Wyvern.
She must have seen us, for she stayed on our tail for more than an hour that afternoon, gradually overhauling us, until a sudden squall blew in, lashing us with rain and hail and churning the waves into a foaming tumult that harried Nihtegesa’s hull and splintered into trails of froth that cascaded up and over the gunwale and soaked us to our skin. The timbers creaked and shudders ran along the whole length of the ship. We shipped the oars so that they did not shear, and had to bail water out of the bilges just to stay afloat, but one good thing came of it, for amidst the low clouds and the heaving waves we managed to lose Wyvern. When finally the rain ceased and the clouds passed over and we saw the evening sun disappearing over the thickly wooded lands that lay to larboard, there was no sign of her.
‘Your friends are certainly determined,’ Magnus said that night when we lay at anchor. He’d brought us into a narrow cove, which was difficult for anyone who wasn’t familiar with the land and its rivers to spot from out at sea, but which offered good shelter from the wind. ‘It’s lucky for you I know these coasts, or else there’s a good chance they’d have caught us already.’
I couldn’t argue with him on that, although admittedly there’d been a moment earlier that day, before the squall, when I had doubted him. In an effort to maintain some distance between us and our pursuers, he had ordered Uhtferth to steer us hard by a headland, too close for my liking to the looming crags and sharp rock stacks that jutted proud of the waves. The wind had gusted in Nihtegesa’s sail and more than once I’d murmured a prayer to God, thinking it was about take her and dash us against those cliffs in a tangle of broken timbers, but fortunately Uhtferth and his crew had a good feeling for the currents and the swell, and we’d raced swiftly past without coming to harm.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said.
‘About what?’
‘About how much easier it would be next time not to try to evade these friends of yours, but to hand you over to them instead. How much do you think they’ll offer in return?’
‘They won’t give you anything,’ I said. ‘You’ll be fortunate if you manage to escape with your life, once they learn who you are. And you can be sure that I’ll tell them, if you dare betray me.’
He contemplated that for a moment, unspeaking, as Nihtegesa bobbed on the tide.
‘That’s why you wanted to flee Dyflin that night, isn’t it?’ I asked. ‘Not for my sake, but because, even now, you fear what they would do to you if they ever caught up with you.’
Again he didn’t answer me, and I took that as a sign I was right. Water slapped against the hull and the anchor chain grazed the timbers. Some of the crew were still awake, but most had fallen asleep, huddled beneath blankets next to their sea chests, while Godric, Eithne, Serlo and Pons had bedded down on the bow platform. Even after spending two days at sea in close quarters, my band and Magnus’s tended to keep themselves apart as much as possible, with at least one man from each party staying awake at all times to keep lookout during the night. Tonight, partly to ease the lingering hostility between English and Normans, among whom Magnus’s men counted Godric for having thrown in his lot with me, we had each nominated ourselves to take the first watch.
‘I should have left you there,’ Magnus said ruefully after a while.
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘Because …’ he began, and then hesitated. ‘Because I have few enough allies left these days. I knew that if I was to do this, I’d need all the men I could muster, and another four swords could prove useful. You seemed every bit as desperate as myself, and for that reason I felt I could trust you.’