Come to me, come to me,thought Jack. He felt the crow falter, and then it lost its place in the sky and tumbled into the fog. Jack felt its panic. It’s all right. I’ll save you. Come to me.The crow circled, coming ever lower. It was moving blindly. It opened its beak to caw—

—and blundered into the sail. It slid down the wet sheet and landed on the deck. The warriors closest to it jumped up as though they’d been stung. “Don’t hurt it!” Jack cried. He staggered across the swaying boat until he had the crow in his arms. It shuddered violently, but it didn’t try to get away.

Jack became aware that Olaf’s eyes were almost popping out of his head. “That’s Odin’s bird,” he said in a voice shrill with alarm. If the warrior hadn’t been so huge and menacing, Jack would have laughed out loud. “It came to you. Out here. Where no crows fly.”

“I called it,” Jack said. He understood at once that this had raised his status in the Northman’s eyes.

“Where did you learn this art?” said Olaf. The bird clacked its beak, and he flinched.

“From my master,” Jack said grandly. “He taught me many things—the speech of animals, the calling of winds. Also how to drive men mad by blowing on a wisp of straw—ow!” The crow had dug his beak into Jack’s hand. “This bird is hungry, and for that matter, so am I. We would like dried fish and bread.”

If he was going to tell a lie, it might as well be a big one, Jack figured. He was gratified to see Olaf hurry to obey. Soon Jack was shredding bits of fish for the crow to devour. When it was satisfied and had finished with a draught of water, the creature crept into a hollow between sacks of grain and fell asleep.

Jack went back to check up on Lucy. “You think you’re so clever,” said Thorgil in Saxon. Jack had noticed she used Saxon when she wished to be particularly aggressive. She knew Olaf did not like threats to his bard.

“I amclever,” Jack said with a cheerful smile. He was rewarded with a tightening of Thorgil’s lips.

She leaned against the rudder, her skills unneeded at the moment. The Northmen had unshipped the oars and were stretching their arms and legs. The air was so still now, it barely ruffled the water. “You notice they haven’t lengthened the sail,” she said.

“Why would they?” said Jack. “There’s no wind.” Lucy climbed onto his lap and stared vacantly at the gray gloom surrounding the ship. She sucked her thumb.

“They aren’t rowing, either.”

Something uncurled at the back of Jack’s mind, some menace he couldn’t quite see yet. “So what? Even brainless berserkers get tired.”

Thorgil’s face turned even more sour than usual. Jack knew he was baiting her, and he didn’t care. Just let her try to hurt him!

“You think you’re safe. How long do you think Olaf’s good humor will last if the fog doesn’t lift?”

“It’ll lift when I tell it to,” Jack said.

“I wonder. I wonder how many tricks a real bard would teach a servant. Or did you merely steal one or two of the simpler ones?”

“I’m not a thief!” said Jack, stung.

“You sayyou can talk to animals and drive men mad by blowing on a wisp of straw. You’re awfully young for a bard, if you ask me. The only one I ever saw had a long, white beard. Even he was no match for us. Our king set him adrift in the middle of the sea.”

“Wait a minute,” said Jack as a horrible thought occurred to him. “How long ago was that?”

“Three years,” Thorgil said. “The queen wanted him burned alive, but the king showed him mercy. I wouldn’t have! King Ivar’s gone soft in his old age.”

Jack’s spine turned to ice. “King Ivar… the Boneless?”

“Don’t call him that to his face.” Thorgil laughed, a grating sound like a nail being wrenched out of a board. “He was Ivar the Intrepid before he met the queen. She’s the real warrior. When I grow up, I’m going to be one of the Queen’s Berserkers and kill hundreds of enemies.” For the first time Thorgil’s face glowed with something approaching happiness. It made her almost pretty.

“Ivar the Boneless,” murmured Jack, stroking Lucy’s hair.

“He sounds awful,” said the little girl, snuggling against his chest. How thin her arms were! How stretched was the skin over her cheekbones! He realized she had eaten almost nothing since they lost sight of land.

“He isawful,” Thorgil said, leaning forward to savor Lucy’s terror. “His eyes are like peeled eggs with pale blue dots in the middle. When he gets mad—which is all the time—you can hear his teeth grind at the other end of the hall.”

“I won’t let him hurt you, Lucy,” said Jack, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. “I was trained by the Bard. Ivar may have thrown him into the sea, but he bobbed up like a cork and came to us.”

“You?”cried Thorgil. “ Youwere trained by—Olaf! Olaf!” She sprang to her feet and shouted in Northman, “This thrall says he was trained by Dragon Tongue!”

Olaf galumphed to the rear of the ship. He pushed Lucy to one side and yanked Jack up by his tunic. Olaf’s face was so close, his eyebrow was blurred and his fishy breath made Jack’s eyes smart. After a moment the giant dropped him into the bilge. “That explains a lot of things,” he growled.

Sven the Vengeful let go his oar and also made his way to the stern. “The queen swore the old troublemaker had cheated the fishes.”

“That’s why she sent the Nightmare to destroy him. When I saw it, I assumed—” Olaf shook his head.

“We all assumed,” said Sven.

“We were sent to terrorize the natives. Let them know it wasn’t smart to harbor enemies of the queen. I was supposed to confirm the death of Dragon Tongue. But I got lazy and didn’t finish the job.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Olaf,” Sven said. “Who could turn his back on such fine plunder? By Odin’s eyebrows, we had fun!”

“Yes, but I should have searched for the body,” mourned the giant.

“I saw the Nightmare,” Lucy said suddenly. Jack put his hand over her mouth. He didn’t want her to reveal that the Bard was still alive. “Don’t shush me!” she cried, clawing at his hand. “It was screaming in the sky. Ice fell all around. I wanted to go home, but Father said no. I cried and cried!” Lucy was sobbing now, beyond speech.

“A Nightmare is no joke,” said Olaf with far more gentleness than Jack thought he possessed. “Its weapon is the mind-fetter that causes the sword to fall from the strongest warrior’s hand. If it— she—found out Dragon Tongue, his chances of survival were small indeed.”

“She did find him,” said Jack. Please keep Lucy crying,he prayed. Please don’t let her spoil my story.“I was there. I saw him fall.” Jack bowed his head, hoping to give the impression that the attack had been fatal. In a way, the Bard wasdead. Without his brain, he was nothing.

“Well. That’s all right, then,” said Olaf, cheering up.

“But this thrall is his apprentice. What do we tell the queen about him?” said Sven.

“Nothing,” replied Olaf. “We’ve done our job. We’ve got a shipload of booty. Why upset the applecart?”

“Ithink it’s cowardly to hide the truth,” said Thorgil.

“It would not be wise,” Olaf said carefully, “to put the queen into a snit. This young skald could be useful to us, and by the way, little brjóstabarn,it is also not wise to suggest I might be a coward.” There was no mistaking the menace in the giant’s voice.

Thorgil turned red, but she held her tongue. She gazed long and hard at Jack, looking, he thought, as though she wouldn’t mind putting the queen into a snit if it would make him suffer.

“Believe me, angering the queen would spoil your chances of joining her court,” Olaf said.

Thorgil frowned. “You always get the better of me,” she said.

She went back to watching the rudder, and Olaf and Sven returned to their posts toward the bow of the ship. Jack ferried Lucy between the baskets and bags to his former perch.