"We have always thought as much," replied Thorkel a little stiffly. "But I am glad to hear you say it."
"In three days the contest begins, however," Njord continued. "The first cataracts are not so bad-little more than rapids. We shall go through four of them very easily, for the water is not so swift this time of year. When the spring rains flood the valleys, it is an entirely different matter. We have good reason to thank our stars it is not spring."
"What of the remaining cataracts?" wondered Thorkel.
"Every man acquires debts," answered Njord cryptically, "but only a fool borrows trouble." He walked away, running his hands over the smooth rail.
"I did not care to borrow it so much as to merely catch a far-off glimpse," muttered the pilot.
The Lord Christ himself said that each day's cares are sufficient to the day and that tomorrow's worries are best left for the morrow. This I told Thorkel, who only blew his nose at the notion and would not speak to me the rest of the day.
25
The first three cataracts were mastered with poles. As Njord had predicted, the water was low in the pinched crevices through which the river pushed its way to the Black Sea. Using the ends of the oars, we poled the boats slowly around the rocks-now bracing, now guiding, now pushing-until we reached calm water again. By the time we had cleared the third cataract, King Harald was wishing he had not brought so many ships with him; after the fourth, he was contemplating the wisdom of leaving two boats behind and retrieving them later.
Greed awakened just in time to persuade him that he would need all his ships to carry the plundered wealth of Miklagard away, and that, if anything, he was foolish not to have brought more and even larger vessels.
The fifth and sixth cataracts taxed the strength and endurance of every crewman, save the king and ten warriors who stood on the bank to guard the supplies against ambush. A devious local tribe known as the Patzinaks liked, according to Njord, nothing more than to lie in wait where the boats were most vulnerable.
Toting burden after burden, I aided the laborious process as each vessel was beached and unloaded: every grain sack and water butt, each cooking pot, every spear and sword, all the ropes and sails and rowing benches. When every vessel was but an empty hull, the men stripped off their clothes and waded naked out into the swirling, waist-deep water where they shouldered the ropes-some at the bow and others amidships-and with brute force hauled the unwieldy vessels along. Some of the crewmen employed oars to fend the hulls off the nearer rocks, and the whole party proceeded slowly, keeping as close to the bank as possible to avoid being swept out into swifter water and thrown against the sheer rocks. Once the ships were safely past the danger, all the supplies and weapons were trundled downriver and loaded into the craft once more.
This labour occupied the whole of two days for each cataract. And if the first six were not bad enough, the seventh cataract was by far the worst. Not only were there rocks and whirlpools, but also two falls to be traversed. Njord, who had until now been less help than the king thought sufficient, was not forthcoming with a ready solution.
"What are we to do?" demanded the king, growing impatient in the face of the impossible task before us.
"A man may journey by many roads," observed Njord sagely, "but only one way leads to his destination."
"Yes, yes," growled Harald. "That is why I have brought you with me. Show us the way to go."
Njord nodded, his narrow eyes became slits, and his teeth gnawed his lower lip as if he were working out a complicated calculation. "It is difficult," the grizzled pilot conceded at last. "Your ships are too big."
"What is this!" roared the king, making the earth tremble with the force of his cry. "Have I taken you this far only to be told my ships are too big?"
"It is not my fault your ships are too big," Njord answered petulantly.
If ever a man stood on sinking sand, Njord was that man; yet, he seemed oblivious to the danger he faced at that moment. "If you had asked me," the pilot sniffed, "I would have told you."
"Is there anything which you will yet tell me?" wondered the king, his voice menacing and low. I could almost hear the knife sliding from its sheath.
Njord pursed his lips and stared at the water with an expression of deep inscrutability. "If the mountain is too tall to climb," he pronounced suddenly, "then you must go around." Turning to the king, he said, "Since you ask my advice, I tell you the ships must be carried."
The king gaped at him in disbelief.
"Impossible!" cried Thorkel, unable to contain himself any longer. He thrust himself forward to appeal to the king. "Strike his worthless head from his shoulders and be done with him. I will do the deed gladly."
Njord's frown deepened. "If this is how you would repay the best advice you will hear the whole length of this river, then give me my part of the reward now and I will be gone from your sight."
"No," said the king firmly, "you will stay. The ships are here, little thanks to you. Now it is for you to earn your silver and get them safely across the cataract, for that is what you agreed to do. Fail in this and you will have the reward you deserve."
Emboldened by these words, the slight pilot stirred himself from his indolence and began ordering the preparation of the boats. "Stand you aside," he said, "and watch well what I shall do."
As before, the ships were emptied. Then Njord began to display the acumen for which he was acclaimed, but of which we had heretofore seen so little demonstration. He ordered the oars to be removed and the masts struck. He commanded tall fir trees to be cut from the forest and trimmed of all branches; other trees were cut to use as levers. Then the empty hulls were pulled from the river and dragged with ropes over the bank on the round logs.
It must be said that, once begun, Njord warmed to his task and acquitted himself well. He seemed always to know just the right place where a lever would be needed, and could foresee difficulties before they arose and took steps to overcome them, or at least mitigate their severity. By day's end we had one ship beyond the rapids and another half way along.
That night we camped on the bank and commenced again the next morning in a chill rain which began at daybreak. The rain made the task more difficult, for the paths grew muddy and the men's feet slipped, and the wet poles were difficult to grip. However, the remaining vessels were smaller than the king's longship, and could be moved more quickly and with somewhat less effort. Night found us with the last two ships more than half way along the dry course. At dawn the Patzinaks attacked.
King Harald was the first to perceive the danger, and it was his bull roar which roused the work-weary Danemen from their sleep. If not for this, I have no doubt we would have been slaughtered where we lay. Up we rose as one man, spears in hand-for raiding Sea Wolves always sleep with a weapon ready, especially when on land.
The Patzinaks were small and dark and shrewd, striking with quick, furious thrusts of their wide-bladed spears and axes before darting away again. All the dodging and feinting made them hard to hit. This frustrated the Sea Wolves, who much preferred a foe to stand his ground and trade blow for blow. The Patzinaks had encountered Danemen before, however, and had learned best how to deal with a more powerful opponent.