Einar yelled out, surprise and fright exploding the air from his mouth in a torrent of bubbles. The thing crashed into him and he felt sharp pain at his left shoulder, just where it met his neck.
Forgetting everything, Einar planted his feet on the floor of the cave, pushing himself upwards. He grabbed with both hands at the thing from the darkness, trying to pull it away from him. It felt cold and slimy but hard muscles rippled beneath the thing’s skin. Was it a fish? No, it was too long. It was like a gigantic worm. The thin, waving body, about the thickness of a man’s leg, snaked back into the darkness.
Countless stars exploded in Einar’s mind. His head had cracked against the rock of the cave’s roof. Panic flooded his guts at the thought that he could be trapped. At the same time the jolt of the impact dislodged the creature from his shoulder.
Einar, still holding it with both hands pushed the thing away from him. The water near him was tinged pink. He saw the thing’s blunt head, with large, glaring, fish-like eyes and rows of sharp white teeth in jaws that gnashed at the water, trying to get a grip on his flesh again. It was a monster from a nightmare, one of Loki’s children come from the realm of Hel as they would on the final day of Doom.
Einar punched at its eye with his right fist and felt above with his left hand. As he felt the clammy flesh of the thing against the knuckle of one hand, his other fingers scrabbled along the rock and found the corner that told him where the edge of the cave was. He put both hands up, grabbed the edge and propelled himself up and out of the cavern. Then he kicked and hauled upwards, lungs desperate for air, heading for the light above.
Up and up he went, through the green water, not daring to look below, seeking only the light above. His head burst through the surface, showering water in all directions. Einar gasped in a deep breath then ducked his head down under again, looking down, left, right, anywhere the creature that had attacked him could be below.
All he saw was the sheer, rocky side of the island, disappearing into the gloom below.
Einar raised his head and took another breath, then looked down again, still expecting to see the thing rising up from the depths at him. There was nothing, however, but drifting strands of seaweed.
It must have stayed behind in the cave. Einar raised his head again. Panting, he trod water, trying to catch his breath. He took one more look below. Still nothing was coming for him.
Feeling the stinging at his neck, Einar clapped a hand onto where the thing had bitten him. He pulled it away and saw there was blood on his hands, but not too much. The bite must not be too bad. Then he realised his Thor’s hammer pendant had gone. The creature’s teeth must have torn through the amulet’s leather thong and this was what had saved his flesh from the full savagery of its bite.
‘What’s going on?’ Ricbehrt shouted from above. ‘Is the chest tied on yet?’
Einar was about to blurt out about the creature when something inside him told him to be quiet. He trod water for a couple of seconds, thinking hard.
‘Not yet,’ he said after a moment. ‘It’s tangled up in seaweed. I need something to cut it. Throw me a knife.’
‘Not likely,’ Osric said. ‘Give him a blade and he’ll cut the rope we tied to him to stop him swimming away.’
Ricbehrt looked at his Aenglish bodyguard. ‘You can swim, can’t you?’ he said.
Osric sighed and rolled his eyes.
‘Go in and help him,’ Ricbehrt ordered. Then he leaned close, laid a hand on the Osric’s shoulder and added something in a low voice Einar could not hear from the water. Whatever it was, the wide grin that spread across Osric’s face said that it pleased him. He dropped his spear and pulled off his padded leather jerkin, then his sword belt and stripped off his shirt and boots. He drew his seax and grasped it between his teeth. Then he climbed onto the strakes and dived off the side of the ship.
When the Aenglishman resurfaced Einar waited while he got his breath. Osric did his best to conceal the shocking effect the cold water had on him as they both took deep breaths then Einar turned over in the water and led the way downwards to the cave.
As he swam, he felt as if his heart was in his throat. He expected at any moment the strange thing to come rushing up from the darkness below, teeth gnashing. He was gambling that the creature was territorial and its domain was the cave. It had attacked him because he had entered its home. The fact that it had not followed him after he left the cave pointed to that.
But he could be wrong.
They reached the cave mouth and hovered in the water just outside it, arms and legs beating to stop them rising back up. Einar pointed to the chest nestled amid the fronds of seaweed on the cave floor.
They kicked themselves closer, entering the cave mouth and swimming down to the chest. Einar grasped the rope and continued threading it through the last handle. He then had to tie it off but his fingers fumbled at the task. This was only partly deliberate. He kept glancing up and away from his task, expecting the water worm to come rushing from the darkness of the cave at any moment. At his third failure to tie the knot Osric pushed him out of the way. Einar allowed himself to be shoved aside and drifted backwards as the Saxon finished tying the knots with deliberate, angry motions.
Then he turned towards him. Einar saw the look of delight and malice in his eyes as Osric reached for the dagger clenched between his teeth. The meaning of just what Ricbehrt had said to him on the ship became clear.
Einar saw the long, thin body of the creature streaking out of the blackness of the cave, mouth wide, showing the countless sharp teeth. He saw the look of shock on Osric’s face as the jaws clamped onto the back of his neck. He was knocked forwards by the impact. Eyes wide, his mouth opened, breath rushing out in a forest of bubbles. His yell was audible even through the water. The knife fell to the cave floor.
Einar knew straight away the creature had struck Osric a more severe blow than its attack on him. It had probably been trying to scare him. Now he was back it was really angry. A cloud of bright red blood enveloped Osric’s head, swirling from where the teeth clamped into the flesh of his neck.
Swimming under Osric’s flailing legs, Einar plucked the dagger from the floor of the cave. He stabbed into the cloud of blood around Osric’s head. The blade struck home, again and again, slitting through flesh and skidding across bone. Whether he hit Osric or the creature Einar had no idea. He paused for a moment, gathering his aim, then drove the knife into Osric’s chest. A torrent of blood spilled into the water. Osric stiffened and twisted, his head came away from the cloud of blood and Einar saw his bulging eyes and open mouth. Incredibly, he still struggled with both hands to unlatch the thing that held the back of his head in the iron grip of its jaws. Einar saw the big eye of the creature and stabbed into that. Now it was the creature that thrashed and twisted in the water.
Something bumped Einar’s leg and he saw the chest rising through the water. He surmised that the blood must have reached the surface and on seeing it, Ricbehrt had assumed it was Einar’s and told his men to start hauling on the rope.
If he had any chance of getting away, this was it. He needed air. Clasping the knife between his teeth he struck for the surface, leaving Osric and the creature finishing their dance of death behind him in the cave.
Einar burst through the surface and took a huge gasp. He looked around. He was a short distance from the ship, something he needed to change fast.
‘Hey!’ a shout from the deck above alerted him to the fact someone had seen him. ‘It’s the Icelander.’
‘Shut up and keep pulling,’ Ricbehrt shouted.
Einar started swimming away from the ship. Behind him he heard a crash as the heavy chest swung out of the water and thumped against the side of the ship.
‘That’s Osric!’ another voice called and Einar realised the Aenglishman must now be on the surface as well.
‘We’ve got the chest. Stop the Icelander! Kill him!’ Ricbehrt shouted.
Einar twisted in the water, risking a glance behind him to assess his situation. Two of Ricbehrt’s men were already running to the stern. He was not far off, maybe ten paces. They had throwing spears in their hands and he was well within their range.
He did not stand a chance.