“As far as I know.”

“And you would have revenge on the wench?”

Runolf hesitated, and again I wondered what thoughts swarmed in his mind.

“I would look her in the eye. Perhaps then I would understand.”

Uhtric sighed. Grimacing, he closed his eyes, as if a sudden pain gripped him. After a time, he reached for the cup at his side. Hereward stepped forward quickly, filling the vessel from the jug and handing it to his lord. Uhtric took a deep draught of the liquid and shuddered.

“If this wound doesn’t kill me soon, this God-accursed potion will,” he said, setting aside the cup with trembling hand. I was glad I had not asked for a drink. “I can understand the desire for revenge,” he continued, “but I do not see why this interests me.”

“There is more,” I said.

“Go on, young Hunlaf.”

“Along with many others from Lindisfarnae, my cousin, Aelfwyn, was taken as a thrall by the raiders. Before Runolf’s brother died, he told us where Aelfwyn was. I would bring her back to safety.”

Uhtric nodded slowly, carefully, as if his skull weighed more than normal.

“This is a laudable plan,” he said, “though I am sure not as simple as you make it sound. However, you do not need my blessing to undertake such a daring quest. You are not oath-sworn to me. Rather you were a member of the clergy, so you should seek out the permission of Bishop Hygebald.”

“I am a monk no longer,” I replied. “I have left the brethren.”

Uhtric raised an eyebrow.

“Even so, how you choose to lead your life is not my concern.”

“There is also a book.”

“A book?” Uhtric asked, confused at the sudden shift in the conversation.

I thought of the heretical text of The Treasure of Life, and its gem-studded, ornately decorated cover. Uhtric would have little or no interest in the contents of the vellum pages.

“The Norsemen stole many artefacts from the holy isle,” I went on. “Gold, silver and some books that are worth a king’s hoard. Beyond price, really.”

At the mention of treasure, Uhtric’s focus sharpened and he sat up straighter.

“And?”

“We wish to recover what treasure we can from those who stole it.”

Uhtric shook his head and sighed.

“You will never find that treasure. It will have been melted down, or sold to merchants from other lands, or buried.” He delicately shook his head again. “This is folly.”

Runolf looked down at the rushes on the floor. He was not a man to easily admit defeat, but I could see in the slump of his shoulders that he feared we were no closer to being able to build his ship than we had been when we left Werceworthe. I could feel the weight of Hereward, Gwawrddur and Drosten’s gaze on me, but I did not look away from Uhtric.