Fitjar sat on the eastern side of a vast bay, and from its vantage, Hakon could see the warships slowly skirting the western shoreline, their sweeps pulling gently through a mat of brown seaweed.
“They are looking for a beach,” said Eskil as he studied the ships. Which made sense, since it was now darker and not the time for men to be sailing through rocky channels.
“Or for a ship,” Hakon added.
Eskil glanced sidelong at his king. “Think you someone has come looking for you?” he asked. “How would they know of us, or our whereabouts?”
Hakon shrugged. “Word can travel faster than ships, Eskil.” Down on the beach, Hakon"s men were extinguishing their campfires. “You see that inlet there, on the back side of that rise?” A small, rocky hill jutted into the bay, separating the bay into two p
