Hawk Quest

Thorfinn’s jaw hung loose. He leaned forward, eyes squinting for trickery. ‘Why six of your people?’

‘Because the Icelanders are a burden and the fewer I carry, the easier my life will be. I’ll even supply rations for the six hostages.’

Thorfinn went into huddled council with his lieutenant. Finally he turned.

‘I won’t part with the women. Why do you want them? They’re not your kin.’

‘Unless you release them, I won’t give you the sail.’

‘Then we’ll all perish.’

Vallon looked at Wayland. ‘I can’t jeopardise the lives of twenty for the sake of two. There’ll be other opportunities to save them.’ He faced Thorfinn. ‘We’ll settle the women’s fate another day. The other terms aren’t negotiable.’

Thorfinn smiled as if contemplating a sunny prospect behind Vallon’s head. ‘Give me six strong men who can ply oars.’

Raul hailed them.

‘The tide’s on the turn,’ Wayland said.

‘How soon can you make your ship ready?’ Vallon asked Thorfinn.

‘Tomorrow.’

‘We’ll make the exchange at the mouth of the river. If we’re not there, it’s because we’ve caught a wind from the east.’

A storm of outrage burst upon Vallon when he returned to the ship and announced his change of plan. The refugees surged forward. Raul pushed them back. Drogo shouldered his way to the front.

‘You have no right to gamble with our lives.’

‘Whatever course we take is a gamble.’ Vallon waved his arms. ‘Quiet! Hear what I have to say.’

The uproar diminished. ‘You all know my story,’ Vallon said. He pointed at Drogo. ‘You know that this man pursued me to Iceland to exact revenge for a harm that exists only in his mind.’ He pointed at Caitlin. ‘You know that this lady’s brother challenged me to combat for an imagined slight to her honour. Even so, I rescued Drogo and Helgi.’

The crowd was stone silent. ‘You wonder why? Because abandoning them would have condemned all of you to death. God knows I’m no saint, but faced with the choice of saving my own company and leaving innocents to die, I chose the Christian course. That’s still the course I follow. The alternative, the easier path, would be to hazard the voyage around North Cape and set you down at the first convenient haven. If I did that, most of you would starve or be cast into slavery. The path I’ve chosen will be dangerous. Some of us won’t reach the end, but I believe that it offers the best hope.’

Vallon hadn’t finished. ‘You pleaded with me to rescue your neighbours and kinsmen. Now you can turn words into deeds. I need four men to travel with the Vikings as hostages. No harm will come to them.’

Words go only so far. Shearwater was nearly at the estuary before the Icelanders had badgered and browbeaten four of their number into standing surety.

Wayland frowned at Vallon. ‘You promised Thorfinn six hostages.’

‘The other two will come from my company. Garrick.’

The Englishman flinched.

‘If you go as hostage, you might find a way of saving the women prisoners.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The rest of the company stared in dismay. Vallon’s gaze travelled over each in turn. ‘I need someone to spy on the Vikings. Discover their strengths and weaknesses, learn their habits. After suffering so many setbacks, their morale won’t be high. We might be able to bring a few of them over to our side.’ His gaze passed over Raul and dwelt on Wayland before switching.

‘Hero. I’m sending you.’

XXXIII

Squalls blew in on a cutting north-westerly. Shearwater lay under the lee of the estuary.

‘Why me?’ Hero said for the umpteenth time. ‘Why any of us? It wasn’t one of Thorfinn’s conditions. Vallon threw me in like I was a token in a game.’

‘It’s not for long,’ Richard said.

‘Ten days with a gang of murdering savages!’

Someone cried out and the ship listed as the Icelanders ran to the side.

‘Here they come,’ Vallon called. ‘Hoist sail. Get well to windward.’

The piebald hull of the longship bore down out of the rain.

‘I’d go in your place if I could,’ Richard said.

‘I know you would.’ Hero summoned a wan smile. ‘The funny thing is that I’d do the same for you.’ He stood, his blanket slipping to the deck, and kissed Richard on both cheeks. ‘If you don’t see me again, know that a piece of my heart will always be with you.’

Garrick retrieved the blanket and placed it around Hero’s shoulders. ‘I’ll take good care of him.’

Shearwater heeled as she ran towards the eastern headland. Half a mile downwind of the longship, Vallon ordered Raul to strike the sail. The Vikings stopped rowing. Vallon watched them for a long time without speaking, and Hero thought that even at this last moment he might change his mind.

‘The Vikings are readying their boat,’ Raul said. ‘Looks like they mean to go through with it.’

‘Into the boat,’ said Vallon.

Two rowers boarded, then the four Icelandic hostages climbed down. Father Hilbert told them they were suffering God’s wrath for their sins, but that if they showed true repentance they might yet enter the glorious realm of heaven.

Vallon rounded on him. ‘If you don’t change your tune, you’ll find yourself singing it to the Vikings.’

He spoke in private to Garrick before he descended and the Englishman grinned as he shook hands. Then Vallon turned to Hero.

‘Don’t hate me too much. I chose you because you have a quick mind and a persuasive tongue. You’ll soon be back among your comrades.’ He held Hero and laid his face to his cheek. ‘You’re as dear to me as my own son. There, it’s said. Not a moment too soon.’

Dizzy from this declaration, Hero stepped into the boat. The half sail and rigging were passed down. Someone untied the boat’s rope and then, to cries of pity and encouragement, the hostages were cast loose.

With the wind behind it, the Viking boat moved faster than the Icelanders could row. Hero’s party had only travelled one-third of the way to the longship when the two sets of hostages crossed paths. Neither side could forbear to look at their counterparts. Two of the Vikings affected indifference. One hawked and spat. The fourth, a youth, looked as frightened as Hero felt. His face was pale, his jaw tight. Their eyes met and stayed locked until the boats had passed.

Hero wrenched his gaze to the front. A sharp chop flung spray into his face. In the troughs, he could see nothing of the longship except its mast. The gap closed and he began to shape out features on the men lining the ship’s side. There were only eight left on board, Thorfinn towering above them all.

The boat came alongside. Hero noticed that the longship’s new strakes were secured by crude wooden trenails, its hull braced by a framework of poles, the replaced thwarts of the crudest manufacture. The Vikings pulled the four Icelanders aboard and pushed them aft towards the prisoners. When Garrick made to follow, Thorfinn blocked his way.

‘English?’

Garrick nodded.

‘Did you burn my ship?’

‘I’m a peasant. The Frank seized me as I was tilling my fields. I’ve never held a sword in my life.’