Before the sun set, Jarl Magnus’s priest performed the ritual for the fleet’s safety. By the water, where the knarr lay at anchor and the great longship was drawn up on the shore, a white ox was slaughtered. The blood filled many bowls. The priest was an old man, and moved stiffly in his long woolen robe, but his hands were supple enough, dipping the blood twigs, sprinkling the libation from bow to stern, from keel to rim-rail of each proud vessel. Herbs were burned, and a wreath of oak leaves placed around the neck of the great creature that adorned the Golden Dragon’s prow. Eyvind felt a thrill of excitement as the priest gazed up into the darkening sky. The old man’s eyes were filmy with age, and yet he seemed to see a great distance.

“Mighty Thor! Storm god, battle god, sky god, we greet you! Let fair weather and calm seas welcome these voyagers, may a sweet wind breathe them safely across the ocean. Thor, strongest of fishermen, let no sea monster threaten our vessels, our folk, or our possessions. We ask your blessing, slayer of serpents!”

There was no answering roar of thunder; no spike of lightning split the sky. There was only the gentle wash of water on the pebbles, and the plaintive bellowing of the cattle, which were tethered not far away, awaiting loading into the knarr. Still, the priest appeared satisfied. He reached out a gnarled hand and ran his fingers along the strakes of the new ship’s side, pausing as he touched the point where the keel swept upward toward the prow. Here, runes were carved, a band of them swirling snakewise up the fine oak, and between them were tiny images of men and gods and creatures.

“She goes with Thor’s blessing, and Odin’s, and Freyr’s,” the old man said, “for she goes to a fair land, over sea, and the men who travel in her must perforce be sailors, and warriors, and farmers too. May Thor carry you safe through the perils of the deep. Odin smite your enemies and give your leaders wisdom. Freyr smile on your crops and cattle, and grant you times of plenty. Fair Freya, his sister, grant your women peaceful hearths and healthy children. Go forth with courage into your new world.”

With that, the fleet was ready. Cattle and sheep, chickens and ducks, men, women, and children would board in the morning, and by the time the sun was high in the sky, the vessels would be slipping out between the small islands that formed the skerry-guard, and into open sea.