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J.B.
followed, ready to move in fast at any sign of trouble. Doc and Mildred were
third and fourth, with Krysty at their heels. Ryan brought up the rear.
There was no point in their stealing one of the fifty-foot-long dragon-ships.
It would have been utterly impossible for so few to handle one. But there were
several smaller boats, narrow, with single oars, and lying low in the water.
The ville was asleep; not even a dog stirred. They reached the lower part of
the beach safely, though Ryan winced at the noise their feet made on the
shingle.
They reached one of the small boats, its oars neatly stacked inside. Jak took
up a position in the stern, alert for any threat, while the others climbed
aboard. Ryan and J.B. were last and set their shoulders to the task of moving
the craft off the grating pebbles.
Very slowly they began to float away from the Viking ville.
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Chapter Twenty-Seven
"GET YOUR ELBOW off my tit, Doc!"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but this contrary piece of wood won't do what I want it to
do."
"Hold her straight, Krysty."
"Gaia! You want to steer, lover, then you come and have ago."
Trying to propel the boat in the direction they wanted was proving even more
difficult than Ryan could possibly have imagined. Once the boat floated a few
yards out onto the lake, Ryan and J.B. had each taken an oar to paddle the
craft farther from the steading.
As soon as the others took oars, the chaos began. The oars were long and
heavy, and it was hard for Doc and Mildred to control them. Ryan had to hiss a
biting warning about the amount of noise they were making splashing, cursing
and banging the clumsy oars against each other and against the sides of the
vessel.
Another big problem was that the boat had no conventional tiller or rudder.
Ryan followed Doc's tentative suggestion that the bracket near the stern was
for a steering oar. Trailed over one side the blade of the oar could be angled
to change the course of the vessel. But Ryan found the method clumsy and
difficult. If he altered the pitch of the oar a fraction too much, the boat
went careering off in the opposite direction.
Eventually Ryan managed to find an effective way of running the boat. Jak took
the steering oar and tried to hold the craft just within sight of the shore.
Ryan, J.B.
and Krysty each took an oar, while Mildred and Doc shared a thwart and did
their best to share the last of the oars.
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It wasn't terrific, but it was the best they could do.
The night air was cool, and Ryan could see his breath misting in front of him.
Behind the boat he could just make out the silvery line of the wake, cutting
erratically over what had once been called Lake Superior. His sight was only a
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little better than average, and he'd long since lost the red glow of the fire
at the center of the ville. Nor had he been able to make out anything of the
land to their right.
In the darkness it was difficult to judge what kind of progress they were
making.
As they were on a lake there wouldn't be much of a current, but there was a
fresh breeze blowing.
"Jak?" he called.
"Yeah?"
"How're we doing?"
"Moving."
"How far off from the land?"
"Hundred yards, mebbe two."
"No sign of anyone coming after us, or anyone on shore?"
"Nothing. Quiet as a hunting gator."
Ryan, trying to keep a steady stroke that the others would be able to match,
was worried that they were moving too slowly. The dragon-ships, fully manned,
would overhaul them within minutes, once they were within sight. It was
important that they keep a watch behind them, and look out for the first
lightening of the eastern sky ahead of them.
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The sky finally began to grow less dark, but with an infinite slowness. Ryan
noticed the silvery sparkle of water off the broad blade of the oar. Glancing [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]