comrades.’
The ship lay canted over in a silted-up channel. Wayland looked back at the mere. ‘You’ll never get it out. The water’s too shallow.’
‘No shallower than the day I brung her here. She draws less than two feet without ballast. Asides, ye’re looking the wrong way.’ Snorri pointed his nub in the opposite direction to the mere. ‘The river’s only a titty bit yonder.’
‘How many men needed to row?’
‘Oh me, oh my, the man knows nowt about shipcraft. She’s a sailing ship, ye numpty. In a fair wind I could sail her to Norway on me own-some.’
‘And if the wind isn’t fair?’
‘Four at a pinch, six would be better. Wouldn’t quarrel with eight.’
‘Is it repairable?’
Snorri stroked the hull with pride. ‘A boat as well crafted as thissun can take a lot of harm before she loses seaworthiness. Like a living thing, almost mends herself.’
‘How long to repair it?’
‘Hold ye hard. Ye’re jumping ahead of yerself.’
‘Just tell me what needs doing.’
Snorri twisted his scraggy beard. ‘First there’s the oak for the new strakes. Not any old oak, but oak standing two hundred year and rooted in clay, riven when green and tied with rivets shaped to clinch and tempered so they give in heavy seas. A boat’s like a horse. Ye want them yielding no matter how hard ye ride. Needs a new sail of close-wove wool or linen. Ye can buy good flax from Suffolk, but Norfolk wool is stronger. The caulking needs seeing to, and then there’s-’
‘How much?’
Snorri sucked through the gaps in his teeth. ‘Materials and labour, ye’re looking at sixteen pounds.’
‘Quiet.’
Snorri cringed. ‘Course, depends where ye voyage. If it’s a sea crossing, there ain’t no good cutting corners. Ye’d regret those pennies when the waves start coming up over yer eyes. But if ye were just coasting, maybe ye could make do with pine boards and-’
‘I said shut up.’
The dog’s ears were pricked.
‘Only a bull of the bog,’ Snorri said. ‘Lots of marsh fowl make calls like humankind. I tell ye, there’s places even Snorri Snorrason don’t like to be abroad after dark, when the corpse candles light and the lantern men go walking.’
‘Take me back.’
After a while Snorri heard the cries, too. ‘Ye didn’t say ye’d brung more furriners.’
Three men were waiting by Snorri’s shack — Hero, Richard and a stocky, bearded stranger they must have recruited as a guide.
Hero’s expression was doom-struck. ‘We’re finished,’ he said. ‘Vallon’s been taken. Raul, too.’
XII
Richard spoke in a stunned staccato. ‘Noon yesterday we went to collect the money. Aaron was anxious, didn’t want to admit us. Enquiries were being made about us. The transaction was off. Vallon forced himself into the house, showed his sword, told Aaron that he’d take him down to hell if he didn’t produce the money. As soon as we got it, we returned to the house. Raul was waiting. He warned us that soldiers were combing the city street by street. Vallon was burying the money in a midden behind the house when they turned up. They broke down the gate. Raul held them up. The soldiers gave him a terrible beating. They would have killed him if I hadn’t told them I was Count Olbec’s son. They were the same ones who questioned Vallon and Raul at the west gate. The sergeant said they were arresting them on murder warrants sworn by Drogo. They demanded to know your whereabouts. I told them we hadn’t seen you since the day we left the castle and that Hero had parted company with us days ago.’
‘They don’t know about the moneylender,’ Hero added. ‘Richard merely told them that he was carrying out business for Lady Margaret.’
‘I showed them her letters, but it made no difference. There’s a reward at stake. The sergeant’s going to hold them until Drogo arrives.’
‘He’s in Lincoln,’ Hero said. ‘Messengers won’t reach him until tomorrow, but when they do, he’ll ride flat out for Norwich. We’ve got less than two days to rescue them.’
Richard wrung his hands. ‘We’ll never get them out. They’re guarded night and day.’
‘They’re not in the castle,’ Hero said. ‘They’re in the tower over the west gate. The soldiers intend keeping the reward for themselves.’
‘It doesn’t make any difference,’ Richard said. ‘They’re locked in a cell on the top floor. They’ve put Raul in chains. The guards took me up to see them.’
Hero sat down. There was a long silence. ‘If we recovered the money, we could try bribing them.’
Richard shook his head. ‘Drogo would slaughter them if they let Vallon go.’
‘What about creating a diversion — a hullabaloo that would bring the soldiers out of the tower?’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. A fire.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘All right. Forget it.’
Hero put his fists on his knees and laid his forehead on them. Another silence.
‘Hero?’
‘I’m thinking.’
At last he raised his head. ‘You say they don’t know about the inn.’
‘It won’t take them long to find out — not with the way Raul’s been carrying on.’
Hero stood and walked off, punching the palm of one hand. ‘Describe the tower.’
‘The gateway passes under it. On one side is a stable, on the other a guardroom with stairs to the tower.’
‘How many floors?’
‘Three above the gate, I think. Yes, three.’
‘How many soldiers?’
‘Eight — four on gate duty, four with the prisoners.’
‘And you’re sure they didn’t follow you?’
‘I’m certain. I told them I was going to ride to Lincoln to settle matters with Drogo. I rode until it got too dark to see the road.’ Richard began to tremble.
‘How often do the guards change?’
‘I don’t know. Back home it’s every four hours.’
‘What’s the Normans’ favourite food?’
Richard looked askance. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
Wayland dusted off the seat of his breeches and went over to Snorri’s hut. He pulled back the greasy hide that served as a door and went inside.
‘We have to get back to Norwich,’ Hero said.
Richard’s eyes were haggard. ‘I can’t ride another foot. I haven’t slept a wink.’
‘Not you. You stay here.’
Wayland emerged from the hut carrying a rush creel. He set it down before Hero and took off the lid.
Hero squirmed back. ‘What are those for?’
‘You said you wanted food,’ Wayland told him.
Hero stared at Wayland, glanced at Richard, looked back at Wayland. Dumbstruck. ‘You spoke. How …? What
