‘He’s got tripe for brains,’ Finan said.

‘But sooner or later he’ll see his chance.’

That chance was caused by how closely the southern reach lay to the northern. Just a narrow strip of marsh separated the two, which meant that Waormund could send men across the intervening marsh to assail us with spears. Irenmund was already taking us into the bend, keeping to the outside where the water would be deepest, but the current was also fastest there and our progress was painfully slow. Most of our rowers were at the end of their endurance, their faces grimacing as they hauled on the heavy oars. ‘Not much longer now!’ I shouted as I made my way forward to where the children, the women, and Father Oda were sitting on the deck beneath the small prow platform. Benedetta looked up at me anxiously and I tried to reassure her with a smile.

‘I want the smallest children under the platform,’ I told Benedetta, pointing to the small space at the prow, ‘and the rest on this side of the deck.’ I was on the bæcbord side because once we rounded the sharp bend, that side would be facing the enemy ship as it rowed northwards. ‘Immar!’ I shouted. ‘Come here!’

He scrambled back to me and I handed him one of the big shields we had discovered in Gunnald’s yard. ‘The bastards might be throwing spears,’ I explained, ‘and your job is to stop them. Catch them on the shield.’

Finan, Immar, Oswi and I had shields. Finan would protect the steering platform, Immar would try to defend the women and children huddled beneath the ship’s rail, while Oswi and I must somehow keep spears from striking the rowers. ‘It would be a long throw,’ Oswi said dubiously. He was gazing at the enemy ship that was nearing the first bend just as we struggled out of it.

‘They won’t throw from the ship,’ I said, ‘and maybe they won’t throw at all.’ I touched the hammer, hoping I was right.

The helmsman on the enemy ship stayed too close to the inner bank of the curve and I saw the big ship lurch as she ran aground again. For a few heartbeats it just stayed there, then a dozen men leaped overboard. I thought they were about to attempt to push the big ship off the mud, but instead they carried spears and began running towards us.

‘Pull!’ I shouted. ‘Irenmund! Keep to the right!’ The steerboard oars began fouling the river bed again, but they also found purchase and the Brimwisa kept moving. The rowers on the bæcbord benches looked anxiously at the enemy who were stumbling through the marsh’s reeds and tussocks. ‘Just keep rowing!’ I called.

‘Why?’ A bare-chested man with a spade beard challenged me. He stopped hauling his oar, stood, and looked at me truculently. ‘They’re your enemy, they’re not ours!’

He was right, of course, but there was no time to argue with him, especially as some of the oarsmen muttered sullen agreement. I just drew Serpent-Breath, stepped over the next bench and thrust hard. He had time to look astonished, then his calloused hands closed on the long blade that had glanced off a rib and driven deep into his chest. He made a gasping noise, blood bubbled at his open mouth and spilled down his beard as his eyes stared at me beseechingly. I snarled, wrenched the blade sideways and so toppled him over the side. Blood spread on the water.