Raven Read Free

respect your betters.’ His beard bristled in the gathering wind. ‘Just remember the silver you owe us, Raven,’ he called out, stirring a few ‘aye’s and disgruntled murmurs, his eyes glinting. ‘No man likes to be silver-light.’ Even Svein nodded agreement with that.
    And I sighed again.
    But before long we were poking fun at Yrsa Pig-nose for the great red boil that had bloomed on the side of his snout, and after Yrsa it was the Wessexman Baldred’s turn to endure a good tongue-lashing because he had the shits and had grabbed the nearest bucket, which had happened to be one of our freshwater pails.
    We were chaffing because we were nervous. Even I had been at sea long enough to smell a storm in the air and this one was coming our way, its fingers already grasping at us. I had seen it first as swaths of dark rippling water contrasting against a lighter blue, where current and wind fought over which direction the waves should move. Then the wind had whipped flecks of spume from those waves and Serpent ’s bowline had begun to swing and the reefing ropes began beating the sail. Now we were talking too much, trying to make out that it wasnothing more than a sniff of a breeze that would splutter itself out before long, when the truth was we were afraid. I think the only man aboard who was not afraid was Halldor, because he was already a dead man, but then again not even Halldor wanted a drowning death.
    Ulfbert cursed when a gust swiped the bear-fur hat off his head, carrying it half a stone’s throw away before ditching it amongst the wave furrows.
    ‘What do you think, Uncle?’ Sigurd called from the stern where he stood beside Knut at the tiller. Olaf had ordered Osk and Hedin to check that our cargo was roped down securely and now he and Bothvar were lowering the yard in preparation to reef the sail.
    ‘I think that coast looks dangerous,’ Olaf replied, working the rope with practised ease. ‘I think these waters have swallowed men and boats since before the All-Father could boast a beard. I also think my grandfather was right when he said it is always cleverer to reef too early than reef too late.’
    Sigurd nodded, eyeing the bruise-coloured cloud that was swelling in the north-east and bearing down on us with unnatural haste. I fancied it was the Emperor Karolus’s black rage coming to smite us. ‘Even so, Uncle, if we stay out here Rán is going to have her fun with us.’
    ‘Aye, she’s in a black mood,’ Olaf acknowledged, looking up at the rake as he lowered it a man’s height from the masthead.
    Sigurd spoke to Knut beside him, who, with his free hand, pulled his long beard through his fist and replied, frowning. Then Sigurd nodded, his mind made up. ‘We will make our way in and look for a mooring,’ he called, to which Olaf nodded unenthusiastically. Then Sigurd nodded to Osten who took the horn from his belt and blew three long deep notes: the signal to the other ships that we were heading to shore. I saw the men of Fjord-Elk , Wave-Steed and Sea-Arrow make their own preparations, some going to the bows with fathom ropes and others peering over the sides into the depths, looking out forrocks or sandbanks. One of the Danes was even shimmying up Sea-Arrow ’s mast to get a better look at what was below the waves, which was a brave thing to do in that swell.
    Knut worked the tiller, calling to Olaf who barked at those working the sail, and I was glad my life was in their hands because there were few men with such sea-craft. The steersman turned Jörmungand, our prow beast, into an upsurging wave and we rode it well, but I knew that swell was just a taste of what was coming and I instinctively touched the Óðin amulet at my neck. Old Asgot was ferreting around beneath the skins that covered Serpent ’s hold and after a while he emerged with a magnificent drinking horn, shaved and polished to gleaming perfection and bound with silver bands. It was a jarl’s horn and perhaps that was why