Knut inclined his head and spoke again, but soon faltered to a halt. “I thank you for your skill and kindness,” Kalev translated. “Too many have died. My son . . . ”

“We’re sorry for your loss, Knut.” Gull spoke plainly, like the warrior he had long been. “It’s a hard thing to bear. The hardest.”

“The Orcades.” Johnny looked thoughtful. “So that was your destination?”

Knut nodded. “The ship was to be delivered there,” Kalev translated for him. “We heard, some other fellows and I, that the Orcadian Jarl would welcome new settlers, fighting men in particular. We had hopes of making a fresh start in that place. Several of my comrades had wives and children on board.” There was a long silence, then Knut added something. Kalev said, “I will not go now.”

There was a silence. Knut’s grief and regret seeped into me, bringing me close to tears. At the same time I felt something from the man on the pallet, who appeared to be asleep but was not. He was on edge, tense as a creature in the hunter’s gaze.

“You know nothing at all of this man’s purpose, or that of his two fellow travelers?” Johnny asked Knut. “Where did they embark?”

“Ulfricsfjord.”

I had never heard of such a place, but Johnny said, “That’s the Norse name for Goosefeather Bay, north of Dublin. Knut, the trade route from the east coast of Erin to the Orcades would surely take you close to the shore of Dalriada. Inis Eala is far to the west of your natural course.”

“That is so, yes. But a strange wind caught Freyja, driving us westward. There was no fighting it, though we rowed until our backs were breaking.”

“Freyja,” echoed Evan. “So your ship was named for the Norse goddess of spring.”

“A fine vessel. A grievous loss.” Knut was keeping his shoulders square and his chin up, but his tone was uneven as he spoke. Kalev translated quietly. “I hope you can save this man’s life. I will come to see him every day. When he returns to himself, when he wishes to tell his tale, a familiar face may help him.”

In view of the fact that Knut did not even know the other man’s name, that sounded a little odd to me, but I made no comment. They had been through a nightmare together, the survivors and the fallen. If Knut was not making perfect sense, there was good reason for it.

“We’ll speak more of this later,” Johnny said. “Now you should go back to your wife. Thank you for helping us here.” He glanced at the man on the pallet, and I thought he saw what I did: a person who was doing an excellent job of feigning sleep. “Just one thing,” he added. “Do you know if this man understands Irish? Is he a Norseman?”