The contrast between the mayhem on the water and his still figure was mesmerising

Badger was soon battling Bradan, which seemed to be trying to escape too, tugging into the baffled sea. The two other boats rocked and danced, their oars in the water, ploughing towards the frightened walruses whose heads bobbed like barrels, stretching themselves up to see what was happening on the spit.

Rian was intent on Manigan, though Bradan’s rocking made it hard to get a clear view.

She saw a weapon lifted high – the spike, perhaps – and then the boat lurched and she couldn’t tell if it had struck.

She saw him bend to pick something up then defend himself from the huge white tusks with his shield, staggering backwards with the impact.

Another wave slapped Bradan and she nearly toppled, grabbing onto the mast.

She looked back. Manigan was running down the beach but not towards them.

He was shouting and gesticulating with both arms, his shield and his hand gesturing a halt, his head shaking.

She saw the open mouth and over the waves she heard his voice in a bellow of rage.

“Don’t kill them!”

She remembered the curse he had laid and a shudder went through her.

The walrus was not following Manigan. It lay, motionless. She did not know how, but he must have overcome it.

The men on the two boats were intent on slaughter. Spears hit the water, splashing, and were hauled back in on their ropes to be tried again.

Then one struck and stuck and stayed, and the men on that boat, the smaller of the two, went at the kill with spikes and blades. The sea turned red with gore.

The bigger boat soon did the same. Two spears hit almost simultaneously.

Jan Bonxie hollered instructions as he hauled the rope in and a great body rose, thrashing, beside the bow.

At the stern another harpoonist struggled to fasten his line as it pulled through his hands with the strength of the harpooned animal, diving away to escape capture.

The activity galvanised Kino into speech. “They shouldn’t do that. The curse will be on them. It’s sacrilege. He told them.

“He told them clear as daylight. Barbarians. Who are they anyway? Do you know?”

He tossed the question at Rian and stared at her furiously as if they might be something to do with her. She shrugged. “No idea.”

“The old boy said they’re not Fair Islers. Bunch of pirates.”

She looked for Manigan. He had turned his back on the water and returned to the guard, kneeling beside it in what looked like prayer.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him. The contrast between the mayhem on the water and his still figure was mesmerising.

There was shouting and splashing from the water, thumps of something making contact with wood, more shouting, but she ignored it. Manigan’s head was bowed.

For a long moment she watched him, then he lifted himself to standing in one smooth action and turned to face them.

He gave a signal, a “come” gesture, that seemed to switch Kino into a well-rehearsed drill.

He started gathering things from chests and around the boat – a hank of rope, an iron saw, two big hessian sacks and some other metal tools with blades at odd angles.

“You’d better get ready,” he said to Rian. “Get a knife.”

Badger pulled the boat in and tied a rope around a huge driftwood trunk.

He was trying to hold the bow steady. “What are they doing? The curse’ll be on them. Idiots.”

“Bastards.” Kino had the rope around his shoulder, the tools bundled with the sacks.

Rian found a big knife and showed it to him. “And fire,” he said. “He might want a fire.”

She found some kindling in Badger’s chest and stuffed it into a pocket along with her fire pouch.

Rian looked quickly towards the other boats. Around them, walruses bobbed about, looking startled, as if trying to make sense of the water-borne threat.

One big, noble head pushed up from the surface, showing its great fangs.

Then it turned its bemused gaze on the smaller of the two boats.

A spear landed, digging into the flesh at the base of its head.

The big creature’s mouth opened in a roar of pain and outrage.

It smacked its head down into the water and drove its body full tilt into the boat, then dived.

The huge curve of its back thumped the hull. With a twisting hand-wave of its flippers, it was below.

The vessel tipped and the harpoonist fell overboard, shrieking and flailing.

The boat lurched, heeling dangerously onto its side, men toppling.

It righted again, but for now their attack on the walruses was thwarted by a scramble to bail water.

The bigger boat was bucking as the men in two groups struggled with thrashing walruses at each end of the vessel.

“Let’s go!” Kino was clambering over the bow with his equipment.

Badger steadied the boat while Rian busily bundled up her big coat and jumped down into the water’s shallows.

Hitting the cold water up to her knees, and a splash of a wave up her thigh, she shuddered.

Badger put a hand on her shoulder. “Try not to be scared.”

She looked up at him, aware she must be wide-eyed and pale, desperately wanting to get back onto what felt like the safety of the boat.

But she was also pulled to be with Manigan, helping him to do whatever it was they needed to do.

She said nothing, just tried a smile.

“Do exactly what he says,” said Badger. “No questions.”

Kino was watching the stramash. “Manigan’s going to kill them,” he said over the noise. “Sacrilegious bastards.”

“He’ll not fight unless he has to.” Badger allowed a wave to lift the boat.

“It’s the walruses they’ve got to worry about.” “Serves them right if they drown,” said Kino, marching off up the beach.

Rian carried herself carefully up onto dry land, trying to avoid the kindling getting wet and ignore the ruckus around the two boats.

She kept her eyes on Manigan at all times. Kino had rushed up and dumped his tools and was talking animatedly.

More tomorrow.