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Authors: John Flanagan

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BOOK: 02 The Invaders
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“This way! This way! I’ve got him!”

It registered dully with her that, dressed as she was in a deerskin jerkin, tights and cross-bound leggings, they had taken her for a boy. Not that it mattered. What mattered was getting away. The pirate’s action, pausing to call his comrades, was what saved her. If he’d simply run after her, he would have caught her before she reached deeper water. But now the skiff was well and truly afloat and she vaulted into it.

There were two oars lying in the bottom of the boat. She fumbled to set them in the oarlocks and get the boat moving. But she was exhausted and they were heavy and unwieldy. And now the pirate
realized his mistake. He plunged down the bank onto the sand and ran after her. She heaved on the oars, missing her stroke with one and crabbing the boat sideways. Then he was waist deep and almost up to her. The deeper water slowed him, and for a moment, she thought she had escaped. Then he grabbed hold of the stern, stopping the boat from moving.

She unshipped one of the oars and jabbed it at him, aiming at the hand that clutched the stern. He yelled in pain, releasing the boat. But then he grabbed the oar and began to haul her in, like an angler reeling in a fish. She heaved back on the oar, trying to wrench it from his grasp.

For a second or two, they struggled for possession. He was stronger than she was and he hadn’t run down the mountain before they’d begun their deadly race.

Gradually, he was winning the contest, hauling the skiff back to shallower water. In desperation she released her hold on the paddle, giving one last push against it, and him, as she did.

Surprised, he staggered back and fell, going completely under. Under the impetus of that final push, the skiff glided away into deep water. The pirate floundered to the surface, cursing and spluttering, and saw that the little boat was now a dozen meters away. His companions emerged from the trees now and shouted threats after her, waving weapons in the air. She was relieved to see they had no projectile weapons. No bows, or throwing spears.

But she did.

Quickly, she drew a dart from the quiver, took the atlatl from its sheath on her belt, and fitted the two together.

She took quick aim at the man who had nearly caught her,
then cast. His comrades were startled as he screamed and threw his arms up, then fell backward again into the water, going beneath the surface once more. When he resurfaced, they saw the dart buried deep in his chest, and the banner of red blood drifting away on the water.

In a panic, they turned and blundered out of the water, shoving one another aside as they strove to put distance between themselves and the figure on the skiff.

But Lydia wasn’t interested in sending more darts after them. She collapsed into the bottom of the boat. Belatedly, she realized that she had only one oar. She pushed it clumsily over the side of the boat, using it like a paddle. It was heavy and unwieldy and the boat responded slowly to her efforts. But it began to crab slowly downstream. The tide was ebbing, and after a minute or so, the skiff was caught up by it, moving with increasing speed toward the bay, as Lydia continued her awkward, ineffectual paddling. She was exhausted, mentally and physically, but the men who had been pursuing her were now out of sight as the skiff went around a bend. Dully, she realized that the tide would take her out of the creek into the bay, and then out of the bay into the ocean.

What would become of her then, she had no idea. But she brought the oar inboard and dropped it, rattling, on the floorboards of the skiff.

She’d worry about getting back later. For now, she had to get away.

chapter
eighteen
 

S
kegall was a small fishing village, half a day’s sail south of Shelter Bay. With the wind on their port beam, Hal set the
Heron
skimming down the coast. As they had found when they tested it, the new fin allowed them to brace the sail in harder, with considerably less lean, and the boat moved appreciably faster.

Stig had been studying the chart for several minutes. He emerged from under the small canvas shelter and moved to stand beside Hal. For a few minutes, he took in the motion of the ship, sweeping up the face of the waves that rolled in constantly from the west, then sliding down the far side, to slice into the green water and send spray flying high, either side of the bow. The crew, with nothing to attend to for the moment, lolled on the rowing benches, enjoying the sunshine. Only Ulf and Wulf remained alert, in case there was an unexpected need to adjust the sail. Stig inclined his head to them.

“Those two are behaving themselves,” he said.

Hal nodded. “They still fight like cat and dog when we’re
ashore,” he said. “But neither of them wants to lose his position as a sail trimmer.”

After the helmsman, sail trimmers enjoyed considerable prestige aboard a wolfship and neither of the twins was willing to forego it. They were proud of their instinctive ability, and they were aware from past experience that Hal followed through if he made a threat. So if they bickered while the
Heron
was under way, they knew that at least one of them would be instantly demoted and assigned to other duties.

“I was looking at the chart,” Stig said. “Limmat is only another day down the coast, and it’s a much bigger town than Skegall. According to the sailing notes, Skegall is little more than a village.”

“That’s why I chose it,” Hal said. “I don’t want to advertise our presence in case the
Raven
is somewhere in the area. The more people who see us, the more tongues will wag about it.”

Stig considered the point, his face thoughtful. “True. But there’ll be a bigger market at Limmat.”

“A small market will serve our needs,” Hal said. “We don’t want anything exotic. Edvin wants a few staples like flour, salt and coffee. And I need rope, iron, nails and lumber.”

“And a nice new sheepskin vest for Thorn,” said a voice from beside the keel box, where the one-armed sea wolf appeared to be dozing, his eyes shut. Hal rolled his eyes at Stig.

“And a nice new sheepskin vest for Thorn,” he repeated.

Thorn’s eyes remained shut. “Just making sure you don’t forget it.”

“How could I?” Hal said, under his breath.

“Heard that,” Thorn called.

As Skegall came into sight, Hal had the crew lower the distinctive triangular sail.

“We’ll row in,” he said. “I don’t know if Zavac ever saw
Heron
under sail. But if he did, there’s no sense in letting him know we’re here.”

With the same thought in mind, Hal had Ingvar cover the giant crossbow with a tarpaulin, and lash it down tight.

They brought the little ship into harbor, the oars rising and falling smoothly. The fact that the wind was coming from onshore helped their subterfuge.
Heron
could have zigzagged her way in, but a normal square-rigged ship would row. As they came in through the harbor mouth, Thorn hauled the fin up and stowed it behind the mast. Then he dropped a corner of one of the sails over the keel box.

“No sense in everyone knowing everything about us,” he commented to Hal, who nodded his agreement.

A few onlookers watched with mild interest as they beached the little ship. But the
Heron
, without its distinctive triangular sail visible, was nothing out of the ordinary. The crew gathered in the bow while Hal gave them their assignments.

“Ingvar, you come with me. I noticed a boatyard on the edge of the harbor as we came in. They should have everything we need. Ulf, you stay here and keep an eye on the boat. Wulf, give Edvin a hand buying the supplies. Stig, you and Thorn wander around the market. See what you can find out. Jesper, you and Stefan do the same. Keep your ears open for any news of the
Raven
. But don’t make it too obvious we’re interested in her. And Jesper, try not to steal anything, all right?”

“I just borrow things. I always give them back,” Jesper protested.

Hal wondered for a moment if he really wanted to be skirl of this group. Sometimes, he thought, handling them was like herding cats.

“Then this will save you the trouble,” he said. “No borrowing.” A thought struck him and he looked at Thorn.

“Thorn, it might be better if we all pretended that you’re the skirl. If Zavac is in the area and word gets back to him about a ship captained and crewed by boys, he might just put two and two together.”

Thorn nodded. “Good thinking,” he said. “I’ll also keep an eye out in the marketplace for a nice expensive sheepskin.”

Hal rolled his eyes. “You do that,” he said. He realized Ulf was frowning at him.

“How come Wulf gets to go with Edvin and I have to stay here?” Ulf complained.

Hal eyed him steadily for a few seconds, knowing Ulf already knew the answer. Then he replied, “Because we’re not at sea and if I leave you and Wulf together, you’ll fight.”

“No, we won’t,” said Ulf.

“Yes, we will,” Wulf responded instantly. As his brother drew breath to answer, Hal held up a hand.

“See? It’s starting already.”

Ulf pouted, then tried once more. “I want to buy something in the market. I’m hungry.”

Hal sighed. He looked from one twin to the other. They really were impossible to tell apart, he thought.

“Look, I don’t care which one of you stays and which one goes. Toss a coin to decide.”

“I haven’t got a coin,” Ulf replied.

Hal spread his hands. “Then how were you going to buy anything in the market? Problem solved.”

In fact, Thorn was the only one among them to have money. He quickly doled out a few kroner to each of the boys, giving extra to Edvin and Hal, who had to buy supplies.

“Jesper,” Hal said, “find a food stall and get a pie or a sausage for Ulf. Buy it. Don’t steal it,” he added. Jesper looked offended, but said nothing. In fact, he had been planning to “liberate” a pie for Ulf and save some money. He didn’t consider taking food to be stealing. Everybody did that, he thought. He just did it better than most.

“All right,” Hal said. “Let’s split up and meet back here in an hour.”

As it turned out, he and Ingvar took a little longer than an hour to get what he needed. The boatyard was able to supply them with timber, nails and cordage. But they didn’t have the small ingots of iron that Hal wanted. They directed him to a blacksmith’s forge on the far side of the village, where he bought a good supply.

The others were all waiting when they returned, Ingvar carrying the heavier items. The crew were sitting in a circle on the beach, eating. Ingvar’s eyes lit up when he saw a wrapped parcel in front of Thorn.

“Got you a pie,” Thorn told Hal, gesturing to the parcel. Hal nodded his thanks and sank to the sand, reaching for the still-warm pie. He realized he was famished.

“Did you get me one?” Ingvar asked. His face fell when Thorn shook his head.

“I got you three,” Thorn said.

Ingvar’s face brightened. “Well, that’ll do for a snack before dinner,” he said, adding, without any appreciable pause, “When is dinner?”

Stig looked sidelong at him.

“You haven’t even had lunch,” he said, “and you’re already thinking of dinner?”

Ingvar shrugged. “I’m a growing boy,” he replied.

Stig eyed his already massive frame with some misgivings. “Perish the thought,” he said.

Hal finished the first huge mouthful of pie that he had taken and brushed crumbs away from his mouth.

“Anyone find out anything?” he said, looking around as Edvin handed him a mug of hot coffee. He took it and had a swig.

“There’s a big ship in the area,” Jesper replied. “A warship, people think. Some of the fishing boats spotted her in the distance.”

“We heard the same thing,” Thorn put in. “Apparently she cruised over the horizon a couple of days ago, then turned and put back out to sea.”

“Is it the
Raven
?” Hal asked eagerly. The thought that they might be within reach of their prey set his pulse racing with excitement—and apprehension. Thorn and Jesper exchanged a glance, each looking to see if the other had more information. They both shrugged.

“Nobody could tell us,” Thorn said. “She was too far away to make out details. They said she had a dark-colored hull, but any ship in the distance looks to have a dark hull.”

“The fishing boats didn’t stay around to get a closer look,” Jesper said. “Once they spotted her, they took off back to harbor.”

“Makes sense, I suppose,” Hal said thoughtfully, his previous
excitement a little blunted. “But it
could
be the
Raven
. What other large ship would be in this area?”

“Well, that’s the problem,” Thorn replied. “We simply don’t know. From the description, such as it was, it could have been the
Raven
. Or it could have been any large ship—even a wolfship.”

“What would a wolfship be doing this far south?” Hal asked, frowning.

Thorn shrugged. “Probably nothing. I’m just saying, it might be the
Raven
. Or it might not. It could be anything.”

“I suppose so,” Hal said, reluctantly facing the facts. It was frustrating to have so little information. In a way, he wished they hadn’t heard anything about the strange ship. He glanced at Edvin.

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