The Chronicler

Faintly, on the fourth slow day, a strange noise was born above the water from some direction beyond sight. Invisible, no one knew the origin, but a cadence remained... like a soft muffled pulse, the twilight whisper of powerful wings, or the stroke of hundreds of oars thrusting the ocean behind them.

Quite without warning, a land breeze suddenly freshened, and above their heads the first hint of sun weakly shined through the milky veil. Since the threat was behind them, Leofstan's boat was...