“It sails well, Hunlaf,” he said to me as I drew close. “Even with this useless crew!” He laughed. It was only the afternoon of the first day of sailing, and to my mind things had not gone well. Runolf, though, seemed undeterred. “When you all know what you are about, Brymsteda will be as fast as any ship ever built.”

In the midships, Ida doubled over and vomited, though there was little in his stomach for him to bring up now. He had been sick ever since we had rowed out of the mouth of the Uuir and hit the first waves. His face was a sickly greenish hue. I didn’t much like Ida, but I worried at this sickness that had affected so many of the men aboard.

“We will not be able to sail, if all the men are sick,” I said. “Do you think the pig was badly cooked?”

Runolf glanced at me, then seeing I was serious, he howled with laughter. For a time he could not speak, such was his mirth.

“Did you not eat last night?”

I nodded, annoyed that he made light of the men’s malady.

“As did I,” Runolf went on. “I ate and drank, and we are both well.” He chuckled again at my expression, wiping tears of mirth from his cheeks. “Do not fret about the men. They are not truly ill.”

“Tell that to Leofstan, Ida and the others.”

“This is just the way of the sea. Some men take longer than others to grow used to the rolling of a deck. They will be better soon enough.” He was not looking at me as he spoke. Instead, his gaze roved over the ship, the crew, the rigging, the sea around us, the sky. He missed nothing.

Runolf had assigned each of the fishermen a portion of the crew, a section of the ship, and certain tasks and roles for which they were responsible. In this way, the ship was broken into six sections. At the prow was the Foreship, under the command of Garwig. The front of the sail and keeping watch were their main duties. Next was Mantat’s Tack crew, who were busy when sailing into the wind. The Midship crew, just before the mast, was in charge of the sail and much of its rigging. Behind the mast was the Drag crew. Under the stern eye of young Dunn they ensured the sail did not become fouled when sailing close to the wind. They also watched for water in the bilge. Following the Drag was the Aft crew, in which I had been placed. Scurfa was our leader, and our principal jobs, when not rowing, were to handle the braces and sheets, the ropes that controlled the angle of the huge sail. Finally, the stern-most crew was the Lifting, from where Runolf steered and skippered Brymsteda.

“You there, Alf,” Runolf shouted now. “By Þórr’s hammer, what is your man doing?”