The Pale Horseman by Bernard Cornwell Page B

from a wave so that the forepart of her hull, all green and dark with growth, would rear

    skywards with her horse's head snarling at the sun, and then she would crash down and the seas

    would explode white about her timbers. Her oars, like ours, were inboard and the oar-holes

    plugged, and we both ran under sail and Fyrdraca was the faster ship, which was not because

    she was more cunningly built, but because her hull was longer.
    There is such joy in a good ship, and a greater joy to have the ship's belly fat with

    other men's silver. It is the Viking joy, driving a dragon-headed hull through a

    wind-driven sea towards a future full of feasts and laughter. The Danes taught me that and

    I love them for it, pagan swine though they might be. At that moment, running before

    Svein's White Horse, I was as happy as a man could be, free of all the churchmen and laws and

    duties of Alfred's Wessex, but then I gave orders that the sail was to be lowered and a

    dozen men uncleared the lines and the big yard scraped down the mast.
    We had come to Britain's ending and I would turn about, and I waved to Svein as the White

    Horse swept past us. He waved hack, watching the Fyrdraca wallow in the long ocean

    swells.
    'Seen enough?' Leofric asked me.
    I was staring at the end of Britain where the rocks endured the sea's assault.

    'Penwith,' Iseult said, giving me the British name for the headland.
    'You want to go home?' I asked Leofric.
    He shrugged. The crew was turning the yard, lining it fore and aft so it could be stowed

    on its crutches while other men were binding the sail so it did not flap. The oars were

    being readied to take us eastwards and the White Horse was getting smaller as it swept up

    into the Saefern Sea.
    I stared after Svein, envying him. 'I need to be rich,' I said to Leofric.
    He laughed at that.
    'I have a path to follow,' I said, 'and it goes north. North back to Bebbanburg. And

    Bebbanburg has never been captured, so I need many men to take it. Many good men and many

    sharp swords.'
    'We have silver,' he said, gesturing into the boat's bilge.
    'Not enough,' I answered sourly. My enemies had money and Alfred claimed that I owed the

    church money, and the courts of Defnascir would be chasing me for wergild. I could only go

    home if I had enough silver to pay off the church, to bribe the courts and to attract men to

    my banner. I stared at the White Horse, which was now little more than a sail above the

    wind-fretted sea and I felt the old temptation to go with the Danes. Wait till Ragnar was

    free and give him my sword arm, but then I would be fighting against Leofric and I would

    still need to make money, raise men, go north and fight for my birthright. I touched Thor's

    hammer and prayed for a sign. Iseult spat. That was not quite true. She said a word which

    sounded like someone clearing their throat, spitting and choking all at the same time, and

    she was pointing over the ship's side and I saw a strange fish arching out of the water. The

    fish was as big as a deerhound and had a triangular fin.
    'Porpoise,' Leofric said.
    'Llamhydydd,' Iseult said again, giving the fish its British name.
    'They bring sailors luck,' Leofric said.
    I had never seen a porpoise before, but suddenly there were a dozen of the creatures.

    They were grey and their backs glistened in the sun and they were all going north.
    'Put the sail back up,' I told Leofric.
    He stared at me. The crew was unlashing the oars and taking the plugs from the

    oar-holes.
    'You want the sail up?' Leofric asked.
    'We're going north.' I had prayed for a sign and Thor had sent me the porpoise.
    'There's nothing in the Saefern Sea,' Leofric said. 'Svein told you that.'
    'Svein told me there was no plunder in the Saefern Sea,' I said, 'because the Danes have

    taken it all, so that means the Danes have the plunder.' I felt a surge of happiness so

    intense that I punched Leofric's shoulder and gave Iseult a hug. 'And he told me that