Wolves around the Throne by S.J.A. Turney

Author:S.J.A. Turney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Canelo Digital Publishing Ltd
Published: 2023-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Ulfr was up early, and he knew it; he was probably the first one awake. Silence lay like a blanket across the beach, broken only by the lap and hiss of waves, and the gentle aural tapestry of many people sleeping. He opened his eyes, half expecting to see sky, but, of course, they had tents, so all he saw was thick, off-white fabric. He rolled to the other side, and could see through the tent door out into the early morning. It was still dark. Very early, then.

On the other side of the tent, Farlof rasped quietly in his sleep. The tents were all makeshift, pulled together from canvas sheets and rough-hewn poles, the ones used by the workers shared by anywhere between five and a dozen men, even three to each tent for the Wolves, though by general consent, no one had expected Ulfr – as their leader – to share a tent. He’d offered Farlof, though.

The sound out there was faintly hypnotic, and he almost found himself drifting off again. But that would be a waste of such an early rise. Instead, he lay, comfortable and warm, the blankets insulating him, the sand beneath moulded to his shape, and let his mind drift back.

It had been a productive week. The ship was properly under way, and they should have everything they need on the beach to complete it, barring oars and sail, and he was content they could source those by the time they were ready. The local harbours had a sort of network of gossip, spread by local traders and fishermen, and he’d put out a call for what he needed. There were tantalising messages of a sail available somewhere in the north of the peninsula, and a local sailmaker who already had a backlog had given them the option that he would have a spare ready in roughly two months. That might be a little late for Ulfr, and so he kept searching, but it was a good fall-back to have. In the perfect world he’d have had the sail made on site, too, but the shipyard workers from Fulquerville were not trained in such things, for they always bought from local craftsmen, which explained the backlog – at least that and the fact that every ship of war in the region had been refitted over the past half year in anticipation of trouble.

The oars were another issue. There were actually sufficient oars of good quality at the local harbour, but they were already spoken for, and since the speaker was a captain of Hauteville’s, Ulfr was not ready to try and argue that one yet. But there were rumours reaching him of others.

Certainly work was going at a satisfying pace, and if everything continued the way it was, they would hit their two-month target, and possibly even complete early.

Which might be a good thing; he had a distinct feeling that they had begun to outstay their welcome. Serlo de Hauteville remained polite and

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