‘Come on, you bastards, harder!’
There was a sharp whistle of air to my left, and I looked up in time to see a flash of silver as an arrow hurtled our way, arcing down until it disappeared into the water not twenty paces off our larboard side. A second followed, landing amidst the waves left by our passage, then three all at once: black lines against the moonlit clouds, soaring over the river before bearing down upon us. Two fell short, but the third flew higher and I tensed, thinking for a moment that it was going to hit us, but a gust caught it and it flew over the heads of the oarsmen before dropping beyond the steerboard side, less than an oar’s length from the hull.
The distance was closing fast now; in the half-light I could even make out the faces of those aboard the other two ships. One had taken the lead, and its prow rose tall as it speared through the water towards us. Upon its deck a score and more of warriors, all dressed in mail and helmets, raised their blades to the sky in anticipation of the slaughter that was sure to come. A second volley of arrows shot towards us, and I had to duck as one shot just over my head, while another stuck fast in the gunwale not far from where I was standing. We had almost made it to the headland, almost made it past them. But still they did not give up, and as they came closer, I saw that they were no longer trying to block our escape. They were trying to ram us.
‘Faster,’ I yelled above the noise. The painted dragon-head of the leading ship bore down upon our flank and I braced myself for the impact. ‘Faster!’
A shudder ran through the ship as the deck tilted and the steerboard side jolted up. I stumbled sideways; the drum slipped from my fingers and thudded hollowly on to the deck. I was regaining my balance when the hull crashed down again, kicking up a white spray, and I fell back the other way. For a moment I thought the ship had been struck, and panic surged through me, but then I realised that we were still moving, and that the enemy were behind us.
I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as I saw the two English ships in our wake, desperately trying to turn about, to pursue us. They must have just missed us, for I could see no damage to the ship, but when I looked to steerboard I saw the mudbanks perilously close to the hull. That was what we must have struck, and in doing so we had come within a fraction of grounding.
‘Take us out,’ I shouted to Aubert.
The shipmaster shook his head and his lips moved, but above the rush of oars and the thumping of my heart, I couldn’t make out what it was he said.
‘Out, into the midstream!’ I said, but then I saw what he had in mind. Less than a mile ahead, the river curved in a great arc around to the right, and at the tip of that curve was an island, a great mound of trees and rocks, much larger than any of the islets we had seen so far, with two passages around it. The first and safest of these was to follow the main stream of the river, a long, wide route around the head of the bend. The other, shorter course, took the form of a narrow channel on the inside shore, between the island and the mudbanks – and it was towards this second passage that Aubert was steering us.
If they wanted to stay close on our tail, the enemy would have to follow us through that channel, for to go around would allow us to put open water between ourselves and them. In doing so, however, they too would run the same risk of beaching there on the flats. It was a plan that relied greatly on Aubert’s judgement and ability, but I did not see that we had many other choices. Already the two enemy ships had brought their prows around, carving through the dark waters, and were in pursuit. We still had a lead of several lengths on them, but they were much the faster, and I knew that lead could soon disappear. Already it seemed they were closing in again. We were far from being safe yet.
‘Row,’ I shouted, recovering the drum and starting to beat once more. I stepped along the middle gangplank between the men. ‘Row!’
Thrown from their rhythm by the impact, some of the oarsmen were struggling to keep their strokes in time, but I could not afford to slow the pace again. Oars creaked in their rowlocks; blades crashed awkwardly into the water, not cutting its surface cleanly as they had before, casting up spray, turning the water white with foam with every heave.