to the bank and saw that the trail continued into the forest on the other side. He looked round at the company. ‘They’ve got Raul.’
‘Is he alive?’ Hero asked.
‘He was when they took him across the river. They bound him. He killed a couple of them.’ Wayland pointed to where he’d found the first blood. ‘He shot one of them back there and then tried to flee. They caught him here and he killed another.’
Richard held a fist to his mouth. ‘What are we going to do?’
Wayland stared across the river. ‘I’ll go after them. No sense anyone else coming. If we press them too hard, they’ll kill Raul and scatter into the forest.’
‘They’ve probably killed him already,’ Drogo said. ‘We should reach Lake Onega before nightfall. We’ll wait for you there until tomorrow night. If you haven’t returned by then, I’ll assume you’re dead.’
A voice spoke from behind. ‘You’re assuming rather a lot, aren’t you?’
Vallon stood supported by Garrick. He looked like a corpse risen from the slab, his eyes flinty shards sunk in mauve sockets.
Drogo pulled himself straight. ‘I was acting in the interests of the party.’
Wayland began cladding the dog in its leather armour.
Vallon’s deathly gaze remained fixed on Drogo. ‘Give him your mail.’
Drogo stepped back in amazement. ‘Let a peasant wear my armour?’
Wayland shook his head. ‘I don’t want it. The lighter I travel, the faster I’ll catch up.’
‘You’ll catch up with a horde of Lapps who think we’re slavers.’ Vallon turned back to Drogo. ‘Lend him your armour.’
Face all knobbled, Drogo thrust the suit at Wayland. The falconer took only the hauberk with its gashed bodice crudely repaired.
‘You’ll need a sword,’ Vallon said. ‘Drogo, I won’t ask you to part with yours.’ His gaze drifted towards Tostig, one of Helgi’s men. ‘Give Wayland your sword.’
At the first peep of protest, Caitlin tore into Tostig with a fury that made him cock an elbow over his ear. He undid his sword belt and Wayland strapped it on.
‘What’s your plan?’ Vallon asked.
‘Trade for Raul’s life.’
Vallon snapped his fingers. ‘Arne, you’ve dealt with the Lapps. What do you think would be sufficient restitution?’
‘Iron and colourful cloth are the goods they desire most. Iron above all. A knife, an axe and two yards of linen might be enough.’
A scurry of activity produced the reparation. Wayland packed the goods in his back-pack together with bread and fish. He held Syth by both hands, then he crossed the river and soon was lost among the trees.
A child could have followed the Lapps’ trail. They were moving fast, a dozen men dragging Raul, pulling him this way and that as he struggled against his bonds. The clouded sky offered few clues as to time or direction. Wayland judged that twilight wasn’t far off and that the Lapps were heading east. They kept to the winding ridge and he guessed he’d run about six miles when the dog stopped and tested the air. Wayland assumed that the Lapps would have posted men to watch for pursuit and he was hoping to initiate negotiations with this rearguard, rather than coming up on the main party. From the way the dog growled and cast fierce looks to each side, Wayland knew that they were watching him and that some of them had fallen in behind.
He went on. The light was beginning to fail when the forest opened out into a natural avenue. At the far end of the corridor, two spruce trees had been bent over and anchored by ropes to form an arch. From the apex hung a dark bundle. It was Raul, suspended twenty feet above the ground, tied between the trees by his arms and legs.
Wayland slung his bow and placed the iron goods and cloth in his outstretched hands. He advanced as if he meant to lay them under the dangling man. Lapps rose up on both sides. They wore hooded smocks of reindeer skin with the fur inside, the hoods trimmed with wolf or fox fur. They were a small race, the men not much more than five feet tall, but decently formed and nothing like the vicious dwarfs described by the Vikings. Most carried small bows or stone axes and some of them had horns made from birch bark. He didn’t see anyone carrying Raul’s crossbow. They probably didn’t know how to work it or lacked the strength to span it.
Wayland stopped short of the arch. Raul hung with his arms upraised and his head drooping to his chest. His clothes had been ripped to tatters and were heavily stained. Much like the bleeding Christs Wayland had seen behind church altars. He’d never known Raul in any condition except bullish vigour and it was shocking to see him reduced to such a pitiful state.
‘Raul, can you hear me? Raul?’
The German raised his head by degrees. ‘Is that you, Wayland?’ His voice was a husky croak. His face was bloody and bruised and one of his eyes had been gouged out. ‘They caught me napping, Wayland. They were on me before I spotted them. They’re stealthy devils.’
‘How many did you kill?’
‘Three, I reckon. One of them just a kid. I loosed at the first one I saw and took off running. They noosed me with ropes and then they all came down on me. They bust my ribs and God knows what else.’ He coughed and dragged in a whistling breath. ‘I’m hurt bad, Wayland.’
‘Don’t talk. I’ll get you down.’
Raul’s head rocked. ‘There ain’t no way you can save my bacon. I’m looking down on the heathens tending the ropes and they’re ready to cut. The kindest thing you could do is put me out of my misery.’
‘I’m going to make a trade. You just …’
A cracked laugh. ‘I ain’t going nowhere.’
Wayland laid down his bow and placed the borrowed sword on top of it.
Raul sucked air and gave a racking cough. ‘There ain’t no use both of us dying.’ His voice fell away. ‘You know what they’re going to do. They’re going to tear me in two.’ His body convulsed in a vague spasm. ‘I never thought I’d go out like one of them martyrs.’
‘You’re not going to die,’ said Wayland. He scanned the trees, searching for a leader. Some of the archers were women and striplings. He singled out an older man who looked like he might have a cool head and walked towards him with the trade goods laid across his hands. He’d gone five or six paces when one of the Lapps loosed a warning shot that darted into the ground a few feet ahead. He glanced back at his weapons. Another half dozen steps and he wouldn’t be able to recover them if the Lapps attacked. His tongue stuck to his palate. He placed one hand on the dog’s shoulder.
‘Wayland,’ Raul called in a voice from deep inside. ‘I appreciate you coming after me. Appreciate it. You’ve done more than any comrade can ask for, so I’m begging you to save yourself. There ain’t much time and I’ve got one last thing to ask.’
Wayland’s face knotted to squeeze back the tears. ‘Ask away.’
Raul dragged in a whistling breath. He couldn’t expand his chest and was slowly drowning. ‘You know how I bragged about going home with a swag of silver. You used to smile and swing your head like you knew I’d blow it away. Well, looks like I ain’t going to get the chance to prove you wrong.’ Raul fell silent for a moment and his head sagged. ‘I ain’t complaining. I got to tell you, Wayland, these last few months have been as good as I’ve known.’ Raul strained against the ropes to relieve the pressure on his lungs. ‘It ain’t for my benefit, but if there’s any silver coming my way, can you make sure it finds its way home? I know Vallon said we were on profits, but I don’t think the captain will begrudge me a few coins. He ain’t a mean man.’
Wayland couldn’t speak. He shook his head.
‘I know you can’t take it yourself. But me and old Garrick were talking and he said that if he made it to Novgorod, he was planning on heading home. I told him to look in on my family and said that if he was thinking about going back to farming, there was some good land to be had. I told him about my sisters and said he might do worse than take one of them to warm his bed.’
Wayland swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘I’ll do that, dear friend, but it isn’t over yet.’ He wiped his hands on his thighs.
Raul gave a lacerated laugh. ‘All the years I’ve known you and that’s the first time you called me “friend”.
