Caitlin’s eyes blazed. ‘Helgi is not a coward and if I tell him you said so, he’ll make you swallow your words in blood.’
‘Tell him what you like, but be warned. If he plays false with me, I’ll cut him down like a rabid cur.’ He advanced another step. ‘I command here. His life, your life, the lives of all you Icelanders — they’re at my disposal and subject to my mercy.’ Another step. ‘Do you understand?’
Caitlin looked for rescue in all directions.
‘I want an answer.’
‘It’s not easy to put a bridle on Helgi’s temper.’
‘Then take care not to inflame it.’
Caitlin stared at him, blood mounting in her cheeks. ‘You are a wicked man.’
‘Oh?’
‘You killed your wife.’
‘I did.’
Her eyes remained focused on his, fear and revulsion vying with some other emotion. She drew in breath and opened her mouth to speak, then changed her mind. She looked quickly around, perhaps worried that Helgi was watching, before glancing fiercely back at Vallon.
‘Don’t speak to me again.’
Watching her flit between the trees, Vallon felt oddly bucked up by the encounter.
The rain lasted all day. Shearwater lay on the mud and every moment Vallon expected Garrick to come running into camp with news that the Vikings were on the march or were mounting some action that Vallon hadn’t anticipated. There were so many variables to consider. By the time twilight had deepened to dark, he had a splitting headache.
They lit fires. Around one of them he held his war council.
‘Garrick hasn’t returned,’ he began. ‘That’s good. It means the Vikings are still in their camp.’
‘They might have caught him,’ Drogo said.
‘If they had, the dog would have let us know.’ Vallon turned to Raul. ‘Is the ship ready?’
‘We’ve fixed the hole. We still have to repair the crossbeam.’
‘When Garrick returns, he’ll move the ship across the river with the women and old folk. The Viking spies mustn’t see what we’re doing.’
‘Why don’t we use the dog to lead us to them? Kill them one by one.’
‘I doubt we’d get them all. Besides, I want them to keep watching. Garrick will need a couple of oarsmen. Tell Helgi to select two of the weaker Icelanders.’
Helgi muttered grudging agreement.
Drogo mended the fire with a stick. ‘The night’s not so black that the Vikings won’t work out that we’ve left the camp.’
‘We’ll leave a couple of men to walk up and down and show themselves in front of the fires.’
Drogo tossed the stick into the embers. ‘This isn’t my style. I fight battles. I don’t stage shadow shows.’
‘I’m not seeking a battle. I’d cut the Vikings’ throats while they slept if the chance offered itself.’
An urgent pattering cut Drogo’s answer off. He reached for his sword. ‘Put it away,’ said Wayland. ‘It’s the dog.’
It loped out of the dark and placed its head close to Wayland’s. He stroked its ears. ‘The Vikings are still in their camp.’ The dog flopped down, its eyes red in the firelight. ‘Here’s Garrick.’
Vallon rose. ‘What news?’
Garrick caught his breath. ‘All day the Vikings did nothing but mend the sail and eat and …’
‘And what?’
‘Sir, they abused the two women grievously.’
‘What’s he saying?’ Helgi asked.
‘They’re raping the women,’ Vallon said, his attention still fixed on Garrick. ‘Did you form any idea of their intentions?’
Garrick slumped down. ‘I think they planned to move against us at dusk. They took the prisoners off the ship and formed up at the river. I was sure they were about to embark, but then some sort of omen revealed itself. Two ravens flew across the river from different sides. When they met, they circled into the sky, talking together in croaks, then they separated and flew away to different quarters. Thorfinn seemed to interpret this as a bad sign because he made an angry gesture and walked back through his men, pushing them out of his way. Soon after that, it grew too dark to see and I thought it best to return.’
Vallon tapped Drogo’s knee. ‘We must set the ambush well before dawn.’
‘They might come by a different route.’
‘Wayland will let us know what path they take.’
‘If it stays as dark as this, they won’t come at all.’
‘The sky could clear at any time. We have to be ready.’
‘Why not use the dark to our advantage? Get Wayland and his dog to guide us to their camp. Ride on them as they lie sleeping.’
‘Not a bad plan if we had the right men to put it into action. Instead, half our force have never used a sword in anger.’ He looked up as two shadows approached. He shifted sideways. ‘Come and join us.’
Hero and Richard settled in the space he’d made. ‘We’ve been testing recipes for an incendiary,’ Hero said. ‘We achieved the best results with birchbark and dry pine needles soaked in turpentine, seal oil and sulphur.’
‘What’s he talking about?’ said Drogo.
Vallon held up a hand. ‘Can you demonstrate?’
Hero raised a mortar over the fire.
‘Careful,’ Vallon said. ‘We don’t want a display of pyrotechnics.’
Hero emptied the mixture onto the embers. It ignited with a soft whoomph, sending blue and yellow flames three feet into the air. Everyone recoiled. The flames sputtered and died down, leaving the stench of tar and brimstone hanging in the damp air.
‘Once the fire has ignited,’ said Hero, ‘it can be flooded with more oil without the risk of extinguishing it.’
Drogo chased the fumes away with his hand. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We’re going to burn the longship. Hero, how much of that stuff do you have?’
‘We filled two large sealskins and we have a keg of oil. Father Hilbert collected a bushel of kindling.’
‘Burn the longship?’ said Drogo. ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’
‘Because I wasn’t sure it would work. I’m still not sure, but I think the rewards justify the risk. Raul has volunteered to lead the firing party.’
The German gave a laugh from the crypt. ‘It’s so dark I ain’t sure I’ll be able to find the longship. I won’t see where the sentries are hiding.’
‘Wayland will make his way back to the Viking position after we’ve reached the ambush site. Arrange a system of signals with him.’
‘What if the enemy’s too strong?’
‘I don’t think they’ll leave more than six guards.’
‘Six! How many will be with me?’
Vallon looked at Drogo. ‘I need three men to go with Raul.’
‘Forget this folly. You said yourself that we needed every man for the ambush.’
‘It isn’t folly. However many we throw against the Vikings, we won’t kill them all. And we won’t come out of the encounter unscathed. Last night you said that Shearwater was our only means of deliverance. By the same measure, the dragon ship is our greatest threat. Destroy it and we render the Vikings impotent.’
Drogo crossed his arms. ‘Fulk and I fight on horseback.’
‘I’m not asking you to join the firing party.’ Vallon turned to Raul. ‘Explain my plan to Helgi. Tell him we need three Icelanders to make it work.’
Helgi gave his response before Raul had finished speaking. The German pulled a face at Vallon. ‘He won’t do it. He says that scattering our force will fatally weaken it.’
Vallon rocked back. ‘Drogo, you tell him and make sure he knows I won’t take no for an answer. ‘
‘I can’t force him to act against his will.’
Vallon leaned forwards and allowed a long pause before he spoke. ‘We settled that I’m in command.’
‘On this matter I agree with Helgi. We’re already sending two men away with the ship. We should concentrate our strength against
one target.’
Vallon struck the ground. ‘I don’t give a damn what you think!’
Drizzle hissed on the dying fire. The silence stretched so thin that someone had to break it.
‘I’ll go with Raul,’ Hero said.
Eyes swung.
‘And I’ll go with you,’ said Richard.
‘That settles it,’ said Drogo. ‘Richard attacking the longship … It’s crackpot from first to last.’
Vallon looked up with ominous deliberation. ‘I admit I’ve made some foolish decisions. I should have killed you when you landed on Iceland. I should have sailed away when Helgi spurned my advice to unite against the Vikings. I shouldn’t have risked my company’s lives rescuing you and those useless Icelanders.’ His voice thickened. ‘It’s time you gave something in return.’
‘Helgi was mistaken in not standing up to the pirates, I grant you that.’ Drogo looked up. ‘But you can’t blame him for refusing to deal with you after your gross conduct towards his sister.’
‘My gross conduct …!’ Vallon sprang up. ‘I’ve heard enough. You and that puffed-up brat can fight your own campaign. From now on I’ll look after the interests of my own company. Up you get, men. We’re taking the ship across the river.’
Raul gripped his arm as he stormed away. ‘About time, Captain.’
‘Give him the men.’
Caitlin’s voice. Vallon stopped in his tracks.
Figures scrambled up around the fire and a furious argument erupted, Helgi shouting and Caitlin giving back as good as she got.
Raul tugged at Vallon. ‘Leave them to it.’
‘Wait.’
‘Captain, don’t go back on your word. We ain’t ever going to be trusting that lot.’
A crescendo from Caitlin, followed by the sound of someone storming off. Silence, and then Drogo’s outline advancing against the flames.
‘Vallon, are you still there?’
Raul gripped tighter. ‘No, you ain’t.’
‘Three good fighting men and I won’t settle for less.’
‘You’ve got them.’
‘Raul will choose them. Don’t fob me off with cowards.’
‘Very well.’
Vallon gave a sigh. ‘Garrick?’
‘Here, sir.’
‘I want you to row the ship across the river without alerting the Viking spies. You’ll be carrying the non-combatants.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Vallon felt around in the dark. ‘Hero, it was brave of you to offer your services, but there’s no need for you and Richard to go with Raul.’
‘Yes, there is. We talked about it and agreed that we didn’t want to stay with the women. Besides, we know how to fire the incendiary.’
XXXI
The fires were faint red smudges in the blackness when Vallon accompanied the women and old folk down to the riverbank. Even standing at the water’s edge, he couldn’t see Shearwater moored only a few feet away.
‘Garrick?’
‘Here, sir.’
In darkness Vallon helped the evacuees climb aboard. His hand closed around a woman’s arm, soft and resilient.
‘Let go,’ Caitlin said in a strangled whisper. ‘I don’t need your help.’
Vallon held on. ‘But I’m grateful for yours.’
She must have turned. Her breath feathered his face and he smelled her perfumed sweat. Her hand cupped his neck, drew him closer.
‘Vallon, bring Helgi back safe.’
She was gone from his grasp, only scent and sensation remaining. Garrick’s murmur restored him to the moment.
‘Everyone aboard, sir.’
Vallon stepped back. ‘What’s the state of the tide?’
‘Still rising.’
‘Make haste then.’
‘How will we know if it’s safe to return?’
‘You’ll know.’
Vallon listened for splashes that would betray their departure. He heard only a few muffled strokes soon lost in the random river noises.
‘I don’t like letting Shearwater out of our sight,’ Raul murmured. ‘If things don’t go our way, Drogo and Helgi might try to seize her.’
‘One threat at a time.’
Vallon returned to the camp and lit a torch and made a pretence of inspecting the defences. The rain was still falling when he went to take up a waiting position by one of the fires. Drogo and Helgi had crept away to muster the Icelanders and saddle the horses. Vallon stared into the embers, the pulsing coals shaping patterns that might have been a prefiguration of his destiny if he’d had the means to interpret them.
‘Raul and his raiders are waiting by the river,’ Wayland murmured.
Vallon riddled his eyes. ‘I’m ashamed. You catch me napping while I run you ragged.’ He shook his head and snorted. He couldn’t see a thing. It was so dark that he almost lost his balance when he stood. ‘Take my arm.’
Wayland led him to the bank. Only the muscular swirling of the current told Vallon that he was at the river.
‘Everyone assembled?’
‘Aye,’ Raul answered. ‘And everything loaded.’
‘How will you fire the compound?’
‘Each of us carries a shaded lamp and a firebrand.’
‘The tide’s in rhythm with our plans. You won’t need to use your oars to approach the camp.’
‘Fat lot of good if we can’t see it.’
‘Come here,’ Vallon said.
One by one he embraced them and wished them good luck, the three Icelanders included. Then all six climbed into the invisible boat and pushed off into the invisible river.
Sightless as the blind, he returned to the camp. The fires were down to ash. He stoked them for the benefit of the watchers, then joined Drogo and the rest of the ambush party. In all they numbered fourteen — nine foot soldiers and five cavalrymen.
‘Ready?’
‘The night’s as black as a chimney.’
‘Not to Wayland. Let’s go.’
They used the same method that had served them for their flight from Olbec’s castle, each man holding on to a knotted rope with Wayland pathfinding. The dog went ahead to check that the route was clear and in the rear came the horses with their hooves muffled in sailcloth. It was a tetchy advance, the men tripping over branches and cursing the bogs and bloodsucking insects until Vallon grew so incensed with their racket that he felt his way down the line threatening to kill the next fool who railed against nature.
He and Drogo had decided on the ambush site with Wayland on their return from the Viking camp. It was on a broad ridge with a wind gap between the trees and it lay on the logical route between the rival positions. By day it offered a good view across to the next ridge and the river on their left. No river to be seen now, no trees, nothing. Vallon had only Wayland’s word that they’d reached the right spot.
‘See what the Vikings are up to. If they move, get back to us as soon as you can.’
The men dropped in their tracks and wrapped themselves against the rain and swarms of bloodsucking insects.
Drogo groped up to Vallon. ‘They won’t attack on a night as foul as this.’
‘Then we’ll have lost nothing more than a night’s sleep.’
Vallon knew that wasn’t true. He pictured the Vikings slumbering while his own force grew weary and demoralised. If the enemy didn’t come tonight, he’d be hard put to impose his authority tomorrow.
Impossible to measure time in the blackout. The mosquitoes burrowed into his hair and brows. His face began to come up in bumps and weals. Men complained at the torment.
‘I’ll cut the tongue out of the next one who makes a sound.’
That didn’t stop them cursing when the drizzle hardened into a drenching shower. Vallon stood with his back to it. He was ready to admit that their night’s work had been wasted when the rain tailed off. There was no warning. The rain simply stopped and a cool draught stirred the trees.
Vallon turned to face the breeze. ‘There’s still time.
’
The clouds peeled away layer by layer. The moon drifted out, bright enough to cast bars across the river and etch the trees in inky outline on the next ridge. Vallon gestured. ‘Gather around, men.’
They shuffled up, shivering and rubbing their limbs. Vallon laughed and patted backs. ‘A little exercise will set you all to rights. Nothing stirs the blood like shedding your enemy’s.’ He looked around. ‘Drogo, position your horses in the trees on the left. Infantry, form up opposite.’ He pointed at a spruce standing isolated in the wind gap, its branches spreading to the ground. ‘I’ll spring the trap from there. The moment I do, shoot a volley of arrows. Drogo, that’s the signal for your force to hit them as hard as you can. Time it well and the Vikings won’t know which way to turn.’
Some of the Icelanders didn’t understand and shrugged at each other. Vallon repeated his orders, wishing he spoke better Norse.
Drogo sniffed. ‘I’m surprised you choose to fight on foot.’
‘Without an experienced soldier at their sides, the Icelanders won’t press home their attack.’
Drogo left to make his dispositions. Most of the sky had cleared and stately white clouds drifted across the indigo gulf. Vallon stiffened at the sound of hurried footfalls.
‘Wayland’s coming.’
The sound grew louder. Vallon narrowed his eyes in concentration. Someone behind him hissed and his eyes bolted around. It couldn’t be Wayland. The footfalls were approaching from the wrong direction. The Vikings must have seen that the camp was deserted and sent a runner to warn their chief.
Vallon ran for cover. ‘Stay hidden. I’ll deal with him.’
A man padded up onto the ridge, hurdled a toppled trunk and raced on. Vallon stepped out into his path at the last moment and the Viking ran himself through the heart with his own momentum. He dropped dead to his knees and Vallon braced one hand on his shoulder to withdraw his sword. As he did so, another figure crested the ridge. He saw Vallon, flailed to a halt and began to back away.
‘After him!’
Half a dozen Icelanders sprang from their hiding places. The Viking flung himself to one side and hared off into the trees.
‘Don’t let him get away!’
Men plunged in pursuit. Vallon heard them tearing through the forest, the noises growing fainter until no sound was left except the wind sighing in the branches and his own thumping heart.
Hawk Quest Page 42