Shortly after, Runolf called out a series of orders, which we executed with precision, despite our exhaustion. Soon we had shipped oars. A few heartbeats later, as Brymsteda continued to slide silently through the night-dark waters, I rocked backwards as the keel grated softly against a gravelly beach.

Catching my breath, I slumped over my oar. My breath came ragged, drawing the cool air of the darkness into my welcoming lungs. There was no sound apart from the movements of the men, and a distant sighing of waves lapping at the strand and against the strakes.

Around me, men were stirring from the thwarts and chests, rising and stretching. I glanced over at the dark shape of Gwawrddur. He was still, his face covered by the blankets. I felt a stab of panic as I recalled Leofstan’s words. But I had prayed all through that long afternoon and should not have doubted the power of the Lord. As I watched, Leofstan bent to the Welshman, shaking him awake.

With relief washing through me, I stood and looked over the ship’s side at our island destination.

Twenty-Four

There was nothing much to see from the ship. The sky was awash with a spray of stars, and the memory of the day still glowed on the horizon, as if the sun might alter its unrelenting progress and return before the dawn. Brymsteda was in shallow water on a nondescript beach of sand and shingle. The land was low and uniform for as far as I could see in the sun’s pale afterglow. Not a single tree rose above the grass and bushes. The only shapes that drew my gaze were a large, low building positioned well away from the beach, and a couple of vessels, both smaller than Brymsteda, but of similar construction, that rested on the sand.

All around me the men were standing, coughing, grunting, whispering, as if to speak aloud in such stillness was a crime. Several of the crew clambered over the side, the splashes loud in the night.

“Secure the ship,” called Runolf, striding forward as if he felt none of the weariness that afflicted the rest of us.

Without pause, Alf, Mantat and Garwig went about staking a line on the beach, that would hold the ship in place even if the rising tide should float the hull.

I rubbed my eyes, stretched and was about to climb over the side, when a bright light flared in the darkness. Blinking, I peered into the gloom. A wide door had swung open in the large building. Shadows flickered before the glare of the opened door, as men hurried into the dark. Some of those men bore sputtering torches. From their light, I could see other, smaller buildings scattered around what appeared to be a central hall from which men were still spilling into the night. Torchlight gleamed from spear-points and shield bosses.