‘No, lord. We did what we were told to do. Look for the enemy in the village. We were told they left two days ago.’

That, if true, was a relief. I did not mind if Merewalh’s two hundred men were discovered by Æthelhelm’s forces, indeed we wanted them to be discovered. We wanted the troops garrisoning Lundene to be watching northwards, watching Merewalh, while my smaller force went southwards. But to go southwards we needed ships and we needed to stay unseen.

We splashed across the ford to the Ligan’s East Anglian bank, then turned south again, riding to the big timber yard where, on our voyage upriver in Brimwisa, I had seen four barges being loaded with split timbers.

Three of the barges were still there. They were flat-bottomed, made for river work, with a wide beam, a blunt prow, and a steering-oar with a blade the size of a small barn door. All three possessed masts, but the masts were stepped, lying lengthwise in the wide flat bellies of the craft along with their shrouds, a sail yard each, and three neatly furled sails. There were no benches for oarsmen, instead the rowers stood and used the dozen tholes on each side for their long, heavy oars. They were horrible, clumsy looking boats, but they would get us to Lundene. I dismounted, flinching because of the pain in my ribs, and walked towards the barges.

‘You can’t take them!’ An irate elderly man stormed out of a house built next to a vast open shed where timbers were seasoning. He spoke Danish. ‘You can’t take them!’ he repeated.

‘Are you going to stop us?’ It was Wihtgar who snarled that response, and in Danish too, which surprised me.

The man took one look into Wihtgar’s scarred face and all defiance fled. ‘How do I get them back?’ he pleaded.

I ignored the question. ‘Lord Æthelhelm needs them,’ I said, ‘and doubtless he’ll return them.’

‘Lord Æthelhelm?’ The elderly man was confused now.

‘I’m his cousin, Æthelwulf,’ I said, using the name of Æthelhelm’s younger brother who I hoped was still a prisoner in Bebbanburg, then had an impulse to touch my hammer to ward off the thoughts of plague in the north. I had no hammer, but I did have my pouch of money that Finan had returned, and so I gave the man hacksilver. ‘We’re joining my cousin in Lundene,’ I told him, ‘so look for your ships there.’ I saw a thin silver chain under his jerkin, reached out to free it, and found he was wearing a silver hammer. He edged back, alarmed. Our shields were burned with crosses and he plainly feared Christian vengeance. ‘How much?’ I asked.

‘Much, lord?’

‘For the hammer?’

‘Two shillings, lord.’

I gave him three, then hung the hammer around my neck and touched it with a forefinger. It was a consolation.

One of the barges was half loaded with stacks of split timber and we unloaded it, then waited for the tide to turn. I sat on a thick oak trunk, gazing across the river, which swirled slow and sluggish. Two swans drifted upstream on the flood tide. I was thinking of Eadith and of Benedetta when a voice interrupted my thoughts. ‘You said we were Lord Æthelhelm’s men, lord?’ Wihtgar was standing over me.