193
The voyage to Sommerlund is one of ill omen. Deep black storm clouds gather on the horizon, and a fierce wind relentlessly torments the restless sea. At night, great bolts of lightning tear open the darkness, followed by a rolling thunder so loud that it shakes every timber of the flagship. Many of the soldiers aboard the fleet are mountain-dwellers, unaccustomed to the shift of the sea. By the third day, over half their number are so ill as to be unable to stand. Lord Axim is close to despair.
‘How I pray that this storm will lift, for even if the fleet arrives intact, I fear our men will be too weak to break the enemy.’
Then, as if in answer to his prayer, the dawn of the next day heralds an end to the raging storms. But the calm waters now surrounding the fleet contain a danger far greater than any storm.
