Hawk Quest

wasn’t more the spy could do, so he went back and told David what he’d seen. Now the thing is, none of the men Snorri met owns a ship ’cept for maybe a little fishing boat. And David spent this morning down at the harbour, checking if anyone had been asking about ships for charter. Snorri never showed his ugly face the whole while. I told you he was a bald-faced liar.’

‘Here he comes,’ said Wayland.

A fishing boat approached, crewed by four men. Vallon and his men returned to Shearwater.

‘Three of them are the ones that were with Snorri. Captain, we can raise the sail and be out of here before they come alongside.’

Vallon’s jaw worked. ‘Not yet. I warned Snorri what would happen if he broke our agreement.’

Snorri hove up with a grin. His escort also wore expressions of such good cheer that Raul spat in disbelief. ‘Look at them. Don’t tell me they ain’t rogues.’

Vallon leaned out. ‘Snorri, tell your friends to stay in the boat.’

Snorri climbed aboard still grinning. ‘I found ye a ship like I said I would. A right good ’un.’

Vallon nodded towards the Norwegians. ‘Owned by those men?’

Snorri looked at them. ‘No, but they put me on to it.’

‘In Kirkwall?’

‘No. She’s in a bay a titty bit down the coast.’

So Snorri’s treachery wasn’t cut and dried. ‘Bring the ship up here so that we can inspect it.’

‘Against this wind? Cap’n, we’d best shift before it gets any stronger.’

‘We have to discuss it,’ said Vallon. He drew Raul and Wayland to one side.

‘He’s lying,’ said Raul. ‘Why waste any more time on him?’

Wayland nodded agreement.

Vallon stretched his mouth and clacked his teeth. ‘That leaves us with no choice but to take Shearwater. Raul, persuade David to pilot us to the Faroes. He can name his fee within reason.’

‘I already tried. He don’t want any part in piracy and he ain’t going against the harbourmaster’s orders. He’s got his livelihood to consider.’

‘Then we’ll do without him.’

‘It’s awful bad timing, Captain. There’s filthy weather brewing.’

The sea was already showing its teeth. ‘It can’t be helped.’

‘What do you plan to do with Snorri?’

‘Get rid of him.’

‘About time.’

Vallon went up to him. ‘How much does your friend want for his ship?’

‘Negotiable, I’d say.’

‘We’ll take a look at it. I’m not taking your friends on board. They can either row back to Kirkwall or accept a tow.’

The Norwegians tied a line to Shearwater’s stern. The crew raised anchor, brought the ship about and hoisted sail. Shearwater gathered way. David remained on the island and didn’t raise his hand in response to Vallon’s wave.

Snorri had taken the tiller.

‘Why did you let his cronies tag along?’ Raul asked.

‘You’ll see,’ said Vallon. He watched the shore to starboard. They passed a small bay. He turned and shouted into the wind. ‘How much further?’

‘Around the next headland.’

Sure enough, when they cleared the cape, Vallon saw a ship moored at the end of the bay.

Snorri began to bring the ship round. ‘I told ye I’d find ye a charter.’

‘Cut the tow,’ Vallon told Raul. ‘Wayland, prepare to take the helm.’

Raul ran to the stern and slashed the line tethering the boat. Its crew cried out and Snorri ran from the tiller and clawed at him. ‘What are ye doing?’ He turned blasted eyes on Vallon. ‘What are ye doing?’

Vallon stepped forward and shoved a packet of silver down his tunic. ‘That’s payment in full.’ He pushed Snorri towards the stern. ‘Jump while your friends are close enough to save you.’

‘Jump from me own ship?’

The boat’s crew were fitting oars.

‘You’ll drown if you wait any longer.’

Snorri patted the silver. ‘Ye said ye’d pay me forty pounds for me ship. There ain’t one-quarter of that here.’

‘Forty pounds of silver would drag you to the bottom. Raul, throw him overboard.’

‘Wait! I’ll take ye to Iceland like ye want.’ Snorri’s voice rose to a scream as Raul clinched him in a bear-hug and lifted him kicking to the stem. ‘Curse ye! Curse ye all!’ He was still cursing when Raul pitched him into the sea.

He disappeared and Vallon thought he’d gone. Then his face bobbed up. The boat rowed towards him. Shearwater was running fast downwind and Vallon didn’t see if it reached him in time.

Raul glared at Vallon. ‘You might as well have hanged him. Stretching his neck in front of the harbourmaster wouldn’t get us into any more trouble than what you’ve just done. Throwing him off his ship in front of witnesses … Why didn’t ye let me cut his throat on the quiet?’

‘Remember who you’re speaking to,’ Vallon snapped. The islands were merging into a darkening haze. The wind hummed in the shrouds and whisked foam from the grey-green waves. ‘I’m appointing you sailing master. Prepare the ship for the storm.’

XXI

The wind was blowing half a gale, shredding the wavetops into ribbons. Raul ordered the crew to tie down everything that wasn’t fixed. Hero and Richard were given the job of packing the clay vessels in straw. Garrick and Wayland struggled to secure the timber. The logs had been stacked in a wooden cradle fixed to the beams, but Raul was worried that they would shift in heavy seas and ordered them to be lashed tight.

Down in the hold was a horrible place to be. Hero could hear seams straining and the mast groaning in its socket. Each time a wave whacked the hull, he expected to see the planking give way and the ocean flood in. As Shearwater left the lee of the Orkneys and met the Atlantic rollers, the pitching settled into a longer rhythm of stomach-churning swoops. The mast head no longer jerked and twitched, but swung in wild rotations.

Hero finished his task and climbed on deck. They were racing tight-reefed before the wind, the swell running so high that down in the troughs he could see only the crests directly fore and aft. They looked almost as tall as Shearwater’s mast. He made his way to the helm, flailing for balance and then fetching up against the side at a skittering run. The wind droned so loud in the rigging that he had to shout.

‘I can’t see land. I thought we were meant to use the islands as stepping stones.’

‘Wind’s backing south,’ yelled Raul. ‘I don’t know how far east the Orkneys go. Can’t risk being driven on to a lee shore.’

Shearwater slid into another trough, burying herself to within a foot of the gunwale. Spray flew the length of the ship. Hero clung to a shroud. ‘The waves will swallow us.’

Raul slapped the tiller. ‘No, they won’t. Look how smoothly the old lady rides — like a cow on skates. Ain’t nothing to do except sit it out. Tie yourself to a line just in case.’

Hero huddled next to Richard on the stern thwart. Garrick tied ropes around their waists and made the ends fast through an oar port. The wind yowled in the shrouds. Fear squatted like a dog in Hero’s chest. A wave pitched him onto the deck. He hooked his hands around the back of the thwart, shifting his hold as the ship rose and fell.