‘They’re going to cut and run.’
Vallon watched the twinkling rhythm of the longship’s oars. ‘The Vikings won’t be satisfied with an empty hulk. Tell him we can resist them if we stand together.’
Raul trumpeted the proposal and strained for the answer. He drew back, sniffed and spat. ‘Anything you say, he’ll do the opposite. We got to get going.’
Vallon saw light gleam on rusty mail. ‘Drogo!’
The Norman turned and stared across the swell.
‘Between us we can muster enough fighting men to repel them. You know how deadly Wayland and Raul are with their bows. We’ll kill half a dozen Vikings before they can board. Tell Helgi.’
The Icelander was helping an elderly couple off the ship. Hands reached up to receive them. They were the last evacuees. Helgi sprang to his own ship, drew his sword and cut the crippled vessel loose. His crew hoisted sail and the ship gathered way.
Vallon spat with contempt. ‘Picks fights with strangers, then flees from pirates who’d gang-rape his sister in front of him before cutting out his heart.’ Vallon wiped his mouth. ‘All right. Get us under way.’
The two Iceland ships were steering north-east, sailing close-hauled, Helgi’s ship drawing ahead.
‘Why aren’t they sailing downwind?’ Vallon asked.
‘Makes sense,’ said Raul. ‘Longships have shallow draughts for raiding up rivers. Their keels don’t bite as deep as ours and they make more leeway sailing across the wind. That’s our only advantage.’
Vallon watched the abandoned knarr drifting in their wake. As the longship closed on it, all the oars rose to the vertical, then dipped and disappeared. The longship glided up to its prey.
‘How many rowers?’ Vallon asked Wayland.
‘Sixteen each side.’
The Vikings swarmed aboard the knarr. Vallon hadn’t given any thought to the time and he was surprised to see how late it was. The longship and its victim diminished in their wake. Dusk was beginning to encroach when the two outlines separated.
‘They’re coming after us,’ said Raul.
‘They won’t catch us before dark.’
Raul eyed the weather vane. ‘Wind’s shifting to the north. The Vikings know we’re making for the coast. They’ll aim to get ahead of us and lie in wait.’
‘Any ideas?’
‘Wait until dark, let the Vikings sail past and then lie up on the weather side. By morning they could be twenty miles downwind of us. Too far to claw back. That’ll give us plenty of sea room to find a safe haven.’
‘They might have thought of that.’
‘They might.’
‘The sky’s clearing and the moon’s waxing full. We don’t want the Vikings to find us drifting. Hold your course.’
‘Aye, Captain.’
Vallon gave a yawn that threatened to dislocate his jaw. ‘Wake me if … ’ He sketched a tired wave.
He tottered to his pallet, lay down and felt for his sword. His eyes fluttered and closed.
He woke batting away a hand. Someone was shaking him. He swung himself up into a sitting position and stretched his eyes wide.
‘It’s gone midnight,’ Wayland said. ‘Raul said to wake you if there was any change.’
Vallon blinked up. Everything had been transformed. The falcon on Wayland’s fist seemed irradiated by white fire. The dog sat beside its master with its eyes burning pale and its hoary shape shadowed in deepest black on the deck. Vallon hoisted himself up. A full moon ringed by a halo cast a gaseous light over the ocean. Small clouds like puffs of smoke drifted low across the horizon, brightening as they crossed the moon’s path. The sea had gelled into a huge plane of crumpled silver. Over to port a sail shone.
‘Helgi’s ship,’ said Wayland.
Vallon spied another sail far away down their glittering wake.
‘That’s the other Iceland ship.’
Vallon probed every quarter. ‘The Vikings?’
‘No sign.’
A flight of meteorites glided overhead and disappeared one by one into the furthest reaches of space. The falcon swivelled her head and preened. She roused and ran her beak down her flight feathers. Vallon stroked her breast.
‘How quickly you’ve tamed her.’
‘Not my doing. She’s naturally gentle.’
‘How are the other falcons faring?’
‘They’re healthy enough so far. They don’t suffer from seasickness as men do. My main worry is running out of food.’
‘We’ll land as soon as we’ve shaken off the Vikings.’
‘What will we do if they attack us?’
‘We’ll make it go hard for them. How are you off for arrows?’
‘I’ve got a full quiver.’ Wayland paused. ‘It’s Syth I’m worried about — if I’m killed, I mean. I know what the Vikings will do to her.’
‘Don’t believe everything Raul tells you.’
‘It’s true, though. You know it is. Syth and I have talked about it. She has a knife, but I’m not sure she’ll be able to use it if the time comes.’
‘Nobody’s going to harm her.’
‘But if the worst happens …’
What could Vallon say? That there were grimmer fates for a young woman than being captured by sea pirates? That if Wayland was dead, it didn’t matter to him what happened to Syth?
‘If it’s in my power, I’ll make sure she doesn’t fall into the Vikings’ hands.’
‘Thank you.’
*
Vallon stood watch until the moon grew wan and the stars that had guided them lay low in the east. The rest of the company rose and stood beating their arms across their chests and blowing into their hands. A cold breeze from the north-west had carried them back to within sight of land. Helgi’s ship ploughed a furrow a couple of miles ahead. The other vessel had dropped further behind. No sign of the longship.
Garrick brought him a breakfast of bread and a bowl of purplish gloop. Vallon examined it at arm’s length.
‘It’s dulse, sir.’
‘Dulse.’
‘Seaweed, sir. The Icelanders eat it in winter to keep scurvy at bay.’
Vallon spooned up a tiny portion, closed his eyes and tasted. His mouth puckered. He spat it out and slid the mess over the side.
‘We’ve been at sea for less than two weeks. Don’t tell me we’ve run out of proper food.’
‘I can fetch you an egg, sir.’
Vallon brightened. ‘A fresh egg?’
‘Afraid not. They’ve been preserved in ash since last year.’
Vallon grimaced. He’d seen Icelanders sucking the green and watery contents of such eggs. ‘Leave it. The bread will suffice.’
Garrick leaned his hands on the gunwale and surveyed the ocean. ‘Looks like we’ve lost them.’
‘I’m not so sure.’
Garrick nodded towards the laggard in their wake. ‘If they do show up, they’ll get that one first.’
The breeze carried them closer to the coast. Vallon watched it reveal itself. Undulating barrens tinged with the colours of autumn. No mountains or trees. Helgi was heading for the mouth of a large river. The sun reached its zenith. Both Iceland ships were still visible when one of Vallon’s sweeps picked up something behind the
