to Constantinople as further proof of Nikos's treachery.
Standing at the sternpost, Harald Bull-Roar called, 'Up sail!' and commanded Thorkel to resume our previous course. Then, as the proud dragonprow swung around, Jarl Harald lofted the war axe and bellowed his victory call.
'To Miklagard!' he bawled. 'Death to our enemies!'
PART FIVE
Thou shalt not be left in the land of the wicked,
Thou shalt not be bent in the courts of the false;
Thou shalt rise victorious above them
As rise the waves above the shore.
Christ himself is shepherd over thee,
Enfolding thee on every side;
He will not forsake thee head nor heel,
Nor let evil come anigh.
69
Ten days after the sea battle, one of the Danes scrambled up the mast and hailed us to the sight of Miklagard, the Great Golden City. The call brought Lord Sadiq from his bed and, with Kazimain and Ddewi in attendance, he came to see the gleaming domes and towers of Constantinople.
Since the battle he had appeared often, if briefly, to walk the length of the ship a few times and take the air. On these occasions, he spoke to me-and through me to Harald-giving every indication of making a fair recovery. Though he still slept much of the time, striving to recapture his strength through rest, I formed the impression that he was indeed returning to health.
Standing at the rail, we watched the city emerge from the heat haze, shimmering atop its high-humped hills- like a dazzling white pearl couched on a bed of dusty green and grey.
'This is the much-vaunted City of Gold?' asked Kazimain. Owing to the presence of so many foreigners, she
