Meaning he wanted silver, and, because he had told me what I needed to know, I gave him coins. He sniffed them, looked happy, then turned to the sea. “The tide is rising, lord. May I rest my head here tonight?”

“Did you bring your own pillow?” I asked.

He offered me a sly smile. “She is below, lord,” he said, pointing down into the lower fortress.

Ieremias would be unable to get home that evening because at high tide the causeway to Lindisfarena was under water and the mad bishop was often sane enough to visit Bebbanburg just as a flooding tide would prevent him from riding home and just in time to share the garrison’s supper, which, I suspected, was a lot better than anything his followers cooked. “And maybe we could have a morsel to eat?” he added.

“You will be welcome,” I told him, and so he was, because I reckoned he had told me where I could find Sköll.

Not that I could do anything about it, at least not immediately, because the next day Sköll came to us.

He came without anyone telling us of his presence, and that was disturbing. If a Scottish war-band came hunting for slaves or cattle we would hear about it from the folk who fled. Some would go to their hiding places in the woods or hills, but others would run or ride to warn neighbors and so the news would spread until it reached Bebbanburg, but Sköll simply arrived without any warning. He must have led his men straight across the hills, not stopping to plunder or burn, just spurring on his horses so that he appeared on the hill above the village before anyone could reach us with news of his coming. He came not long after dawn on a mellow spring day, and the rising sun glinted from the mail, helmets, and spear-blades of his gray-cloaked horsemen. “They must have ridden half the night,” Finan said.

“All night even,” I said. It had been a cloudless night and the moon was full.

A horn was sounding from the great hall, summoning Bebbanburg’s garrison to the ramparts. Villagers were running from their houses, driving pigs, goats, cattle, dogs, sheep, and children along the narrow neck of land that led to Bebbanburg’s Skull Gate. Sköll could surely see them, but he sent none of his warriors down the hill to stop their flight. I shouted at my son to ready men who could ride out to protect the fugitives if Sköll attacked, but the Norseman stayed on the higher ground and just watched us.

“Two hundred and fifty men,” Finan said dourly.

“So far,” I answered, because more men were joining Sköll even as we watched. I had fewer than sixty men in the fortress. Most of my household warriors were at their steadings, and though they would learn soon enough of Sköll’s arrival and would know to assemble south of the fortress, I could not expect to see them until midday at the earliest and even then I would have fewer men than Sköll.