descended to the riverbank to await Raul’s return. The falconer sat stroking his dog and staring across to the opposite bank. Watching him, Vallon thought that he’d be proud to have him for a son.
‘You’re a born warrior,’ he said. ‘Even though I was shaped for war from childhood, you’ve killed more men than I had at your age.’
‘I don’t take any pleasure in it.’
‘I’m surprised. You told me that your grandfather was a Viking and would choose no other employment. You seemed proud of his exploits.’
‘They were stories he told me while he was tending his vegetable plot.’ Wayland gave Vallon a quick look. ‘Do you take pleasure in killing?’
Vallon thought about it. ‘I take satisfaction in the defeat of my enemies. The world’s a dangerous place. Life’s a vicious game. Your falcons know that.’
Wayland gave a scornful laugh. ‘If you had lived among the beasts, you’d know that they kill out of necessity. Only men treat death as a sport.’
‘I don’t make war for sport.’
‘Why then? Did you believe that the rulers whose armies you led waged war to make the world a better place?’
Vallon breathed in until his lungs pressed against his ribs. Two years ago, if a peasant had dared ask such a question, he would have had him flogged to death and forgotten his existence by next morning.
Wayland was watching him. ‘You don’t answer.’
Vallon’s response rose in his throat but he couldn’t give voice to it. I made this journey to atone for a mortal sin and swore that I wouldn’t take life except in defence of my own or my company. Six months later and I’ve lost count of the men who’ve died by my hand. And there’ll be more.
He smiled. ‘I fight because that’s all I’m good for.’ He squeezed Wayland’s arm. ‘Off you go. Syth will be anxious for you.’
Wayland stood.
Vallon squinted up. ‘Before Drogo left, you exchanged a look. As if you shared a secret.’
‘What sort of secret would I share with Drogo?’
The oblique light left Wayland’s face in shadow. Vallon nodded. ‘I must have fancied it. Don’t keep Syth waiting.’
When Wayland had gone, Vallon linked hands behind his head and stared at the sky. A line of geese flew upriver with their wings almost touching, the formation so precise. Soon they’d be going south, taking only a few days to make a passage that
The boat appeared out of spangled reflections. Vallon stood and shaded his eyes. Six men had set off and only five were returning. He recognised Raul’s squat form and prayed that the missing man wasn’t Hero or Richard. He walked to the tip of the bar and hailed the raiders. He gave thanks to God when he picked out Hero and Richard’s features. A pang of remorse as he realised that the missing man was one of the Icelanders — a man whose name he’d forgotten and whose face he couldn’t recall.
As the boat rowed closer, Vallon saw that Raul’s beard had been burned to a frizzy mat and his eyebrows scorched to black speckles. Vallon helped him ashore.
‘We saw the smoke. You saved the day.’
Raul stepped past him in a stink of burned hair. He threw himself down against a tree and plucked at his nitty brow with broiled hands. ‘Didn’t your ambush succeed?’
‘We didn’t hurt the enemy as much as I’d hoped. Tell me about your own action.’
Raul waved at Hero and shut his eyes.
Hero and Richard dumped themselves down beside Raul. They looked tired but surprisingly collected. The two surviving Icelanders joined them.
‘The night didn’t begin well,’ said Hero. ‘It was so dark that we lost all sense of place. The current kept pushing us into the bank. Eventually, from the sheer passage of time, we decided that we must have gone past the bend, but we couldn’t locate the Viking camp. Insects were eating us alive. In despair we rowed for the shore with no more ambition than to make our way back as soon as we could see what we were doing.’
‘We cursed you,’ Richard said.
‘You’re not the only ones. On with your tale.’
‘After a flurry of rain, the clouds parted and the moon showed itself. We worked out that we were below the camp.’ Hero touched one of the Icelanders. Vallon recognised him as the youth who’d jumped aboard
‘You waited for them to leave and then attacked the longship.’
They exchanged glances. Raul looked up from under his scorched brows. ‘We were done in, wet to the bone and driven mad by the midges. Our kindling was damp, we had no idea how many Vikings were guarding the camp or where they were laid up. Flog me or dock me, Captain, but my only thought was to save our skins.’
Vallon eased back. ‘In those circumstances, I might have made the same decision.’ He grinned. ‘Something made you change your mind.’
Hero resumed his account. ‘We rowed across the mouth of the bay, plying our oars as if they were feathers. The longship lay only fifty yards from us and there didn’t seem to be anyone on board. We kept going and then Richard said, “We can’t skulk away like this. What will we tell Vallon?”’
Richard smiled sheepishly. Vallon stared at him.
Raul spat. ‘We all sort of looked at each other and then without a word we began pulling towards the ship. ’Course we hadn’t gone more than a few yards when an almighty shout went up from the shore and two guards who’d been sleeping on board sprang up. Three Vikings came running down from their posts on the hills. I took aim on one of the ship-guards. Twenty yards range. Couldn’t miss.’ Raul spat again. ‘Well, I did. The rain had made my bowstring limper than the pope’s dick.’
Richard sniggered into his palm.
‘We fought our way aboard,’ said Raul. ‘I dealt with one of the guards. Rorik and Bjarni finished off the other one. Skapti got killed in the scrap. He fell dead into the water, God keep him.’
Vallon nodded. He hadn’t the faintest idea who Skapti was.
‘By this time the shore sentries had nearly reached the bank. There was just time to cut the mooring and push off. Two of the Vikings ran into the water and we fended them off with oars. The other one stayed on shore blowing the alarm. While we were fighting off the two in the water, Hero and Richard set about raising a fire.’
‘I thought it would never light,’ said Hero. ‘There was an inch of water in the hull and the timbers were soaked from the rain. Luckily for us, the Vikings had refitted the sail. We drenched it in oil, piled all the faggots around the mast, and poured our compound over them. Even then it took an age for the fire to take hold. When it did catch, the flames shot halfway up the mast. The Vikings had left their oars in the ship. We gathered them up along with anything else that would burn and threw them on to the blaze.’
Raul continued the tale. ‘When the Vikings saw the fire, the one on shore launched their boat and the two in the water waded back to join him. Hero was shouting for us to get off, but the yard and sail had collapsed across the deck and there was a wall of fire between me and our boat. By now the three Vikings had nearly reached the ship. Captain, you know I’m no swimmer or I’d have jumped overboard. I held my breath, shut my eyes and ran through the flames. Tripped over a thwart. I thought I’d had it.’
‘He was smoking when he came out,’ Hero said.
‘We jumped into the boat and rowed as hard as we could. The Vikings didn’t chase us. They were too busy trying to save their ship.’
‘Did they succeed?’
‘Last I saw, it was burning like a torch.’
‘So it’s destroyed.’
