A storm hit four days south of Frei. Only this storm brought no rain, or lightning, or thunder. Nor did it bring shields, or swords, or spears. It brought a biting wind that howled northward over the water and whipped the seas into a rolling frenzy that bent Dragon"s strakes and crashed relentlessly against her hull. The ship would rise precariously on the swells, then plunge into the frothing sea troughs. With each dip, cold, gray ocean washed over the gunwales and across her deck, filling her holds and dousing the warriors struggling at the oars. Two of Sigge"s men worked fruitlessly belowdecks, bailing water that would just as quickly wash back into the holds.
“We need shelter,” called Toralv above the wind. He stood at the steer board, struggling to keep the ship"s prow heading into t
