Ulfrik lay buried beneath piles of blankets and furs by the hearth, listening to the rain lash the roof and leaks spatter onto the stone floor. His eyes throbbed with fever and his body ached as if he had been twisted like a wet cloth. Voices murmured and restless footfalls sent echoes playing off the fire-scorched stone walls. He pulled a wool blanket over his head."It seems the gods want to drown us one way or the other." Snorri's rough voice grumbled close by. He too stretched out, suffering with fever that had spread among the crowded Danish army."Don't remind me." Ulfrik rolled onto his side. Though he had changed clothes since his failure on the Seine, his nose still filled with the mucky scent of river water.Snorri's quip returned the horrid memory of scrambling for something to hold beneath the water. Every instinct had told him to breathe, but he had clamped his mouth shut. The cold water had sapped his strength, and the current shunted him toward the river bottom. Yet he opened his eyes and saw a length of ship rigging waving like a slow writhing snake in the murk.
