“Lord!” Finan called.

I turned to see a small group of Norsemen coming fast behind us. They were galloping recklessly, each holding a spear. There were only eight of them, and what could eight men do against ninety?

They could frustrate us, and they did. They hung back for much of the time, then would gallop forward threateningly, and each time they approached we were forced to turn men around, and as soon as we did, they swerved away to avoid a fight. And each time we stopped and turned we were slowed down. Again and again they charged then turned away, and again and again we were forced to face them, and I knew the larger war-bands were not far behind and were getting closer. We needed to go faster, and so I put twenty men under Finan’s command and had them ride to the right of the road, and another twenty under Berg’s leadership who rode to the left. They took it in turns to face the annoying pursuers while the rest of us kept moving, and that checked the frustrating threats.

I rode beside Enar Erikson, who had recovered his wits. I had taken a moment to sit him properly in his saddle, though with his hands tied at his back and his ankles lashed to the stirrup leathers. “So what happened at Eoferwic?” I asked him.

“Eoferwic?” He was puzzled because I had used the Saxon name instead of the name the Norse used.

“At Jorvik.”

Rain dripped from his helmet and his mustache. “Will I live if I tell you?” he asked.

“You’ll die if you don’t.”

“We lost,” he said curtly. He ducked beneath a branch and almost lost his balance. We had left the moorland, and the road led through a spinney of stunted willow. As we climbed the gentle pastureland beyond the trees I looked behind and saw our enemy’s large war-band was a mile away, but it was getting dark and they were being cautious despite outnumbering us. The two pursuing groups had joined, and together they had almost double my numbers, but they still seemed reluctant to fight. I could not see Sköll’s white cloak among the distant pursuers, so I guessed he had sent another man to lead the warriors and he had doubtless told that man to be careful. If Enar was right then Sköll must have lost men at Eoferwic, and he doubtless did not want to lose more, and though he could overwhelm us in a fight he would pay dearly for our defeat. He had declared war on Sigtryggr, he had lost the opening fight, and I reckoned he needed every warrior to face my son-in-law’s revenge. Or so I hoped.

The sun was low now and hidden by darkly heaped clouds. The wind gusted rain that had begun to fall steadily. We passed a steading that had smoke coming from the hall roof and was surrounded by a stout palisade. I knew my tired men must hope that I would attack the small farmstead and so give them a refuge with a hearth, but to stop now would be to invite our pursuers to besiege the place, and so we kept going into the wet dusk.