But perhaps they would be wiser to unfurl the sail and put more distance between themselves and the town before they risked a halt. He wanted to be well away by full day. It would be difficult to resist temptation with her so close, looking at him and smiling happily. But it was more important to secure their future.
When they got to their new home, they would say they were already married, they had decided. Until now they had never spent a night in bed. From today they would eat supper together every evening and lie in each other’s arms all night and smile knowingly at each other in the morning.
He saw a glimmer of light on the horizon. Dawn was about to break. She would be here at any moment.
He felt sad only when he thought about his family. He could happily live without his brothers, who still treated him as a foolish kid and tried to pretend that he had not grown up smarter than both of them. He would miss Pa, who all his life had told him things he would never forget, such as: “No matter how well you scarf two planks together, the joint is always the weakest part.” And the thought of leaving Ma brought tears to his eyes. She was a strong woman. When things went wrong, she did not waste time bemoaning her fate, but set about putting matters right. Three years ago Pa had fallen sick of a fever and almost died, and Ma had taken charge of the yard—telling the three boys what to do, collecting debts, making sure customers did not cancel orders—until Pa had recovered. She was a leader, and not just of the family. Pa was one of the twelve elders of Combe, but it was Ma who had led the townspeople in protest when Wigelm, the thane, had tried to increase everyone’s rents.
The thought of leaving would be unbearable but for the joyous prospect of a future full of Sunni.
In the faint light Edgar saw something odd out on the water. He had good eyesight, and he was used to making out ships at a distance, distinguishing the shape of a hull from that of a high wave or a low cloud, but now he was not sure what he was looking at. He strained to hear any distant sound, but all he picked up was the noise of the waves on the beach right in front of him.
After a few heartbeats he seemed to see the head of a monster, and he suffered a chill of dread. Against the faint glow in the sky he thought he saw pointed ears, great jaws, and a long neck.
A moment later he realized he was looking at something even worse than a monster: it was a Viking ship, with a dragon head at the tip of its long, curved prow.
Another came into view, then a third, then a fourth. Their sails were taut with the quickening southwesterly breeze, and the light vessels were moving fast through the waves. Edgar sprang to his feet.
The Vikings were thieves, rapists, and murderers. They attacked along the coast and up rivers. They set fire to towns, stole everything they could carry, and murdered everyone except young men and women, whom they captured to sell as slaves.
Edgar hesitated a moment longer.
He could see ten ships now. That meant at least five hundred Vikings.
Were these definitely Viking ships? Other builders had adopted their innovations and copied their designs, as Edgar himself had. But he could tell the difference: there was a coiled menace in the Scandinavian vessels that no imitators had achieved.
Anyway, who else would be approaching in such numbers at dawn? No, there was no doubt.
Hell was coming to Combe.
He had to warn Sunni. If he could get to her in time, they might yet escape.
Guiltily he realized his first thought had been of her, rather than of his family. He must alert them, too. But they were on the far side of the town. He would find Sunni first.
He turned and ran along the beach, peering at the path ahead for half-hidden obstacles. After a minute he stopped and looked out at the bay. He was horrified to see how fast the Vikings had moved. There were already blazing torches approaching swiftly, some reflected in the shifting sea, others evidently being carried across the sand. They were landing already!
But they were silent. He could still hear the monks praying, all oblivious to their fate. He should warn them, too. But he could not warn everyone!
Or perhaps he could. Looking at the tower of the monks’ church silhouetted against the lightening sky, he saw a way to warn Sunni, his family, the monks, and the whole town.
He swerved toward the monastery. A low fence loomed up out of the dark and he leaped over it without slowing his pace. Landing on the far side, he stumbled, regained his balance, and ran on.
He came to the church door and glanced back. The monastery was on a slight rise, and he could view the whole town and the bay. Hundreds of Vikings were splashing through the shallows onto the beach and into the town. He saw the crisp, summer-dry straw of a thatched roof burst into flames; then another, and another. He knew all the houses in town and their owners, but in the dim light he could not figure out which was which, and he wondered grimly whether his own home was alight.
He threw open the church door. The nave was lit by restless candlelight. The monks’ chant became ragged as some of them saw him running to the base of the tower. He saw the dangling rope, seized it, and pulled down. To his dismay, the bell made no sound.
One of the monks broke away from the group and strode toward him. The shaved top of his head was surrounded by white curls, and Edgar recognized Prior Ulfric. “Get out of here, you foolish boy,” the prior said indignantly.
Edgar could hardly trouble himself with explanations. “I have to ring the bell!” he said frantically. “What’s wrong with it?”
The service had broken down and all the monks were now watching. A second man approached: the kitchener, Maerwynn, a younger man, not as pompous as Ulfric. “What’s going on, Edgar?” he asked.
“The Vikings are here!” Edgar cried. He pulled again at the rope. He had never before tried to ring a church bell, and its weight surprised him.
“Oh, no!” cried Prior Ulfric. His expression changed from censorious to scared. “God spare us!”
Maerwynn said: “Are you sure, Edgar?”
“I saw them from the beach!”
Maerwynn ran to the door and looked out. He came back white-faced. “It’s true,” he said.
Ulfric screamed: “Run, everyone!”
“Wait!” said Maerwynn. “Edgar, keep pulling the rope. It takes a few tugs to get going. Lift your feet and hang on. Everyone else, we have a few minutes before they get here. Pick something up before you run: first the reliquaries with the remains of the saints, then the jeweled ornaments, and the books—and then run to the woods.”
Holding the rope, Edgar lifted his body off the floor, and a moment later he heard the boom of the great bell sound out.
Ulfric snatched up a silver cross and dashed out, and the other monks began to follow, some calmly collecting precious objects, others yelling and panicking.
The bell began to swing and it rang repeatedly. Edgar pulled the rope frantically, using the weight of his body. He wanted everyone to know right away that this was not merely a summons to sleeping monks but an alarm call to the whole town.