The oars dipped and rose in the greenish river water that gave Verdun its name. When Ishaq-al-Nadir informed Jarl Óttar that the steep-sided, deep valley heralded their arrival in the trading town, relief was the jarl’s overriding emotion. Their progress up three major rivers had been good but achieved at the expense of his crewmen’s aching muscles. They had endured the wearisome journey uncomplainingly in good spirits. After all, having thrown in their lot with Jarl Óttar, every crew member possessed gold for the first time in their life. The promise of more wealth to come at their destination was enough to spur on the weariest rower. Yet whoever he was, he would never have betrayed his weakness.
Even so, the order, oars aboard! was met with a collective sigh of relief whilst, suddenly,
