promontory ahead of us loomed over the sea, higher than the mast of the Gull , its sides falling off sharply down to a narrow, rocky beach below. When we drew closer, I could see a small building atop the point, and beside it, what looked to be a large pile of brush and wood. As I watched, three men came out of the building and pointed in our direction.
"Watchers," Torvald said. "King Horik's men." He turned toward the stern, where Hastein was standing, also staring at the men. "Hastein?" he asked.
Hastein nodded. "Aye," he said. "Show the peace-shields. Though I do not think they would light the beacon for just two ships."
Torvald went forward and unfastened two shields, each painted solid white, from where they had been secured in the peak of the bow, below the carved, brightly painted dragon's head that topped the Gull 's front stem post. He lashed one on either side of the dragon's head, covering its fierce visage and showing that we came in peace.
Hastein steered the Gull closer to shore as we passed below the watch-post. Torvald pulled the tall standard pole down from the overhead rack, stripped off its cover, and— stepping back to the stern deck to stand beside Hastein— raised the standard so that Hastein's Gull banner rippled back and forth in the breeze above him. Up on the cliff, one of the guards raised his arm overhead, waving in acknowledgement and greeting, and Hastein did the same in reply.
The finger of land we were passing formed the north side of a broad bay. Hastein steered the Gull south now across its mouth, toward a second peninsula that jutted out from the big island's mainland, framing the bay on its south side.
"Where will we stop for the night?" Tore asked him.
"The north shore here is steep and its beach rocky, but there is a spot along the south shore of the bay, near its mouth, where the bottom is smooth and shallow enough for a good anchorage close to the beach," Hastein replied. After we'd sailed on for a short time, crossing most of the distance across to the far side of the bay, he called out, in a louder voice, "Prepare to lower sail. Oarsmen, draw your oars."
We rowed a short way along the south shore of the bay, near its mouth, until we found the shallows Hastein was searching for, and anchored the two ships close in and parallel to the shore. With their gangplanks extended from amidships, it was only a short wade through ankle deep water to dry land. Hastein and Stig dispatched four men to stand watch from the heights overlooking our anchorage, while the rest of the members of the Gull 's and Serpent 's crews set about the tasks of preparing to camp for the night. Some used the sail and awnings to pitch tent-like covers over the ships' decks, for shelter to sleep under. Others scattered ashore, searching for firewood. I elected to help Hastein's thrall, Cullain, prepare the evening meal, as did Tore, Storolf, and Gudfred from the estate.
Cullain and the cook for the Serpent 's crew, a stocky, balding carl named Regin, set up their tripods on the beach and hung large iron cook-pots, half-filled with fresh water, from them. As our scavengers began piling the wood they found nearby, Tore and Gudfred used small-axes to chop up the larger branches and stacked the cut pieces beside the tripods, while Storolf and Regin laid fires beneath the cauldrons and lit the tender with sparks from their flint and steel.
I helped Cullain butcher the ram that had served as our sacrificial offering that morning, while nearby Regin began chopping carrots, parsnips, and rutabagas on a slab of wood. As he filled up the surface of the board with diced vegetables, he would sweep them into the two pots, then grab another handful and begin chopping again.
Cullain had gutted the ram early in the day, to keep the meat from spoiling. Most of the offal he'd tossed overboard as we were sailing, but he'd reserved the heart and liver. We laid the ram on its back on the beach—its body had stiffened, making it
"Watchers," Torvald said. "King Horik's men." He turned toward the stern, where Hastein was standing, also staring at the men. "Hastein?" he asked.
Hastein nodded. "Aye," he said. "Show the peace-shields. Though I do not think they would light the beacon for just two ships."
Torvald went forward and unfastened two shields, each painted solid white, from where they had been secured in the peak of the bow, below the carved, brightly painted dragon's head that topped the Gull 's front stem post. He lashed one on either side of the dragon's head, covering its fierce visage and showing that we came in peace.
Hastein steered the Gull closer to shore as we passed below the watch-post. Torvald pulled the tall standard pole down from the overhead rack, stripped off its cover, and— stepping back to the stern deck to stand beside Hastein— raised the standard so that Hastein's Gull banner rippled back and forth in the breeze above him. Up on the cliff, one of the guards raised his arm overhead, waving in acknowledgement and greeting, and Hastein did the same in reply.
The finger of land we were passing formed the north side of a broad bay. Hastein steered the Gull south now across its mouth, toward a second peninsula that jutted out from the big island's mainland, framing the bay on its south side.
"Where will we stop for the night?" Tore asked him.
"The north shore here is steep and its beach rocky, but there is a spot along the south shore of the bay, near its mouth, where the bottom is smooth and shallow enough for a good anchorage close to the beach," Hastein replied. After we'd sailed on for a short time, crossing most of the distance across to the far side of the bay, he called out, in a louder voice, "Prepare to lower sail. Oarsmen, draw your oars."
We rowed a short way along the south shore of the bay, near its mouth, until we found the shallows Hastein was searching for, and anchored the two ships close in and parallel to the shore. With their gangplanks extended from amidships, it was only a short wade through ankle deep water to dry land. Hastein and Stig dispatched four men to stand watch from the heights overlooking our anchorage, while the rest of the members of the Gull 's and Serpent 's crews set about the tasks of preparing to camp for the night. Some used the sail and awnings to pitch tent-like covers over the ships' decks, for shelter to sleep under. Others scattered ashore, searching for firewood. I elected to help Hastein's thrall, Cullain, prepare the evening meal, as did Tore, Storolf, and Gudfred from the estate.
Cullain and the cook for the Serpent 's crew, a stocky, balding carl named Regin, set up their tripods on the beach and hung large iron cook-pots, half-filled with fresh water, from them. As our scavengers began piling the wood they found nearby, Tore and Gudfred used small-axes to chop up the larger branches and stacked the cut pieces beside the tripods, while Storolf and Regin laid fires beneath the cauldrons and lit the tender with sparks from their flint and steel.
I helped Cullain butcher the ram that had served as our sacrificial offering that morning, while nearby Regin began chopping carrots, parsnips, and rutabagas on a slab of wood. As he filled up the surface of the board with diced vegetables, he would sweep them into the two pots, then grab another handful and begin chopping again.
Cullain had gutted the ram early in the day, to keep the meat from spoiling. Most of the offal he'd tossed overboard as we were sailing, but he'd reserved the heart and liver. We laid the ram on its back on the beach—its body had stiffened, making it
Similar Books
