I became aware of someone shouting in Arabic. "Get down!" he called, and I turned to see Faysal clambering over the empty rowing benches in an effort to reach me. "Aidan!" he cried. "Tell them-tell everyone to get down!"
As he was speaking, a cry went up from those at the rail: another white cloud of smoke puffed out, followed by the strange whirring noise, and suddenly the sea gushed up over the hull to rain over everyone. I dashed seawater from my eyes and when I looked again, behold! the sea was burning with bright red-blue flames.
"It is Greek fire," Faysal told me. "The Byzantines use it against our ships in war. It is a liquid fire that burns everything it touches, and can only be extinguished with sand."
The sea hissed and sizzled where the strange flames danced, before sinking abruptly and throwing up a thick white cloud of steam. "We have no sand-what can we do?" I wondered, seeing no way to prevent the raiders from throwing the stuff. They seemed able to hurl it from a distance with startling ease and impunity.
"Let godly men pray to God," Faysal declared. "There is no deliverance apart from Allah!"
Harald Bull-Roar was once more master of his own ships and soul, however, and threw himself into their defence with breathtaking zeal. His stentorian call rising above the cries of the men, he commanded our small fleet to split, each ship to go its separate way; this strategy forced the raiders to confine their attack to individual vessels and choose their marks more carefully.
Thus, we were driven back to the rowing benches, in an effort to move the ships. In less time than it takes to tell, the Sea Wolf pack was scattering in four different directions, and the red raiders were struggling to turn around without losing their wind advantage.
Two Viking ships succeeded in crossing safely behind the raiders, leaving only Harald's dragonship and the remaining longship in harm's way. Thorkel skillfully guided us onto a glancing course, turning the unprotected hull away from the attacker, thereby reducing our presentation many times over-the efficacy of which was amply demonstrated with the next attack. For, as we swung onto our new heading, the nearest red ship spewed forth another flaming missile.
This time, upon seeing the tell-tale puff of smoke, I was able to follow the progress of the hissing object as it hurtled through the sky to strike the water a scant few paces from the rail. The next attempt cast up spray the same distance from the opposite rail, which brought a taunting clamour from the Danes as they mocked their attacker's lack of skill. They did not, I noticed, slacken the pace of their rowing, however, but continued with renewed dedication.
Seeing the dragonship had slipped their grasp, the red ship turned its attention to the longship nearest us, and with devastating result.
White smoke belched out from the hull near the prow and I heard a whir in the air, and then a splintering crash. Flames appeared on the hull of our sister vessel, leaping and licking in long reddish-blue tongues, running wildly along the rail, spilling into the ship and into the water.
Sea Wolves stripped off their siarcs and commenced beating at the flames with their clothes, which only served to spread the fire the more. The ship itself began to burn, throwing up an oily black smoke.
Harald, standing at the sternpost, called for his pilot to turn our ship, and, heedless of our own safety, we rowed to the aid of our companions.
Two more fiery missiles sank harmlessly into the sea before a fourth struck the sail of the burning longship, spilling a brilliant torrent over the surface of the sail and raining down fiery droplets onto those below.
We lowered our heads and hunched our backs, driving the dragonship forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a figure leaping to the rail; in the same motion a line snaked out across the distance between the two ships. I looked and saw Jarl Harald tugging mightily on the hook-ended rope, which was now firmly attached to the burning longship. He roared for his men, and three Sea Wolves ran to help him drag the two ships together.
Within moments, the rowers on the near side of the ship were pulling in their oars and standing to help our comrades into our boat. One after another they fled the fire; several sailors were singed, but none were badly burned. And no sooner had all been taken aboard, than it was up oars and shove the burning vessel away before the flames could spread.
Harald commanded everyone to return to their rowing, calling a cadence for speed. I thought we would try to escape now, keeping the flaming longship between us and our attackers. But the Sea King was dauntless and bold, choosing to counter the raiders' attack and gain, if possible, victory. In this, he showed his true mettle.
