Roan’s knarr bobbed on its anchor stone in a crescent-shaped bay. The late winter sun glared from a blue sky that was only partly smeared by thin white clouds. The sand of the bay was almost as white as the clouds. The same sand gave the sea an amazing azure colour. The beach ended in gorse bushes. A little way beyond it, dark hillsides and mountains rose. In the other direction the blue sea deepened into dark green ocean. Dark shapes of islands rose all over the horizon.
Einar, Affreca and the Wolf Coats had attracted the attention of those on the ship as it sailed along the coast by building a great fire near the stone fort. They had fanned the flames of the Gaels’ campfire and piled heather and gorse on it until it was blazing away. The wet gorse had produced more smoke than flame but the column of grey rising to the sky was better for getting noticed anyway. Affreca had pointed out that the smoke would attract other Gael warbands as well but Ulrich responded that he aimed to be on the ship before they got anywhere near them.
Roan had spotted the smoke and sailed his ship closer to the shore. The Wolf Coats had run down the hillside, waving and shouting. Seeing them, Roan had got close enough that a combination of shouting and gestures conveyed the message they should follow him along the coast until they came to somewhere safe to anchor.
A little way around the headland they came to the wide bay and now they were all aboard. There was another surprise waiting for them too as they discovered they were not the only survivors of the shipwreck Roan had rescued.
‘Gizur!’ Ulrich said when he saw Thorfinn’s champion. ‘We thought you were dead. Where in Hel’s name did you go?’
‘I thought I was dead,’ the big red-haired man said. ‘I was doing my turn on the tiller and a huge wave washed me overboard. In the dark I didn’t know where I was but the tide took me ashore. Thor was watching over me. He helped me in the storm and gave me the strength to survive.’
Ulrich looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. ‘You’re a lucky man indeed. We all are. If Roan here had not come back to look for us, we’d all be stuck on the Coast of the Gaels.’
‘It was Narfi who insisted we turn back,’ the skipper said, casting a glance at the wide-chested berserker. ‘I thought we’d got separated in the storm and assumed with the faster ship you had sailed on ahead but he was convinced something had happened to you so we turned around.’
‘The Gods sent me a message in my dreams,’ Narfi said. ‘I am convinced of this.’
‘We spotted Gizur on a beach north of here,’ Ayvind said. ‘When we heard his tale and spotted some wreckage, we began to realise something had gone wrong. Gorm and I reasoned that if he had survived then there might be others.’
‘I’m glad you did,’ Skar said.
‘So what now?’ Roan asked Ulrich.
‘We stay on our original course,’ Ulrich replied. ‘We join Aethelstan’s fleet. We find the Raven Banner.’
The sail was unfurled and the anchor stone lifted. Everyone took to the oar benches and soon the ship was powering towards the open ocean. It was not a moment too soon either. On the beach behind them riders arrived, Gael warriors whose weapons glinted in the winter sun. They were too late, however. The sail filled with wind and the ship was under way.
‘Will they send ships after us?’ Einar said.
‘Maybe,’ Ulrich said. ‘Or maybe they were just gathering there to make sure we’d gone.’
As it turned out, no Gael ships followed them. Instead they continued on up the wild coastline of Scotland. At times islands lined the horizon to the west, at others dark mountains, their summits swathed in clouds, dominated the shoreline to the east. As the day drew towards dark the crew raised the canopy over the deck for shelter and settled down around the hearth stone to cook and eat the evening meal. Roan remained at the steering oar at the back of the ship.
Einar was so starving he found the bowl of salted fish boiled in sea water one of the most delicious meals he had ever eaten.
‘By Odin it’s good to be warm and dry,’ Skar said. ‘I’ve been soaked so many times in the last few days I’ll not need be washed for a month.’
Something in his words triggered a memory in Einar from their conversation on leaving Ireland. He turned to Skar and said, ‘Last night, what did you mean about Hakon accepting us if we got washed? I wash every week. We all wash a lot more than his Saxons do.’
Skar chuckled. ‘It’s what they do when you join a Christian army. If you aren’t already a Christian, they wash you. They make you wade into a river or sometimes they have a big tub. You jump in wearing your undershirt and one of their wizards says a few spells. Then he ducks your head under. They give you a new name too. That way you become one of them. A Christian king can say all his army are Christians and victory can be granted by their God.’
Einar frowned. ‘You’ve done this?’
‘Aye, several times,’ Skar said. ‘We all have.’
Einar looked around to see the others nodding in agreement.
‘But you believe in Odin,’ Einar said. ‘Does that not mean you are now a Christian?’
Skar laughed. ‘Magic only works if the God who works it actually exists, lad,’ he said.
‘Besides,’ Ulrich added. ‘Odin would approve. He is the lord of trickery and guile.’
‘Kings like Aethelstan are always at war,’ Skar added. ‘They always need fighting men and they pay for them. They recruit from all over the world so they can’t be fussy about only taking warriors who are already Christians. All that matters to men like Aethelstan is that their men are Christian by the time they go into battle. If you’re a warrior and want their money then it’s what they demand in return. If you don’t do it, you don’t get paid. I’ve been washed and renamed a couple of times now. Alfred they called me once. Another time it was John.’
‘I’ve been renamed Edward,’ Bodvar said. ‘And Godric. Didn’t like that one.’
‘Their God must be blind as Höðr,’ Atli said, shaking his head. ‘He certainly can’t see into men’s hearts.’
‘Or maybe he can, but like any earthly king or jarl he doesn’t care who dies for him,’ Affreca said. ‘As long as he wins.’
After they ate, full darkness fell. There were stars above and Einar felt strangely calm. It was as if now that the thing he had feared most in the world, that the ship he was on would sink, had happened, the thought no longer provoked any fear in him. The worst had happened and he had survived.
As the night wore on, he and Ayvind sang a few songs to pass the time. The others listened as they stared into the dying embers of the fire on the stone. They passed around a couple of wine skins and before long one by one they began to fall asleep.
As Narfi let out a loud snore Gorm got up and came over to where Einar sat cross-legged on the deck, his fingers brushing the strings of Ayvind’s harp.
‘Come, Einar,’ Gorm said, glancing at the sleeping Narfi. ‘Let us take some supper to Roan.’
Einar frowned. ‘That would take both of us?’
Gorm gave him a hard stare then flicked his eyes in the direction of the stern. Ayvind and Gorm then exchanged glances. Ayvind looked at Einar and nodded.
‘Go with him,’ the skald said in a low whisper.
Puzzled, Einar got up. They filled a bowl with some fish and took it to the back of the ship where Roan leaned against the stern pole. His face had its usual, serene expression as if there was nothing he enjoyed more in the world than steering his ship.
‘What’s this about, Gorm?’ Einar said as he passed the fish to Roan.
The big bald man looked over his shoulder then turned back to Einar.
‘I don’t know for sure,’ he said in a low voice. ‘But I think something’s wrong.’
‘What do you mean?’ Einar said, dropping his voice like Gorm and glancing at Roan. The skipper just raised his eyebrows.
‘The last I saw of the Wolf Coat’s ship last night before it disappeared into the storm,’ Gorm said, ‘it looked very like it was being sailed towards the coast. Deliberately.’
‘It could have been the waves,’ Einar said. ‘If Gizur was washed overboard there was no one to steer it. The tide could have washed us onto the rocks.’
‘Tell him,’ Gorm hissed to the skipper.
Roan sighed. ‘I said earlier it was Narfi who wanted us to turn back but it was only ever Gizur they talked about looking for. Not the rest of you. When we picked him up, he seemed pretty sure you were all dead. If we hadn’t seen that fire, we would have been on our way without you. It was as if they knew Gizur would be on the shore waiting for them.’
‘What do we do?’ Gorm said.
Einar thought for a moment.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘This is supposition. One thing though. Until we’re sure they are up to something we must never all sleep while they are awake. I’ll take the first watch tonight.’