Chapter 2

I could almost see the expression on the face of the second ship's skipper as he screamed at his men to halt, but it was too late. So eager were they to catch up with the Red Daughter that they found their impetus forcing them onto the terrible rocks, and in seconds they had followed their fellows. I saw men leaping into the water in thick knots, some of them striking out for the rocky shoreline, while others succumbed to the whirling current.

In a few seconds the two ships had been sunk, the crews drowned, and the entrance to the firth semi-permanently blocked.

I felt it necessary to revise my pessimistic opinions of Inghen, and could only hope that soon she would return the favour. For the moment, however, I had to content myself with lounging by the mast.

'Don't just sit there!' Inghen shouted immediately. Her followers, also realising with relief that her sanity was unimpaired, were sitting back and laughing. But the Red Daughter would give them no rest. 'Get moving! We've only dealt with two ships. There's a whole fleet after us!'

She strode up to the stern, and began directing them down the firth. She had my father's map in one hand and was clearly looking for a way to cross the remaining forty miles or so without being seen by Hvirvil's ships. But as we rounded the naze at the end of the firth, I caught a glimpse of a longship rowing cautiously across the bay beyond.

'Is that one of Hvirvil's?' demanded Bjorn from the steering oar. Inghen eyed it worriedly.

'Aye,' she called. 'That's Hvirvil's flagship.'

'What's happened to the rest of his fleet?' Thorir demanded. Inghen shrugged, but the question was soon answered when more ships came creeping out of the sea-mist behind Hvirvil's own. Inghen called a halt, and soon the rowers on the right hand side were turning the ship to sail back into the firth.

'They don't seem to have noticed us,' Inghen said. 'This mist makes our going very chancy, but it's been our friend so far.'

We sailed back into the shadow of the headland, and waited cautiously for about a quarter of an hour. Once Inghen was sure the fleet had passed, we crept out slowly and rowed across the still clear waters of the bay. Soon we were in the thick of the mist, and the constant creak and splash of oars became muffled. We had been in there for a few minutes when Inghen ordered the rowers to stop.

'Should I weigh anchor?' Thorir asked. Inghen shook her head.

'Let the ship drift,' she hissed. 'And listen!'

Distantly, across the misty waters, came a faint splash of oars.

Thorir turned to Inghen.

'Hvirvil?' he whispered. Inghen shook her head, uncertain.

'It could be - but it's heading towards us as far as I can make out, and there's only one of them. It's not the fleet -'

'Ahoy!' came a shout from the mysterious vessel, as it loomed darkly out of the mist ahead of us. Inghen span round and stared searchingly at it, but the mist was too thick to make out any details.

'Ahoy!' came the call again. 'Are you from Hvirvil's fleet?'

Inghen glanced at Thorir. His eyes were wide. Then Bjorn surprised us all by stepping up to the side and shouting;

'That's right! And you?'

'Aye. This is the Raven. We've got lost in the fog. Where's the fleet?'

Inghen breathed a sigh of relief. Only one of them, it seemed. Bjorn continued cheerily.

'This is the Hammer,' he shouted back. The Hammer was one of Hvirvil's ships. 'The rest of the fleet is starboard of you. Hvirvil noticed you'd gone missing and sent us back to find you. If you head starboard for about five minutes, you should catch up.'

Shouting their thanks, the crew of the Raven sailed off into the mist.

'Bjorn!' said Thorir. 'I'm impressed. I didn't think we were going to get out of that without a fight.'

The big man shrugged.

'I'd prefer a fight,' he admitted, 'but what matters is that we get to this island and get the gold. Then we can have all the battles we want.'

Inghen smiled, and nodded.

'We'll have to call you Bjorn the Occasionally Cunning now,' she said, slapping him on the back. He grinned, and handed her a golden arm-ring in return for the nickname, in accordance with Norse custom.

The atmosphere was less tense in the ship now, as we rowed onwards through the thinning mist. I decided it was time for me to plead my case.

'Inghen!' I called hoarsely. 'Surely you realise by now that I had nothing to do with this?'

She came over, and stared coldly at me.

'I haven't seen proof of anything yet,' she replied.

'Well, can't you at least untie me?' I said. 'I'm not going to do anything. And I've got terrible cramp in my shoulders,' I added, trying to look winsome.

It didn't work. I should have known, really. She shook her head steadily, and turned her back on me.

'Not until I have proof you're trustworthy,' she called as a parting shot, and went to the stern to read my father's map again.

My father's map! If it hadn't been for me, she wouldn't have any idea where to find Conaing's treasure, I raged to myself. It was unjust. It was unfair. It was... But I checked myself. I was starting to know my part too well.