Turning, I saw the voice belonged to Leofstan and I sighed with relief.

“Wondering what the future holds?” he asked.

I looked back out over the sea. The dunlin were still there, but the puffins had vanished.

“I can scarcely believe what Runolf has achieved,” I said. “The ship is truly beautiful.”

“Runolf is an extraordinary man,” Leofstan said, stepping closer and reaching for a taut shroud, as if he expected the deck to move as violently as it had during the day. “But he is not the only one. He would never have done this without your help. Indeed, without you, he would have been dead these several months past.”

It was true, I supposed, but I did not feel worthy to be compared with the Norseman.

“It does not bear thinking about what would have become of us all, if we had not stopped Uhtric from hanging Runolf.”

Leofstan moved gingerly to stand beside me to watch the sea grow dark with the setting of the sun.

“It is madness to think of what might have been. There is only what was, what is now, and what will be. And we can only affect the last of those.”

“What do you see in our future?” I asked.

“The only thing I am sure of is there will be more sickness for me. By all the saints, if I had known I would suffer on the sea so, I would not have come.”

“Runolf says that the sickness will pass, in time.”

“I pray that he is right. Many more days like today and I might be tempted to jump into the sea and take my chances swimming.”

“You know how to swim?” I asked, surprised, as few men had that skill.

“I do not!”

Leofstan laughed and I joined in. It felt good. There had been a tension between us ever since the battle at Werceworthe.

We stood in silence for a time. I fancied I could just discern the dark shapes of seal heads bobbing out there in the deep water, but the swell rose and I lost them in the twilight.

“I have thought long and prayed much about what took place when…” Leofstan did not finish his thought, but I knew he was remembering that blood-soaked morning at Werceworthe where he had wielded a sword and slain Norsemen in the shieldwall alongside the other warriors.

I said nothing.

“I owe you an apology,” he said at last.

“You owe me nothing, Leofstan,” I said, shocked at his words. “If anything, I should say sorry to you.”

“No, Hunlaf, we each choose our paths. Our actions are our own and ours alone. I took up a blade and fought for Werceworthe. And I killed when I had vowed never again to take a life.” His voice was laden with sorrow and regret.