XLII
On they went, the river flowing so wide and slow that it seemed as if they were motionless and it was the land that was moving. Two days after the skirmish, Kolzak pointed out a flock of vultures wheeling above a bluff on the eastern shore. Igor turned and relayed the warning.
‘A Russian family farms up there,’ Hero told Vallon. ‘The pilots think something’s happened to them.’
‘Tell them to land.’
The pilots pulled in and the Rus soldiers disembarked with great trepidation and set off up a dirt track, stumbling along in bast sandals tied with coarse hemp cords. A raw breeze carried the smell of ashes and the taint of carrion. The house had been burned down to its mud walls. As they approached, a steppe fox careered off and three vultures trotted away from a half-eaten cow before getting airborne.
A family of five had lived here, said the pilots. Wayland found what remained of the man in a plot of buckwheat stubble. There was no trace of his wife and their three children.
‘The Cumans haven’t been gone long,’ he said. ‘Four days at most.’
Vallon looked at the steppe undulating in shallow folds towards the horizon. No other dwellings in sight. Not even a tree to give a sense of scale. The grasses tossed in the wind.
‘Why did they settle in such a dangerous place?’
‘The soil is rich black loam. The Cumans haven’t been this far north for some years. They took a chance and lost.’
The emptiness gave the Russians the jitters. They fairly ran back to the ships, leaving the smallholder unburied. Vallon and Wayland remained a little longer, listening to the wind in the grass, watching cloud shadows sail across the steppe. They imagined the farmer looking up from some everyday task to see the mounted warriors mustering on the skyline.
Vallon hunched his shoulders. ‘Let’s go.’
The Dnieper flowed on with unbroken calm, then the left bank began to rise and the current quickened as the river narrowed between cliffs. Since leaving Kiev they had been heading south-east. Now the river swung due south and the voyagers saw that it disappeared through a cleft in a plateau about five miles downstream.
‘
The sun hadn’t reached full height when the pilots cut short the day’s journey at a grassy island below a tributary. No point going further today, Kolzak said. They were only a few miles above the first rapid. With the days now much shorter than the nights, it would take two days to get past all nine of them. If they started at first light tomorrow, they should be through the first five by sundown.
Vallon’s company unloaded their horses and hobbled them before turning them out to graze. Wayland and Syth went off to hunt game for the falcons. Vallon and Hero strolled to the tail of the island and watched the clay- coloured current coiling towards the gap in the granite walls. The sky was a glazed blue dish brushed with fair- weather cloud.
Hero glanced at Vallon. ‘Drogo will make another sabotage attempt. The closer we get to our goal, the more desperate he’ll become.’
Vallon nodded. ‘I’ll set him and Fulk adrift once we’ve run the rapids and are clear of the Cumans.’
‘They won’t survive long in the steppe.’
‘I’m not so pitiless that I’d condemn them to death. We’ll give them the spare boat and enough food for the journey to the Black Sea. If they reach it … ’ He broke off. ‘Here come Wayland and Syth.’
They appeared from the other side of the island and jogged down to join them. Vallon smiled. ‘No luck?’
‘Horsemen on the west bank,’ said Wayland. He took Vallon by the elbow and steered him round. ‘They’ve dropped from sight, but they’ll be watching. Better not let them know we’ve seen them.’
‘Are they shepherds?’
‘No, they carry shields and sidearms as well as bows. I counted four, but there may be more. We have to get off the island. The channel on the other side is shallow enough to ford.’
Vallon looked towards the camp. ‘This requires delicate thinking. The Russians might turn back if they find out there are Cumans in their path.’
On the way to the camp they agreed a plan of action. They found Richard alone by their fire and told him about the horsemen. No one else. Hero went to the Russians’ camp and invited the pilots to come over and discuss the journey through the gorge. Vallon greeted them cheerfully and Richard handed them cups of mead.
‘So,’ Hero said. ‘Tell us more about the rapids.’
Igor answered, chanting his response like a litany. ‘The first one is called Kaidac. It has four ledges.’ He mimed rowing. ‘Keep to the left. Next is the Severe One, called Sleepless by the Varangians. Very soon we are at the dangerous Wave-Waterfall, which has three ledges and many perilous rocks downstream. Then we come to the Echoer. As you pass it your heart quails at the terrible clamour of the Insatiable. Here the river pours down twelve ledges with the speed of a runaway horse. No time to think, no time to aim. Pray to God and put your life in his hands. A thousand souls and all their treasure lie at the bottom of the deep pools below. If you come through the Insatiable and the dangerous rocks downstream, your course turns west past a large island. For many versts the river flows gently. Don’t relax. Don’t cease your prayers. Ahead of you is the Place of Waves with billows that hold many hidden dangers.’ Igor rocked from side to side, his eyes shut. ‘Hardly have you given thanks to God for your deliverance than you are in the Awakener. Below that the river turns south again and descends the Lishni. It offers only slight dangers. Now only the Serpent awaits, winding and twisting through six ledges before spilling into the Wolf’s Throat.’
Igor opened his eyes and quaffed his mead. Hero made a face at Vallon. ‘He says we’re in for a tempestuous ride.’
‘Ask him where the Cumans set their ambushes.’
‘Below the Serpent, at the Wolf’s Throat,’ Igor answered. ‘There the river narrows to less than an arrow-flight and the horse-archers can shoot down into the boats. If you survive their barbs, you still have to face their main force at the ford between the end of the gorge and St Gregory’s Island.’
Hero sipped his mead. ‘Have you ever run the rapids at night?’
Igor snorted. ‘Of course not.’
‘Is it possible?’
‘Only a madman would attempt such a thing.’
Hero smiled. ‘Fyodor told us you could run the rapids in your sleep.’
Igor looked away. ‘Yes, in the summer I could find the way with my eyes closed. But with the water so low everything will have changed. Some of the channels will be dry and others will be no wider than your boats. You can’t thread a needle in the dark.’ He drained his cup. ‘Why do you ask?’
Hero poured them more mead. ‘Because the Cumans know we’re here.’
The pilots froze with their cups halfway to their mouths.
Hero pulled himself closer. ‘Wayland spotted them on the west bank. By now some of them will be riding south to prepare an ambush. If we wait until tomorrow, there’ll be an army waiting at the ford. We have to start as soon as possible and run all nine rapids tonight. We’ve still got some daylight and there’ll be a moon to light the way after sunset.’ He saw Kolzak glance at the Russians. ‘Don’t tell them until we’re below the second rapid. Say that we’re moving downriver to be sure of making an early start.’
Igor said something to Kolzak and they began to argue in Russian, working themselves into such a frenzy that the soldiers turned to watch. Igor made to jump up, but Kolzak pulled him back down. He clenched his arms around his chest, his face a furious wrinkled sack. ‘Igor refuses to go,’ Kolzak said. ‘He’d rather suffer Fyodor’s punishment than face certain death.’
Hero craned forward. ‘Now listen. We haven’t told the Vikings about the Cumans. When we do, do you imagine they’ll let you scuttle back to Kiev leaving them to face the horse-nomads alone? And there’s the silver we paid for your services. Vallon isn’t the kind of man to overlook a broken contract.’
Igor sobbed into his hands. Kolzak spoke gently to him and helped him up. His arms flopped in resignation.
