The men often grumbled, but as the days passed, the sickness felt by some of the crew lessened, and with the improvement in their health, so their performance also improved. After a week, Runolf did not have to explain what he wanted us to do, and at his shouted commands, we would each jump to the task, knowing our place in the smooth running of the ship.

In the dawn light each morning I knelt with Leofstan beside the river and prayed. We did the same every evening, and I felt a calm serenity I had not experienced for months. I enjoyed the time we spent sailing and rowing, learning the ways of the ship. I asked Runolf to explain each aspect of the craft, and how it handled in as much detail as Leofstan would have expected of me if I had been studying some complex text of theology. Sometimes Runolf would growl and grumble at my incessant questions, but he never seemed to truly tire of talking about Brymsteda or the sea. His eyes sparkled with the sunlight that glittered blindingly off the waves, as he imparted his knowledge to me, and the wind made his shaggy red hair and beard dance about his face like flames.

Now that he could keep his food down for the whole day of sailing, Leofstan no longer spoke of death. This pleased me. And I was also glad that the rest of the men quickly took a liking to him. Leofstan was pleasant and softly spoken, and threw himself into the chores and tasks needed of the crew, never shirking his duty, even in those first days when he had to halt frequently to vomit. Such determination endeared him to the men who had not met the monk before. But there was something else that coloured their opinion of him. On more than one occasion I overheard them speaking of Leofstan in hushed awe, recounting how he had stood with the warriors at Werceworthe, bloody sword in hand, to fight against the Norse. I was sure that Leofstan would rather not be known for a deed that he found abhorrent, but no man can control what others say of him. I suspected Hereward had brought up Leofstan’s bravery in battle, though he never admitted it. And yet, if it was him, perhaps he was right to do so, for it appeared that the addition of the calm monk, whom the men also knew as a formidable warrior, had an uplifting effect on the morale of our company.

The crew grew increasingly adept at handling the ship, and their demeanour improved along with their skill. Where there had been glum faces, groans and retching on that first memorable day aboard, now it was not uncommon to hear laughter, and even song, led by Beorn’s powerful voice, echoing out over Brymsteda’s deck and the sea around the ship.