The Emperor's Elephant(18)

‘Is it far to Kaupang?’ I asked, trying to hide my alarm.

‘Just around that point,’ he answered calmly.

He seemed utterly unconcerned by our situation and I wondered if he had noticed a gathering grey murkiness out to sea. To add to our troubles, a fog bank was beginning to form.

An hour dragged by and there was nothing to do except observe the shoreline slowly edging past. Behind us the fog bank grew thicker, swallowing up the sun as it sank towards the horizon. Now the mist was oozing towards us. The first wisps arrived, cool and moist, caressing our faces. In a very short time it had wrapped itself around us and we could see no more than a yard or two in any direction. It was like being immersed in a bowl of thin milk. From where I stood beside the helm I could see no further than the mainmast. The bow was totally invisible. When I licked my lips, I tasted fresh dew. The fog was settling. I shivered.

‘Have you been in anything like this before?’ I muttered to Osric standing at my shoulder. Walo had gone below deck, taking his turn to guard our saddlebags.

‘Never,’ he replied. Long ago he had been shipwrecked on a voyage from Hispania to Britain aboard a ship trading for tin. It was as an injured castaway that he had been sold into slavery.

‘Why doesn’t the captain drop anchor?’ I wondered.

I did not know that sound carries well in a fog. ‘Because the water’s too deep,’ came Redwald’s voice somewhere in the mist.

I watched the droplets of water gather on the dark tan of the sail, then trickle down, joining into delicate rivulets before dripping to the deck. Somewhere in the distance was a faint sound, a low, muted rumble repeated every few seconds. It was the murmur of the swell nuzzling the unseen rocks.

The cog drifted onward.

Perhaps half an hour later Redwald abruptly growled, ‘Sweeps!’

There were indistinct movements in the mist. Blurred figures moved here and there on the deck, followed by several thumps and dragging sounds. The crew were preparing the long oars that had been lashed to the ship’s rail during the voyage.

There were more noises and some clattering as the sweeps were thrust out over the side, splashes as their blades hit the water.

‘If you want to make yourselves useful, lend a hand,’ came Redwald’s gruff voice again.

I fumbled my way to where I could just make out a crewman standing ready to pull on a sweep. He moved aside enough to let me join him. I gripped the soaking-wet wood of the handle.

‘Pull away!’ Redwald ordered. After a few moments I picked up the rhythm, a slow steady dip and pull. Osric must also have found his place at another oar handle, and not long afterwards I became aware of a figure ducking past me. I recognized the shambling walk, and knew it was Walo. He must have sensed that something was wrong and clambered up from the hold. I decided there was no point in worrying that our silver was unguarded. It was more important that every man aboard helped keep the cog off the rocks.

I began to count the strokes and had nearly reached five hundred when, abruptly, Redwald called on us to stop rowing. Gratefully I stood straighter, my arm muscles aching. I turned to my neighbour and was about to speak when he raised a finger to his lips and gestured at me to stay silent. He cocked his head on one side and I understood that he was listening intently. I tried to pick out the sounds, and heard the noise of small waves breaking. The sound came from directly ahead. We were off the reef, but very close.

‘Row on!’ came Redwald’s command.

We returned to our labour and this time I had counted another four hundred strokes before we were told to stop. Once again we listened. Now the swash and rumble of the breaking waves came from a different direction and seemed to be more distant.

‘Row on!’

We must have rowed for perhaps three hours, stopping and listening at regular intervals. The fog and the gathering darkness soon made it impossible to see the surface of the water and the blade of the sweep. We trusted entirely to Redwald’s commands. Eventually, during one of the listening pauses, I heard him tell one of his men to take the helm. Then I heard the shipmaster’s clogs thump along the deck as he moved forward.

‘Row on!’ This time Redwald’s command came from the bows. Then, every twenty or so strokes, I heard a splash very close by.

‘What’s the captain doing?’ I whispered to my oar comrade.

‘Soundings,’ he hissed back irritably, as if I was an imbecile to have asked.

The explanation meant nothing to me so I kept on heaving on the handle of the sweep until finally Redwald’s voice came floating back. We were to stop rowing and the crew were to go forward and drop anchor.

Gladly I helped pull aboard the heavy sweep and laid it on deck. From the bow I heard a heavier splash which must have been our anchor hitting the water, then the thrum of rope, and more activity as the crew made fast.