02 The Invaders (24 page)

A few of them muttered expressions of surprise and amusement. The leader, the man she had called Barat, peered at her more closely. Like Stig and Hal, she was smeared with mud and dirty water from their passage through the marsh, and the late afternoon light was uncertain. Now his face lit up in recognition.

“Lydia? Is that you? It is! All covered in mud and muck, but it’s you sure enough!”

He sheathed his sword and leapt forward, laughing delightedly, to sweep her up in an embrace, holding her close. Stig’s lips narrowed. The two must be friends, maybe more than friends, he thought, with a twinge of resentment. But then Lydia wriggled uncomfortably and finally broke free. The other men gathered round, smiling and calling greetings to her. Several clapped her on the shoulder.

After a few moments, Barat glanced keenly at Hal and Stig.

“And who are these two?” he said. “I’ve never seen them before.”

“They’re Skandians—friends of mine,” Lydia said.

“Skandians?” Barat’s face clouded with suspicion. In his eyes, Skandians were little better than pirates.

Stig sensed the change in attitude and flushed angrily. He took half a pace forward, his hand dropping involuntarily to his saxe knife again.

Hal laid a restraining hand on his forearm. “Take it easy, Stig,” he said quietly. After a second or two, he was relieved to see his friend’s shoulders slowly relax, and Stig’s hand moved away from the saxe knife’s hilt.

Barat had noticed the impulsive movement and he locked eyes with Stig. The dislike between the two was almost palpable.

“Yes. Take it easy, Stig,” he repeated.

Hal tightened his grip on his friend’s forearm. This time, Stig didn’t rise to the bait. He’s changed, Hal thought. The old Stig would have given in to his fiery temper and done something rash.

“Stop it, Barat,” Lydia said angrily. “They’re friends of mine and they rescued me. They probably saved my life, if the truth be told. Then they went out of their way to bring me back here.”

“Probably looking to see what they can get their hands on,” Barat said scornfully.

“We’re only looking for one thing,” Hal said evenly. “That’s the black pirate ship in your harbor. We’ve been after her for weeks. When Lydia told us she was here, we came to see for ourselves.”

“So I suppose you have no interest in the em—”

“Shut up, Barat!” one of his men shouted, cutting him off before
he could say more. Barat flushed and turned to the man who had interrupted him.

“I just thought—”

“You didn’t think!” the man said. He was a little older than Barat, tall and heavily built. “You’re a good battle commander, but you’re always letting your tongue run away. It’s time you learned to shut up. If Lydia says these boys are friends, that’s good enough for me!”

A few of the others growled agreement and Barat subsided, but with bad grace.

“All right then. I was just saying…”

Lydia looked around the group and tried to relieve the tension in the air.

“So, Jonas, what are you all doing in the marshes?” She addressed the question to the man who had silenced Barat. He shrugged.

“Some of us got away when the pirates attacked. They caught us by surprise. You saw that smaller ship in the harbor?” He paused and when they nodded confirmation, he went on to describe the pirates’ stratagem of faking a pursuit so that the Limmatans would open the boom.

“Then the other two ships joined in and they overran the town. They killed most of the garrison in the watchtowers. Some of us managed to band together and fight our way out. But we were disorganized and fighting in ones and twos. We didn’t have a chance against them.”

“We were lucky to get away,” another man put in.

Hal looked at him. “How many of you got out?”

“Thirty-eight,” Jonas said. “We’ve made a camp in the marshes. The pirates can’t get to us here. We know the ground too well. Barat here got us organized after we got out, but there’s not enough of us to attack the pirates—particularly when they’re inside the palisade—so it’s a stalemate.”

Hal decided it was time to mend a few fences, so he addressed his next question to Barat.

“So you think they’re here to stay?” he asked. “How many of them are there?”

Barat nodded, sensing Hal’s peaceful overture, and responded in kind. “They’ll be here for a while, I’d say,” he said. “As to numbers, I’m not sure. Certainly more than us.”

“There’s at least fifty on the
Raven
,” Stig said thoughtfully. “Maybe a few less on the other big ship. And
Sea Lion
could carry fifteen to twenty.”

“
Sea Lion
?” Barat asked.

Hal gestured vaguely in the direction of the harbor. “The small ship. She was taken by the
Raven
sometime back. She’s a Skandian trader.”

“Not anymore,” Barat said heavily. “She’s a pirate now.”

“True,” Hal said. “So the question is, what do we do next? There’s thirty-eight of you and nine of us. They outnumber us, so we’ll have to surprise them somehow.”

“How?” Stig asked, and his friend grinned at him.

“That’s the big question,” he said. “When I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

Barat looked at the two young sailors. He had the grace to look a little shamefaced.

“You mean, you’re planning to throw in with us?”

“We’ve got a common enemy,” Hal said. “Zavac stole something from us and I want it back. You want him out of your town. If we work together, we might both get what we want.”

Barat considered this statement for a few seconds. Then he nodded agreement. He held out his hand to Hal.

“That sounds good to me,” he said. They shook hands, then Barat offered his hand to Stig and the two of them shook as well, although there was still a noticeable reserve between them. Maybe it had something to do with the girl, Hal thought.

“We should get back to our ship while there’s still light,” he said, glancing to the west, where the sun was slipping ever closer to the ocean. “How are you placed for food in your camp?”

Barat pursed his lips. “We’re on pretty short commons,” he said. “There are fish and a few wild fowl in the marshes, but not enough to feed a large number. And we brought nothing with us. I’m afraid I can’t offer you anything.”

Hal shook his head. “That wasn’t what I was asking. We’ve got supplies on the ship. And more at our camp farther up the coast. If a couple of you come back to the ship with us, we’ll give you what we can spare. Then we’ll head back up the coast, collect the rest of our gear, and more food, and come back here. By then, I may have figured out a plan of action.”

Barat nodded gratefully. “I certainly won’t refuse.”

Quickly, he passed his orders to the rest of his men. He and two others would come back to the
Heron
and collect the supplies Hal had offered, while the rest returned to their camp in the marshes. Stig launched the skiff and set the oars in the oarlocks,
and Barat and his two companions retrieved a similar craft from a hiding place in the reeds.

Hal looked at it, raising an eyebrow. “Where did that come from?”

The picture that Barat’s men had painted of their retreat from the town didn’t seem to include any time to stop and retrieve boats.

“A lot of our people leave skiffs moored in the marshes,” Lydia said. “They use them for fishing and wildfowling.” As Barat rowed the boat level with their own, she moved down the beach toward him. She went to speak, hesitated, then gathered her resolve and continued.

“I didn’t have a chance to ask you,” she said, her voice fearful. “Do you have any idea what happened to my grandfather? Did he get away?”

Barat’s face told them the answer, even before he spoke.

“He was killed, Lydia. I’m sorry. He tried to fight the pirates—you know what he was like.”

She nodded sadly. “I knew he would.”

“There were too many of them,” Barat continued. “And he was an old man, Lydia.” His face darkened with anger as he recalled the scene. “An old man. They didn’t have to kill him. They could have disarmed him. But they didn’t. They killed him.” He paused, looking at her. Her face was blank, showing no emotion.

“I couldn’t do anything to help him, Lyd. I tried, but I couldn’t get to him in time. Then more pirates arrived and I had to get away. There was nothing I could do, really.”

She touched his arm and gave him a wan smile. “I know,” she
said. “He would never have surrendered to them. He didn’t realize he was old.”

Abruptly, she turned away, hiding the tears that sprang to her eyes as she remembered the old man who had looked after her for so long. When she turned back, she had regained control of herself. She walked to where Hal was holding their skiff steady against the slight flow of the current through the marshes and stepped aboard, settling onto the seat at the bow.

“Let’s get back to the ship,” she said.

As Stig rowed the little boat around the headland, they could just make out the dark shape of the
Heron
on the beach. Hal nodded approvingly. Thorn hadn’t allowed the boys to light any fires. Stig’s smooth, powerful rowing took them across the bay in a few minutes. When they were fifty meters from the beached ship, Hal heard a soft challenge and answered.

“It’s Stig and Hal. We’ve got some people with us. Friends.”

They pulled into the shallows and he stepped out to guide the boat ashore. Barat and the other two Limmatans followed close behind them. As he hauled the skiff up the beach, Hal glanced around. To his surprise, he saw that the Herons were all fully armed. Their shields had been removed from the bulwarks of the ship and they were all wearing them. The starlight gleamed off ax heads and sword blades.

Thorn, he noticed, was wearing his battered old horned helmet, and had changed his day-to-day false arm, with the clamping hook, for the war club Hal had fashioned for him. He stepped forward now.

“You’re all right?” he said suspiciously.

Hal smiled at him. “We’re fine. These men are friends. Lydia knows them. They’re going to help us take the
Raven
.”

Thorn studied the three Limmatans intently. Very sensibly, they showed no sign of hostility. Finally, he grunted, reassured that Hal wasn’t speaking under duress.

“All right. Stand down, Herons.”

There was a slight clatter of weapons as the boys laid them down. Hal introduced Barat and his companions and explained where they had come from and their need for supplies. Edvin nodded and moved quickly to the ship to pack up the food. Barat’s two friends followed him. A few minutes later, they returned, carrying two heavy sacks.

“Thanks for this,” Barat said, and Hal nodded.

“We’ll bring more when we come back. Look for us in two days’ time.”

Barat shook his hand, then turned away, calling over his shoulder.

“Come on, lads. You too, Lydia. Let’s get back to camp.”

But Lydia hesitated awkwardly, not moving toward the skiffs. Barat turned, puzzled and a little annoyed.

“Lydia?” he said. “Come on.”

Lydia looked down, one foot tracing small circles in the sand of the beach.

“I think… I’ll stay with the
Heron
,” she said, then looked quickly at Hal. “If that’s all right with you?”

Hal spread his hands in a surprised gesture. “That’s fine as far as I’m concerned.”

Stig grinned widely. “Me too.”

Barat gave him a sour look, then gestured peremptorily toward the two skiffs.

“Don’t be silly, Lydia. These aren’t your people. Come with us. Now.”

She raised her eyes. There was a determined light in them and she shook her head once.

“No,” she said. “I’ll stay with the Skandians.”

Barat let out a snort that was half anger, half frustration.

“Fine,” he said. “Forget your friends if that’s what you choose. Stay with these foreigners.”

“Yes. I think I will,” Lydia told him, with growing conviction in her voice, and he turned away, unwilling to argue the point further. He stalked down the beach to the two skiffs, his back straight, never looking at her as he launched one of the boats and began rowing away. His two companions hastily piled into the second boat and followed.

Stig grinned at Lydia. “Good choice,” he said.

But she turned away and said nothing further.

chapter
twenty - two

L
ydia maintained her silence for most of the trip north to Shelter Bay.

She stood alone behind the ship’s figurehead, staring out at the water as it rushed past, never flinching at the continual sheets of spray that flew up from the bow.

“She’ll be drenched,” Stig said as he stood by Hal on the steering platform. “I’ll fetch her a blanket.” He started to move away but Hal stopped him.

“Leave her be,” Hal said quietly.

Stig hesitated. He wanted to talk to her. But Hal shook his head and Stig finally decided his skirl was right.

Unlike their smooth run down the coast, it wasn’t an easy night. The wind veered into the northwest and varied in intensity, so that the crew were at work continually, tacking and adjusting the sails. Lydia, seeing she would be in the way if she remained in the bow, moved to a spot on the port rowing benches, near the stern. She watched as the
Heron
went from one tack to another, noticing how much closer to the wind she could sail than the square-rigged
ships that were the norm in this part of the world. But, after a few changes in tack, she lost interest and resumed staring out to sea.