The man was dressed in rough garments, a sleeveless tunic that exposed brown, muscular arms with bulging biceps and forearms. He wore a heavy metal band on the muscle of his right arm, and the muscle seemed to threaten the strength of the band whenever he moved his arm. The tunic was bunched at the waist beneath a leather belt. A large metal disc ornamented the front of the belt, and a heavy battle-ax hung from its side.
The man shouted something to the crew and the ship swung around, its brightly colored sail emptying itself of wind and collapsing like a fat lady into an easy-chair.
Neil heard a faint click, and he knew that Dave had released the safety on his rifle. He did the same and waited.
The man standing in the prow of the ship looked taller as the ship drifted closer. Neil noticed for the first time that he wore a bright, reddish-blond beard.
The man leaned over the side of his ship and shouted something at the time machine.
“What’s he saying?” Dave asked.
“I don’t know.”
As if at a signal, Neil and Dave lifted their rifles. Neil’s finger curled around the trigger guard, ready to slip into position if the need arose. He suddenly thought of something. “Dave. I haven’t got another clip after this one.”
Dave reached into his pocket and handed two clips to Neil. Neil slipped these into his back pocket and looked over at the ship again.
Every member of the crew was clearly visible for the first time.
There were at least twenty-five men in the vessel, and they lined the sides now, muttering among themselves and staring at the time machine.
Again the bearded man in the prow shouted something at them.
Neil’s eyes blinked, and then opened wide. He stared at Dave in disbelief and said, “Why, I almost understood that.”
Dave kept his rifle trained on the ship, but he turned his head to Neil. “How do you mean?”
“Well,” Neil hesitated, unsure of himself, “it sounded like Swedish.”
“Do you understand Swedish?”
“Why, sure. My father was born in Sweden. We spoke it every time my grandfather came to visit.”
Dave considered this for a moment. “Yell something over to the big blond guy. In Swedish, I mean.”
“What shall I say?”
“Just tell him we’re not looking for any trouble, that’s all.”
Neil shouted over to the Norse vessel, “Hel-l-l-l-lo. We are friends and come in peace.” He was surprised at how easily the Swedish came to him, considering he hadn’t spoken it for quite some time.
There was an excited muttering on the Norse ship. The sailors turned to each other, and some pointed at Neil. The blond giant spoke to a man standing beside him and then shouted back, “We too are friends.”
“What’d he say?” Dave wanted to know.
“They’re friends,” Neil told him.
“They probably speak an ancient Swedish,” Dave mused. “Thank God we didn’t run into a Chinese ship.” He glanced skeptically at Neil. “Or do you speak that too?”
Neil grinned. “Just Swedish. And high-school Spanish.”
“Are these guys hard to understand?”
“A little.”
“Think you can get the story from them? Find out if they’ll give us a tow to land?”
“I’ll try.” He turned to the Norsemen again and shouted, “Will you tow us to land?”
Again the sailors reacted to Neil’s voice. Another man joined the bearded blond in the prow. He was short and muscular, with an enormous barrel chest covered with black, curly hair. He stood close to the blond man who, Neil suspected, was captain of the ship. They held a hurried consultation, and then the captain shouted back across the water, in Swedish, in a booming voice, “We are lost, and do not know where there is land. Are you not from these waters?”
Neil turned to Dave and said, “They’re lost too. They think we’re from these parts.”
“What?” Dave asked. He scratched his head in puzzlement. “I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. For a minute there, I thought we’d traveled clear across the Atlantic.” He shook his head and added, “Maybe we are in the Gulf of Mexico, after all. But what are Norsemen doing here? Ask them how they got here, will you?”
“How do you happen to be in these waters?” Neil yelled.
“A storm blew us off course,” the Norseman answered. “We lost nine members of our crew. We have no idea where we are.”
Neil translated, and Dave said, “Find out more.”
“Where are you from?”
“From the Northland. And you?”
“From a land unknown to you.”
“Then how do you speak our tongue?” the Norseman asked.
“My father knows your tongue well.”
“Is this one with you your father?”
“No. This is a friend, Dave Saunders.”
Dave looked up at mention of his name. “What’s going on?” he asked, a puzzled frown stretching across his brow.
“Dave Saunders?” the Norseman asked.
“This is the name he is called,” Neil explained.
“And yours?”
“Neil.”
“My,” Dave remarked. “This is getting to be a regular tea party.”
“I am Erik!” the Norseman said proudly. “Son of Johan the Black, and captain of this vessel.”
“I’m glad to know you,” Neil called politely.
“Ask them if we may come aboard,” Dave said, beginning to get somewhat impatient with all the talk.
“May we come aboard?” Neil shouted to Erik.
The muttering among the sailors grew louder, and Neil saw the short man with the hairy chest shake his head violently and wave his ax in the air.
“What’s biting Shorty?” Dave asked.
“I don’t know,” Neil admitted.
Erik listened to the short man and then called over to Neil, “My crew say your ship is cursed, that you are evil.”
“Our ship is strange to you because it is unlike yours. All the ships in our land are like this one,” Neil lied.
The short, hairy man standing next to Erik shouted, “I am Olaf, son of Lars the shipmaker, and second in command on this vessel. Bring your ship closer that we may examine it.”
“There’s Shorty hopping up and down again,” Dave said. “What’s he want now?”
“They think we’re cursed because of the machine. They want to have a closer look at it.”
“Tell them we’re damaged, and they should come to us. I’ll cover with the rifle.”
Neil cleared his throat and shouted, in Swedish, “Our ship is crippled. We cannot move it. You can row closer if you like.”
Erik listened to Olaf for a minute, and then ordered his crew to row the Norse ship closer to the machine. Several men manned the oars, and the big ship moved nearer. Neil could see the sharpness of the axes as they gleamed in the sun. He could also see the drawn, wary looks on the faces of the sailors. Bearded and dirty, they were, and Neil wondered if it was wise to bring them within striking distance.
The ship drew alongside, and one of the seamen threw a line over. Dave dropped the line into the machine, the heavy wooden chock on its end clunking against the plastic.
Now that Erik was closer, Neil studied his face carefully. He was deeply burned from the sun and the wind, and two clear blue eyes gleamed brightly in his face. His nose was straight and a little on the long side. His beard was a fiery blond that covered his chin, his upper lip, and most of his neck. He had shaggy blond eyebrows, and they were lifted now in speculation.
“We need food,” he said simply. “Do you carry any?”
“Not much,” Neil lied. The expedition had taken enough food to last approximately two weeks. They had expected to live on what they found in Yucatan. Erik’s crew consisted of at least twenty-five hungry men, if not more. They could go through the time machine’s stores in less than five minutes.