Vallon snorted.
‘You and me know it’s bollocks,’ said Raul. ‘But that’s what the Icelanders believe. If Thorfinn attacks us now, half of them will jump over the side.’
‘Remind him of your sting.’ Vallon turned. ‘Wayland, give them a volley.’
The bolt struck with a meaty thud. A flight of arrows whispered through the dark. Thorfinn laughed. Another volley of arrows swept overhead and a yelp of pain told Vallon that one of them had made a lucky hit. Thorfinn shouted. The longship began to fall back with the tide.
‘Wayland, follow them and mark where they put in. Keep watch on them. Take someone to report back.’
Footsteps ran into the dark. The aurora was fading. Faint pulses of the elusive light showed the longship drifting downriver. Slowly it disappeared around the bend.
‘They won’t be back tonight,’ said Drogo. ‘We’d better establish a camp.’
‘We’ll divide what’s left of the night into two watches, leaving six men on board for each shift. The rest might as well get some hot food into their bellies.’
Vallon posted pickets around the camp. He doubted that Thorfinn would mount a night assault across unfamiliar terrain. But then, he told Drogo, if he were in the Vikings’ place, he would do what was least expected.
Drogo shook his head. ‘They’ll recruit themselves before attacking.’
They were sitting beside a crackling fire, devouring steaks cut from the horse Garrick had killed.
Vallon wiped his greasy fingers, placed his hands on his knees and levered himself up. ‘I need to consult Hero.’
He found him helping to pitch shelters. ‘Have you calculated our position?’
‘I’ve taken a dozen sightings. Even the most optimistic puts us six hundred miles north of our starting point. That means a journey of a thousand miles before we reach the Baltic. We don’t have enough food. Our own supplies won’t last another week and the Icelanders have none to spare. One of the sailing masters told me that we won’t be able to buy or barter fresh supplies within two weeks’ sail.’
‘There’ll be game to hunt, fish to catch. The forest must be full of berries.’
Vallon became aware of Richard. He was sitting next to Hero with his knees drawn up to his chin.
Vallon dropped to a crouch. ‘Don’t worry about Drogo.’
Richard hugged his knees tighter.
Vallon took his arm. ‘Would you have had me condemn the Icelanders to death? I couldn’t take them and leave Drogo.’
‘Why not? It’s no more than he would have done to me.’
‘Why would he want to harm you?’
It all came spilling out. ‘He blames me for the death of our mother. And what warps his mind even more is the fact that Lady Margaret has no affection for him. She has no love for anyone apart from her precious Walter. As a child, I saw how she spurned Drogo when he tried to court her attention. I never even tried. I learned early on that cuffs and insults were all I’d receive from that lot. I thought I’d escaped them, found friends who cared for me. Yet though I’ve travelled to the end of the world, it seems that I can’t shake Drogo off.’
‘We do care for you. We’re your family now. Hero and Wayland and all the other steadfast souls who’ve shared our voyage. I won’t let Drogo harm you, I promise.’
Vallon rose and made his way to the fire, stepping around slumbering bodies. He stretched out, burdened with worries. No sooner had he laid his head down than Raul was shaking him awake.
‘Syth’s back.’
Vallon blundered up. The fire had died to coals and clouds fogged the moon. He’d slept for longer than he’d intended. Syth crouched panting by the fire. He hunkered down beside her. ‘Did you find their lair?’
She accepted a piece of meat from Raul and sank her teeth into it. ‘They’re in a bay below the crook in the river. On this side, less than two miles from here.’
Vallon glanced towards the river. Mist lapped against the shore. He checked the position of the moon, then turned to Drogo. ‘We’d better take a look before it grows light.’
Syth gave some of the meat to the dog. It stretched its jaws wide and closed its teeth on the offering with a grip that wouldn’t have pricked a bubble, then it growled at the men and slunk off. ‘You’ll need the dog to find Wayland and avoid the Vikings. Four of them landed and hurried back this way. They’re watching us.’
Helgi insisted on accompanying the patrol. Vallon took Garrick along to relieve Wayland. The dog led them into the forest by a roundabout route, baring its teeth at a rise over to their left to indicate where the Viking spies had posted themselves. Even with the clouded moon to light the way, the party found it tough going across fallen trees and rank heather and boggy hollows.
Helgi stumbled into a hole. ‘The girl said two miles. We must have come twice that distance.’
‘Not so loud,’ Vallon whispered. ‘The Vikings will have posted sentries. The dog’s leading us around them.’
He sighted on the declining moon. A lifting of the dark showed east where he thought west should be. The dog was sitting down in front of him. It turned and looked at him, then rose and trotted on.
Vallon caught his first glimpse of the river since leaving camp. Then it had been to his left. Now it was below him to the right. The dog must be leading them back upriver. They hurried on and climbed a hill. Below was the river again and a bay swathed in mist. The dog had disappeared and so had the moon. Vallon smelled wood smoke. He turned in a circle.
‘Over here.’
Wayland lay couched under a spruce tree, completely hidden by branches that draped across the ground like a skirt. Vallon and the others pushed in beside him. Garrick handed him food and a leather water bottle. Wayland gulped thirstily.
‘Are they in the bay?’
Wayland nodded, still drinking. He put the bottle down and gasped. ‘There are sentries on the next ridge. I thought it wise to hide downriver where they wouldn’t think to look.’ He lifted the bottle and drank again.
Now the lie of the land made sense to Vallon.
‘How many of them are left?’ Drogo demanded.
Vallon saw Wayland’s eyes turn in his direction. ‘You can answer,’ he said. ‘For the moment, we’re allies.’
‘It was too dark to count them,’ said Wayland. He touched Vallon’s sleeve. ‘Sir, I’m anxious about the falcons. I didn’t feed them yesterday and they’ll go hungry again if I don’t find food today. I know the peril we’re in, but you mustn’t lose sight of what brought us north. If we escape the pirates but the falcons starve, I won’t count it a triumph.’
‘There’s plenty of fresh horseflesh.’
‘I don’t know if falcons can stomach such coarse fare.’
Dawn was stealing over the forest. Vallon wriggled closer. ‘I can’t spare you or your dog to go hunting. You’re our eyes and ears. We have to float
They waited. The sky brightened. Wayland fell asleep. His dog’s forelegs twitched in a dream.
A thin stylus of smoke rose from the vapours hiding the bay. Vallon heard occasional voices and mechanical sounds. A weak yellow sun began to lift clear of the forest and the mist on the river dispersed, revealing the longship moored at the head of the bay. Inside, roped together at the stern, were the surviving Icelanders from the captured knarr — six men and two women. The Vikings had taken down the torn sail and eleven of them sat mending its edges, squatting like a convention of tailors. Two more were chopping firewood and another was stirring a cooking pot slung from a trivet. One of them sat on his own with a blood-stained bandage around his arm. Their chieftain went among them with a curious loping gait. He wore a wolfskin cape over a short-sleeved leather jerkin that exposed massive arms covered with tattoos from wrist to elbow. He was even bigger than Vallon remembered, standing a head above the next tallest man in his company.
