Soon every available hand on every ship was wielding an oar. Alas, now was the extent of the Sea King's losses cruelly apparent: of those who had sailed from Bjorvika with Harald, barely one in four survived; more than one hundred and seventy had begun the journey, and only forty-four remained alive. Thus, despite the aid of the Greek fishermen, the rowing benches were not crowded, and even with the help of the Arab rafiq-who were no seamen-the ships fared but little faster.
I soon realized, however, that Harald's aim was not to outrun the raiders, but simply to turn the longships into the wind and hope the raiders could not close on us. If we succeeded in holding them off long enough, there was always a chance we might achieve enough distance to allow us to catch a favourable wind and sail out of danger.
At first, the strategy appeared to work-and wonderfully well. As the longships swung onto their new course, the red ships turned to follow and we saw the sails fall slack. Moments later, the red ships slowed; having no oars, the raiders foundered in the water.
The Sea Wolves saw it and cheered. But then the raiders hauled the sails tight, and began pegging back and forth at long angles to the wind-a tactic which brought groans from the Danes.
"They know something of sailing, these raiders," Gunnar said. "They cannot catch us, but neither will we lose them. We must keep rowing and hope the wind falls."
Row we did, watching the red ships coursing relentlessly back and forth over our wake as the sun slowly arced across the empty blue vault of heaven. As the day grew long and muscles tired, dark oaths took the place of the easy laughter. The Greeks complained that they had been hired on as seamen, not slaves; and upon learning their complaint, Harald told them they could either row or swim, the choice was theirs-although rowers could hope for additional reward upon reaching our destination.
Others may have grumbled, but I relished my long toil on the hard bench, considering that each stroke of the oars drove us closer to Byzantium and Nikos's day of reckoning.
Sitting on my rough bench, I imagined how it would be:
We would sail into Theodosius Harbour, swarm through the gate, and make our way to the imperial palace, where, in a blaze of righteous fury, we would confront the astonished Nikos with his treasons and treacheries. Upon hearing the confession from the wretch's lips, the grateful emperor would deliver him into our hands for execution-which would be duly effected, but only after a particularly excruciating period of torture specially prepared by the Sea Wolves. The emperor, whose life we had so narrowly saved, would reward us fabulously, of course, and we would leave that accursed place forever.
The dream, pleasant as it was, came to an end when, early the next morning, the wind changed quarter, gusting smartly from the southeast. The red ships were keen to the change. Even as the Danes raced to raise sails, the raiders were swinging effortlessly back onto course.
"Up sail!" cried Harald, as Thorkel hauled at the steering oar, sending the ships onto a new course. Sea Wolves shipped oars and scrambled to the ropes to raise the sail. There came a groan and a crack as the mast took the weight and the great square sail snapped full. I felt the ship hesitate as the prow bit into the waves, only to spring ahead as the dragonhead came bounding up once more. In the space of three heartbeats the longships were flying before the wind like low-swooping gulls.
Oh, but the red ships were faster still. With each swell and surge of the waves, they came the closer, ever narrowing the distance between us. Soon we could see the hulls above the water, and only a little while later, we could make out figures aboard the raiding vessels. The Sea Wolves fell to counting them in an effort to reckon the number of the enemy, arguing over the estimates, and counting again.
It seemed there were at least thirty raiders aboard each of the red ships, while we had only a hundred and twenty-four men in all-Greeks, Irish, Danes, and Sarazens together. Also, we were four ships to their two, and even if we were outmanoeuvred, each raider ship would, as Gunnar had pointed out, find boarding two longships at once a most difficult chore.
But the raiders had something very different in mind, as we quickly learned to our deep and utter dismay.
The first attack came as, standing at the rails, we saw a white puff of smoke sweep up from the side of the nearest red ship. We heard a whirring whoosh like an entire flock of swans whistling through the air overhead. There sounded a sharp report from across the water. Crack! In the self-same instant, the mast was struck as by an unseen hand, shaking the tall timber to the keel beam, whereupon the topmost tip sprouted bright red-blue flames. The Sea Wolves gaped in disbelief at this dire wonder, and asked one another what it could mean. The Greeks, however, knew all too well, and threw up their hands in horror.
