white crest broke on the waves. Vallon examined his puffy and quilted fingers. He dabbed at the cracks in the corners of his mouth, massaged his rheumy eyes. The rest of the company emerged with blotched and haggard faces, their clothes covered with mildew, stinking of wet rot. Raul resembled an inmate from a pest house — his mouth black and scabby, eyes webbed with blood, a hideous carbuncle erupting from his forehead. Even Syth looked a fright. Last out were the monks, their chins and habits streaked with vomit.
The company tottered about. Raul stood in the bow chewing on a dry fish spread with butter. Suddenly he was taken by a choking fit. Vallon thumped him between the shoulders and he ejected a wad of pulverised cod.
‘Ship,’ he wheezed, pointing south.
The others hurried over. ‘That’s Helgi’s vessel,’ said Wayland.
Vallon drilled a finger into his ear. ‘Are you sure?’
Wayland’s voice dragged on phlegm. ‘I recognise the patch on the sail.’
‘Do you think they’ve seen us?’ Hero asked.
‘Must have.’
‘He ain’t stopping,’ said Raul.
‘Follow him.’
The day brightened, sunshine dazzling between clouds. Gulls mewed around the ship and Vallon spotted driftwood. Away to the south a range of pale cloud held station.
‘That must be Norway.’
Raul cocked an inflamed eye at the sun. ‘It’s in the wrong place. Norway should be east of us.’
Vallon checked the position of the sun, looked at the land again. ‘Hero, bring your magic fish.’
Hero placed the compass on a thwart and the company watched its needle spin and settle. The evidence was incontrovertible: the coastline lay due south of them. No one spoke. As well as being exhausted and hungry, they had no idea where they were.
At midday Syth served up gruel and coarse grey bread furred with green and black mould. Vallon pared away the rot and tried to take a bite. His jaws made no impression. He threw the bread to the gulls and sank onto a thwart. Wonky comets and asteroids floated across his vision.
‘Sir?’
Garrick’s face swam into focus. ‘Sorry to disturb you. We’ve spotted two more ships from the convoy.’
Vallon pinched the bridge of his nose and thrust himself up. Garrick supported him by the elbow. He pulled loose. ‘I’m not a cripple.’
He sighted on the ships. They were about a league off, drifting together with sails lowered. Helgi had set course towards them.
‘What do you reckon?’ said Raul.
‘Take us closer.’
They drew within half a mile of the ships. Helgi’s vessel had already run up on them.
‘Looks like one of them’s lost its rudder,’ Raul said.
‘Bring us within hailing distance.’
Raul manoeuvred
‘I forget his name,’ said Vallon.
Raul looked at him oddly. ‘Fulk, Captain. You broke his wrist the night you arrived at the castle.’
‘So I did. Find out where we are.’
Raul pointed at the distant coast. ‘What land is that?’
Someone shouted an answer that made Raul whistle. ‘We’re more than a day’s sail east of North Cape. The storm’s driven us right round the top of Norway.’
Helgi and some of his men had rowed to the crippled ship and were in discussion with its master. Raul established a dialogue with the other Iceland skipper.
‘They ain’t got a spare rudder,’ he reported. ‘They’re going to tow the ship to a haven.’
Vallon searched the vague coastline. ‘Does the land have a name?’
‘The captain called it Bjarmaland. Nothing there but wild men and beasts. I’ve heard of the place. It’s north of Rus.’
Vallon eyed the sea behind them. ‘It’s going to be a long haul to the Baltic.’
Raul pulled at his beard. One of his eyes had grown a blain like a polyp. ‘We’ll have to land, too. Water’s running low and Wayland’s nearly out of food for the falcons.’
‘What do you know about the route down the Norway coast?’
‘It ain’t easy. We have to follow a passage between a chain of skerries and the mainland, rip currents and whirlpools all the way. There’s one place where the ocean pours into the vast pit of the abyss and sucks ships down to hell. The Maelstrom they call it.’
‘Perhaps we can persuade one of the Icelanders to pilot us.’
‘Another ship!’ Syth cried.
The straggler was more than a league to the south, its sail just breaking the horizon. They watched it grow larger.
‘She’s damaged, too,’ said Raul. ‘She’s crabbing. And see how low she sits.’
Wayland grabbed a shroud and sprang onto the gunwale. He pulled himself as high as he could and peered from beneath his hand.
Vallon saw him frown. ‘Anything wrong?’
‘It isn’t an Iceland ship.’
‘What is it then?’
Wayland looked down. ‘It’s a drakkar. A dragon ship.’
Raul slapped his thigh. ‘Why didn’t I spot it myself?’ He faced Vallon’s puzzled stare. ‘A Viking longship, Captain. A warship. That’s why her hull’s so low. She’s built long and lean for speed. There ain’t nothing wrong with her steering. She’s aiming to get leeside of us before attacking.’
No one on the Icelandic ships had recognised the danger. Helgi and the captain of the damaged ship were locked in argument. Helgi’s ship had a spare rudder and he wasn’t prepared to part with it.
‘You’d better warn them,’ said Vallon.
Raul’s news prompted a moment’s stillness, then the Icelanders scuttled like panicked rats. A woman threw back her head in a despairing wail.
The longship had drawn close enough for Vallon to see the dragon head carved on its stempost. Figures swarmed and the ship’s hull bristled.
‘Taken to their oars,’ Raul said. ‘Must know we’ve recognised them.’
‘How many men will she be carrying?’
‘At least thirty. They’re pirates or slavers and I say we don’t wait around to find out which.’
‘You said they’re faster than us.’
‘Faster under sail, faster under oar. The sooner we get going, the better our chances.’
Vallon gnawed on his lip. ‘Bring us alongside.’
‘Captain, I know longships and the kind of man that sails on them.’
‘I won’t ask a second time.’
Raul’s mouth crimped. He marched off flinging out orders. Helgi’s vessel had come alongside the rudderless ship and was sawing against its hull. The crew and passengers were abandoning the cripple. Men bundled its sail onto Helgi’s ship and slashed the rigging. Others threw bales and other items of cargo across. Helgi oversaw the transfer of passengers. When Raul hailed him, he flapped his arm in a dismissive wave that made Vallon’s blood seethe.
‘Ask him what he plans to do.’
Raul bellowed across the gap. Two people on different ships called out together, jabbing in the direction of the longship.
