"O jarl," said Biorn, "she is not clumsy, but her steersman went down. Let us gain what distance we may. That was a good blow, but we may not strike the next so easily."
The older vikings looked watchfully, as did Biorn, and again they said: "Our jarl is young, but this was well done."
"Westward!" shouted Ulric to Wulf. "We must lead them toward the land. I would I knew this coast."
"That do I," said Biorn, "if we are where I think. There are high cliffs, but there is also much marsh land; and off the coast there are great shallows, worse for a ship than any rocks might be. Watch for them."
"They are our friends," said Ulric, "but they are not friendly to a deep vessel like yonder trireme."
"Aye," said Biorn, "it is our old way of battling such as she is, but there is an evil among these shallows. Hast thou not heard of the sand that is alive? There is much of it hereaway."
"My father warned me of it," replied Ulric. "If horse or man setteth foot upon it, it will seize him and suck him down. But it could not swallow a ship."
"Were she a mountain!" exclaimed Biorn. "The living sand would be worse than a Roman trireme for The Sword to escape from. Yonder is a land line at the sky's edge, and I think I see breakers."
The rowers were rowing well and The Sword had gained a long advantage before the Roman oarsmen had recovered from their confusion. Now, however, Ulric upon the foredeck was measuring distances, wave after wave, and he spoke out plainly to his men.
"Swift is The Sword," he said. "I had thought that no keel on earth could be swifter, but we are laden heavily; so is the trireme, that she turneth not nimbly, but in a straight course she is swifter than are we. She hath many rowers and she is sharp in the prow. She gaineth upon us little by little."