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Her tongue flicked over her lips, turning them a kissable red. ‘We still need to avoid them. One wave of the tail and this boat could be swamped.’
‘I reckon I know what I’m doing.’ Hrolf steered the boat closer. Concentrating on the boat and the whales would allow him time to control his reaction to her. His body ached with the need of her. He struggled to remember when a woman had last had this effect on him. He needed to bed her soon and get her out of his mind so he could concentrate on more important matters, like defeating Lavrans.
‘Then I should get back to where Magda and Inga are.’
He captured her wrist and tugged. ‘Stay. They are both sleeping. Magda would only panic about sea monsters. She is not a very good passenger and Inga often gets seasick. I’ve learnt to let them sleep.’
‘Spoken with an experienced voice.’
‘I’ve travelled a few times on the sea.’ He stared at her, willing her to believe in him. ‘Trust me with my boat. I won’t put anyone in danger.’
She sank down beside him. Together they watched the progress of the whales. One surfaced near them and another went under the boat, but Hrolf gave quiet commands to his men who instantly obeyed them.
There was a final spout of water before the animals dived deep and disappeared. The entire boat sat in total silence with resting oars as the sunlight played on the water.
‘Yes, I do believe you know how to handle a boat,’ she said, breaking the almost reverent silence. ‘The whales will bring luck.’
‘High praise indeed.’ Hrolf gave a command and his men began to row in earnest. ‘The whales are a good omen. Are you willing to admit that?’
‘I’d forgotten how magnificent they could be,’ Sayrid admitted with a half shrug. ‘If I had been in charge of the steering oar, we wouldn’t have seen that and it is something I will remember for a long time.’
Hrolf put his hand over hers. It trembled. ‘The entrance to the fabled harbour is coming shortly. Kettil explained the landmarks so I wouldn’t get lost. Will you share its secret, even though I was unable to bring your sister with us?’
‘The entrance is blockaded.’ She spoke to the oar. ‘Even Kettil doesn’t know the pathway through. I changed it before I left for the Assembly.’
Hrolf went completely still. She had confirmed what he suspected. ‘I can pick my way through. It is why the boat rides high in the water. I’ve made my way through narrow passages before. I can post a man on the prow as a lookout.’
‘There are only three people who know how to make it through—Regin, Auda and me. We have sworn never to utter the directions out loud or write them down.’
Hrolf closed his eyes. She was right. He might risk his men, but Inga? His uncle would not have hesitated, but Hrolf knew he couldn’t do it. ‘I suspect Lavrans will try to take the headland. And I think someone will betray the secret to him.’
He willed her to understand what he was saying and why they had to go ahead.
The breeze whipped her hair from her face, revealing her high cheekbones.
‘The only way he could would be if Regin or Auda betrayed me and they won’t,’ she whispered.
‘What is your price now?’ he asked quietly and waited.
She wrinkled her nose. ‘My price is steering your ship.’
Trust her with his ship? A day ago he’d have refused out of hand, but he’d seen Sayrid’s intelligence and he knew her reputation for being a skilled oarsman. If anyone was capable of devising a secret way, it was her.
He had to do something he had sworn that he’d never do—he had to trust her with his beloved ship. He had no choice. He moved over on the bench. ‘The Sea Bird would be honoured to have such a helmsman.’
Her throat worked up and down. ‘Woman. Helmswoman.’
He put her fingers on the oar. ‘The Sea Bird responds best to a light touch.’
She clasped the oar with an assurance that had to be from steering a hundred other voyages. ‘I will show you that a woman can steer as well as a man.’
‘When that woman is you, it will come as no surprise.’ Hrolf put his hands behind his head, trying to give the impression of utter relaxation, but every sinew tensed until she brought the ship back to a steady course. His uncle had been wrong—women could have other skills than cooking, weaving and bed sport. But it was still his job to protect her.
* * *
The gabled hall rose up by the water. Its weathered roof gleamed grey in the afternoon sunlight. From where she sat, Sayrid could see its imperfections—the gables needed another coat of paint and the roof sagged badly at one end. But the birch and larch rose behind the house and the tuntreet spread its branches in front. Home.
