‘Can you get me to Ladoga? It’s a long way to walk.’
‘I can escort you there but I need your help getting access to the prince. You are his servant, are you not — along with the wolfman?’
‘I am his servant but it’s a trading town; you can walk in there yourself. You don’t look like a man who will be kept out of somewhere he wants to go.’
‘The prince seeks to protect her and will be looking for attackers. That much has my sister foreseen. But neither he nor she will not suspect you. You can find her. You can tell me where she is.’
‘Your magic seems weak. Do your prophecies fail you?’
‘We are moving in the realms of the gods. Knowledge is not easily won.’ He gestured to his face.
‘Why should I risk my life for you?’
‘I could kill you here.’
‘And then how shall I serve you? You need to sweeten the deal, Raven.’ Leshii was surprised by his own boldness but his merchant’s instinct told him his was the stronger bargaining position.
‘Here,’ said the Raven. From his pack he took a necklace of twisted gold, hanging with rubies. ‘This is yours. I have a hundred further dihrams in my pack.’
Leshii took the necklace. It was a beautiful thing. He had never seen its like, a twist of golden cables with deep red stones dangling beneath. It had to be worth two thousand dihrams, easily.
‘Keep it,’ said the Raven.
‘Aren’t you afraid I might not honour my bargain?’
‘You will honour it,’ said the Raven, and Leshii knew that if he valued his life he would.
Leshii did a quick sum in his head. That money was enough to see him through ten years of retirement or even twenty if he went easy on the dancing girls and fine wines, something he had no intention of doing. And the good luck did not stop there. This weird creature was certainly no servant of Mithras, as the Romans would have had it. He clearly hadn’t a clue about money. There might be more to be had out of him. He would have to keep out of Helgi’s way — maybe even travel down to Byzantium, but a rich retirement in the greatest city on earth was nothing to be afraid of.
Leshii offered a word of thanks to Perun and puckered up his lips as if in thought.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘let me see what I can do.’
51
Aelis went to the stern of the longship. There was no talk at all as the men put on their war gear, only small scrapes and clangs as mail coats, axes, swords and daggers were unpacked from barrels, spears unstrapped, helmets tied on and shields put into place on the side of the boat.
The purpose in the men’s actions frightened Aelis. There were no faint hearts, she could tell. These men were used to battle and ready for what was ahead of them. There was excitement, slight nervousness, even mild glee. It reminded her of how the ladies at Loches had reacted when a marriage was arranged for one of them. But there was a darker current here. It was almost as if the men were conjuring something between themselves, something that smelled of iron and blood, something that waited behind their eyes like a wolf in a byre, ready to spring out.
‘Best if we can keep the element of surprise.’ Giuki’s voice was low.
‘They haven’t heard us yet and it’s dark enough that we won’t be seen until we’re almost upon them. They’re up at the monastery. We can kill the guards and be out to sea by the time they react,’ said a man by his side.
‘We’ve got a couple of bows. Get them forward as soon as you can. There’s a lot of ground between the monastery and boats. We’ll make them pay for every step. Regin, are you ready?’
From forty feet away across the water came a strong low voice: ‘As we’ll ever be, lord.’
‘Signal to the other boat to follow me in carefully. We don’t know the waters and don’t want to tear our hulls out. Let’s go. Quietly. And let’s make quick work of it.’
The boats turned towards the shore. Aelis gripped her sword, still in its scabbard. Her disguise put her at more risk now than if she was wearing a gown and wimple.
Giuki came to her. ‘Stay here in the stern. There won’t be too many guarding their boats. It will be done very quickly.’
Aelis nodded. The longboats streaked towards the shore. She couldn’t believe the men on the beached boats couldn’t hear the straining of the oars.
Then they did. ‘Raiders!’ She recognised the Norse word.
Now all attempt at quiet left the men on the attacking ships; all caution was abandoned.
The drakkar had seemed narrow and cramped, even badly designed, while they were making their way down the coast. It had been quick but unsteady. Now she saw its true function. As a sailing boat it worked about as well as a sword works for cutting cheese. That is, it can do it, but it’s not the job it’s intended for. Under oar, sprinting for the shore, the craft was transformed, singing through the waves like an arrow through the air. She saw the reason for the shields on the sides. They increased the freeboard. At speed the ship created more of a wake, and might even be swamped and sink if it ran too fast. The shields added half a cubit’s height to the sides. Aelis had a sensation of great speed, the bulk of the land looming closer, the great moon behind her, the monastery low on the horizon of the headland as if crouching. The beach was white in the moonlight.
A tumult of shouts erupted from the attacking boats. She heard the names she’d heard screamed from the walls of Paris: ‘Tyr is with me! Thor guides my hand! The wolf and the crow will feed tonight! Odin, death-maker, is our king and battle mate! Your ancestors are waiting for you, Danes, and I will send you to meet them!’
One man from the beached longboats went tearing across the sand towards the monastery. The others seemed to panic. They had been left there to guard the boats from land attack; they had not anticipated an assault from the sea. There was no time to launch the craft and they couldn’t outrun or outmanoeuvre three quick ships. They knew that if they ran for reinforcements their ships would be taken. So they leaped out of the boats to meet the onrushing drakkar, knowing they would die and calling out to say that they knew.
‘My father will have a welcome for me in the halls of the All Father tonight. You can serve my drinks, foreigner, because I’m going to take you with me.’
Aelis’s ship crunched into the beach, throwing her forward. She jumped up but already most of the crew were over the side, screaming and hacking. There were perhaps ten of the enemy and they had marshalled themselves well, fighting in close formation, shields locked together, spears forward, trying to kill their opponents as they stepped from the ship.
Some men were leaping onto the empty boats while a scrum of nine or ten struggled to shove one off into the sea. The landing had been chaotic. The moon was not reliable, scudding in and out of the clouds, and the ships had beached some way from each other. No cordon of archers had been set despite Giuki’s orders. In short order the raiders overwhelmed the last of the guards and ran to push a big snekke out to sea. It wouldn’t budge and men were now streaming down the beach from the monastery. Aelis thought there were at least a hundred of them, all armed, though many had not had time to even grab their shields, armour or boots and were sprinting across the hard wet sand barefoot.
Giuki’s men shoving the boats turned to meet the onrushing warriors. Those who had already got into the longships jumped out again onto the beach.
There was no order to attack or defence, just warrior against warrior with the moon turning the wide wet beach into a bridge of light on which men fought to decide who stayed on the earthly side and who passed over into the afterlife.
Aelis was terrified and shrank down in her longship.
A face popped up over the side. She recognised it. It was the big Viking, the fat one she had seen at Leshii’s camp and who had led her to the confessor’s torture. He peered at her in disbelief. Aelis didn’t hesitate. She jumped down from the ship into the sea on the side away from the Viking, falling into waist-high water.
She ran. The berserkers she’d seen at Paris were shoving the drakkar out into the waves. She had to warn
