Before her the camp lay in ruins. A few beaten dogs prowled through the broken remnants of nets and the smashed husks of pots. None of the tents had survived, leaving only blackened circles where the charred remains of wood lay scattered across the earth. Here and there traces of their former occupants lay scattered amongst the wreckage: a child’s toy, the sole of a shoe or the broken rim of a drinking horn. But Iwa was too tired to notice as another jab of the spear drove her on, her tread hardly faltering as she walked past groups of men clad in armour and rows of spears that glistened in the cold morning sun.
Now that they were back in the camp some of Eber’s courage returned. He drove her past a couple of armed men, slouched over a few large casks, spears held loosely in their hands. Maybe they’d been set to watch over the approach to the camp, but neither seemed to be paying much attention, their faces sweating under open-faced helms.
‘What happened to you?’ One of the men nodded to her captor.
‘Grunmir,’ came the reply. There was a muted chuckle, followed by an angry jab of the spear. ‘Get a move on,’ Eber said, anxious to get away from the looks of mirth around him. ‘Lest you feel my boot plant itself in your backside.’
Iwa was led into what remained of the camp. Only then did she notice the ships beached on the shore and not even another jab of the spear kept her from faltering. She’d seen boats before, small crafts of leather and hide which the traders would paddle upriver, canoes too, but nothing like this. These were built for the open sea, sleek hulls curled along the keel to fit snugly as a well cobbled shoe. And, as she was prodded forward, she imagined that they could almost have been the slippers of some malignant deity.
There were four of them, pulled up from the water and fixed to the earth by ropes. Rows of brightly coloured shields hung along the sides. Each ship must have been large enough to hold a hundred men at least, probably more. They must have been built by giants, she thought as she was herded past. The ships’ prows curved upwards like the necks of giant swans, ending in the carved shapes of snarling fire lizards.
Each carried a single mast, from which a huge leather tarpaulin was hung and fixed to the earth to form a tent. A fifth ship, larger than the others, had been hauled to the centre of the camp. Here the tarpaulin was more complex: wooden poles lifted a central section to make a canopied doorway and a line of broad steps led to the side of the ship and into the darkness beyond. Two guards in mail coats stood at either side, the sun glinting across painted shields as, above them, the goat’s head standard fluttered.
Another shove brought her to her senses. At the far end of the inlet two more ships lay beached against the shore. They were much like the others, except that no shields hung along their sides, but there was something odd about them. Despite her captor, Iwa couldn’t help but peer over. It took her a moment to realise what the difference was. It wasn’t the actual ships themselves but rather the groups of armed men who stood around them, spears held tight, whilst others polished shields or threw stones at starving dogs. There was a tension about the men, anxious glances cast back towards the ships. At first she thought that somebody important must live there, but then she noticed the line of broken nets and blackened stakes that formed a makeshift barrier around them.
At the other end of the inlet was another ship, set apart from the others, and it was to this that she was guided. Here too men stood guard, but they took their ease and there was little, if anything, in the way of a barrier.
As she reached the ship, her captor stopped. ‘You could have saved a drop for me,’ he said. Iwa didn’t dare look round, so it was a second before she realised that he wasn’t talking to her. A little way off, two men sprawled across the ground, their eyes heavy and their beards stained with vomit.
‘Didn’t that Grunmir sent you to scout the ridge?’ one of them muttered.
‘That’s little excuse.’ Eber kicked out but his foot fell short of the man, who laughed at him.
‘It’s alright for you, taking your ease back here when there’s work to be done.’
‘When there’s work to be done you’re sure to never be found, old man.’
‘Just you wait until it’s your turn. I’ve never seen anything like this forest, crawling with all sorts of Leszy and Bereginya. Who knows what kind of spirits are hiding in all that? I’d rather take my chances on the open steppe, where a man might see the path ahead.’
‘It was only a little vodka, anyhow,’ one of the others cut in. His voice was lazy as he rested against the side of the ship. ‘And besides, we reckon on Yanush having his own secret stash.’
‘Which Grunmir wolfed,’ Eder said sulkily.
‘What’s with the girl?’ One of the men turned his spear lazily in Iwa’s direction.
‘We caught her hiding, out by the river.’
‘Now that’s the kind of fish I wouldn’t mind catching,’ the man chuckled. ‘Maybe we should go and see what else the river has to offer?’ Her captor swore under his breath as the side of the tarpaulin was lifted and she was bundled inside.
All at once the stench hit her, the scent so acrid that the air seemed
