He listened in on the various conversations around the fire. Ulf and Wulf were discussing snowflakes again, while Stefan interjected in their conversation from time to time to ask pointed technical questions—which neither of the twins could answer. Stig and Thorn were reviewing the battle at the lakeshore and analyzing where the Temujai patrol commander had gone wrong. Ingvar and Lydia, sitting close together with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders, listened keenly to that discussion. Lydia was particularly interested in the fact that the Skandians had hurled a volley of spears at the charging Temujai. She had never seen the Skandians employ that tactic before and she said so now.
Thorn grinned at her. “We usually don’t have to do that when you’re around,” he said. He looked at Stig. “Still, I noticed that we only hit two of the horsemen. Our accuracy left something to be desired.”
Stig nodded. “I’m assuming this means you’re going to put us through more spear-throwing practice?”
Thorn nodded. “I admit I’ve neglected it lately.” As the battlemaster for the crew, Thorn was responsible for weapon training and tactical drill. He was a hard taskmaster, but all the Herons knew that his insistence on “getting it right,” as he put it, had saved their lives many times over. They were a small unit. Most brotherbands numbered around twenty, and most wolfship crews over thirty. But the Herons’ skill and well-drilled efficiency made them one of the more effective fighting units in the Skandian fleet.
There was a momentary lull as both conversations came to an end at the same time. Hal rose from where he had been sitting, a few meters away from the circle around the fire, and walked in to join them. The crew had left him alone to his thoughts, knowing he was working on a plan of action. They were used to their skirl coming up with ideas to get them out of tight spots. They had faith he would find a way out of this one. They fell silent as he stepped into the circle of firelight, waiting expectantly to hear what he had to say.
“All right,” he said, “you’ve been wondering what we do next, I’m sure.”
There was a mumble of assent. He paused, looking round their faces, seeing their confidence in him. He had a momentary flash of uncertainty, hoping their confidence might not be misplaced. His idea was risky, there was no doubt about it.
“We’ve got about two hundred Temujai blocking our exit from the lake,” he said, summarizing the situation. “We could sail past them, but we’d be exposed to their arrows and we couldn’t hope to get past them unscathed.”
Several of the crew nodded. They looked at one another, each one wondering which of his friends might be hit by a Temujai arrow. As was the way with warriors facing a battle, none of them thought that the victims might include themselves.
“On top of that, they can keep pace with us down the riverbank until we make it to the first portage. They’d be shooting at us all the way and we’d be exposed while we’re working the ship.”
“We’d be sitting ducks,” Stig put in.
Hal nodded at him. “Exactly. Then we have to look at what might happen when we reach the portage. They’re not going to be sitting on their hands while we haul the ship ashore and drag her down the track to the next level.”
“They’ll be on the opposite bank, of course,” Thorn said.
Hal glanced at his shaggy-haired mentor. He was right. The Temujai were gathered on the eastern bank of the river. The portages were on the western bank.
“It won’t take them too long to find a way across the river,” he said. “There may not be any fords, but I wouldn’t assume they couldn’t make it.”
“No. They’re not people you should underestimate,” said Thorn.
“On top of that, consider how exposed we’ll be while we’re dragging the boat ashore, lightening her and getting her ready for the downhill portage. We’d be well within bowshot, even if they don’t get across to the western bank. And the one thing we know about the Temujai is that they’re good shots. With about two hundred of them shooting at us, it could be quite uncomfortable.”
“So, what’s your plan?” Stig asked. After all, he thought, they knew the problems facing them. What they needed to know was how Hal planned to circumvent those problems.
Hal took a deep breath. “We need a hostage,” he said. “Someone who they won’t be willing to risk killing. Someone who they won’t take the chance on a stray arrow hitting.”
Lydia looked doubtful. “They’re ruthless people,” she said. “We know that. Look at the way they threw men away at Fort Ragnak, just to test our defenses there. If we capture one of them and hold him hostage, they won’t hesitate for a second. They’ll shoot at us, and if the hostage gets hit, that’s just bad luck for him.”
Hal smiled at her. “Not if it’s the Sha’shan.”
Instantly, a chorus of questions broke out, as he had known it would. Stig was looking at him as if he was crazy. Thorn, on the other hand, was considering the idea, his head to one side and a grim smile on his lips. Stig rose to his feet and gestured for the rest of the crew to be silent. The babble of questions died away, and Stig faced his skirl.
“You can’t be serious?” he said. “Kidnap the Sha’shan? Hold him as a hostage? We’d never manage to pull it off.”
“On the contrary,” said Hal, with a calming gesture, “I can’t think of a better time to do it.”
Stig shook his head, puzzled. “I think you’d better explain that.”
“Look, the Sha’shan lives and sleeps in a huge tent on a wagon. It’s set close to the edge of the camp to keep it clear of the smoke and the noise.”
“But he must have guards?” Stig said.
Hal glanced at Lydia for confirmation. “We saw six, right, Lydia?”
The girl nodded slowly. “Yes. Six, placed around the big wagon.”
“And they weren’t too alert when we saw them, right?” Again, Lydia nodded agreement and Hal continued. “The thing is, they don’t expect anyone to attack the Sha’shan. They’ve spent too many years secure in their encampment, with no real threat, no enemy who might be bold enough to raid the Sha’shan’s wagon.”
“It’s a good point,” Thorn said thoughtfully. “The Temujai are used to attacking other people, not having other people attack them.”
“That’s right,” Hal said. He could see the doubt and uncertainty disappearing from the faces of the crew as he spoke. “And on top of that, at the moment, they’re highly disorganized. They’ve sent at least three Ulans to the lake entrance, and the rest of them are busy getting the encampment ready to move. And believe me, that’s going to be a big undertaking. There’s going to be a lot of disorganization and disruption in that camp for the next two or three days. I’m suggesting we take advantage of it, sneak in and grab the Sha’shan.”
“How many in the raiding party?” Thorn asked. The others leaned forward expectantly. And with that question, and the crew’s reaction, Hal knew that they had accepted his idea. Moreover, he realized that it had stood up to Thorn’s expert scrutiny, and that removed any lingering doubts he might have had himself.
He glanced quickly at Stig. The tall first mate had been the first to voice an objection to the idea—and a vehement one at that. But now he could see an expression of eager acceptance on his friend’s face. Stig was grinning broadly, shaking his head in admiration of Hal’s thinking.
“Four of us,” Hal said, answering Thorn’s question. “Stig . . .” He paused, his gaze meeting Stig’s and seeing a nod of agreement before continuing. “Thorn, Lydia and me.”
Ingvar stood suddenly, his giant frame towering over Hal. “Me,” he said. “You said six guards. I want to go too.”
Several other voices echoed his sentiment as Stefan, Ulf and Wulf all stood, clamoring to be part of the attack group. Hal held his hands up to stop their protests.
“Four of us will be enough,” he said firmly. “We’ll have the advantage of surprise on o
ur side. And if more of you come, there won’t be enough to handle the ship. Believe me, we’re going to need the ship ready and waiting to help us get away.
“Grabbing the Sha’shan won’t be the hard part. Getting away with him is going to be another matter altogether. We’ll need the ship manned and ready to pick us up before word can reach the southern shore and alert the Temujai there. We want to take them by surprise. I don’t want them to have any time to figure out a counter-tactic.”
Ingvar looked as if he were about to argue further. But Lydia rose and put a hand on his arm.
“He’s right, Ingvar. Four of us will be enough. The rest of you will be needed on the ship.”
Ingvar went to speak, thought better of it and shook his head, swaying slightly from side to side, for all the world like an angry, confused bear.
Hal moved a pace closer to him and said quietly, “I can make it an order, Ingvar. But I’d rather you agreed with my decision.” As the skirl spoke, he saw Lydia’s hand close on Ingvar’s massive forearm, squeezing it gently.
Finally, Ingvar nodded. “All right, Hal. Whatever you say.”
chapter twenty-four
Hal and Thorn stood among the concealing trees of the island, studying the rolling grasslands that stretched out to the low horizon. During the day, they had seen several small patrols riding along the eastern shore of the lake, presumably searching for some sign of the ship.
“Not many of them,” Thorn observed.
“Most of them will be at the lake entrance. Or getting ready to move the camp,” Hal replied.
Thorn nodded. “As you said, they’ll be distracted. This is an ideal time to grab the Sha’shan. When do you want to get going?”
Hal glanced at the sun. He estimated that there were still a few hours of daylight left. “We may as well move out now. No sense in wasting time. We can get most of the way to the Temujai camp before it’s full dark.”
They hurried back to the campsite. While they had been gone, Stig and the crew had packed away the tents and camping equipment, stowing them back aboard the ship. The site looked strangely bare, with only a burned circle of grass where the fire had been.
“Ready to move?” Hal asked. When Stig nodded in confirmation, Hal raised his voice to address the rest of the crew. “We’ll go ashore now and strike out for the Temujai camp. Edvin, you’ll be in command while we’re gone.”
The slightly built Edvin nodded his understanding. He was the logical choice as a commander in Hal’s absence. He was an experienced helmsman and a good thinker. Most important, he had a stable temperament. Jesper, Ulf and Wulf tended to be mercurial and make hasty decisions. Stefan and Ingvar had no experience of command, or any wish to gain any. They all accepted Hal’s decision readily.
“Drop us off on the shore, then get back here to the island,” Hal said. “You can moor up on the eastern bank, where you can keep an eye out for us.”
“Won’t the Temujai see us there?” Jesper asked. “Wouldn’t we be better round this side?”
Hal shook his head. “There’s no sign of the Temujai and it’ll be dark in a few hours. You’ll be relatively well concealed on the east side—certainly not as obvious as if you were out on the lake surface. Just make sure you don’t show any lights. I want you there because you need to be ready to take us off without delay when we come back. Chances are, we’ll be in a hurry.”
Jesper and several others of the crew expressed agreement.
“When we reach that first crest,” Hal said, pointing to the farthest point in the rolling grasslands, “we’ll signal you with three flashes of a flint. Four flashes if there’s danger. Keep a good eye out for us. When you see the signal, shove off and head for the shore to pick us up.”
“And don’t take your time about it,” Thorn put in.
Hal glanced at him and smiled. “No. We don’t want to be sitting there twiddling our thumbs waiting for you.”
“We’ll be there when you want us, Hal,” Edvin said quietly.
Hal paused, checking to make sure there was nothing more he needed to add. He decided that he’d covered everything. In a situation like this it didn’t pay to be too rigid. It was better to keep things flexible and adapt to situations as they arose. He gestured toward the ship.
“All right. Let’s get underway.”
* * *
• • • • •
The Heron nosed into the soft mud of the bank, held there under pressure of two of the oars. Hal, Thorn, Stig and Lydia were waiting in the bow as she touched land. In a few seconds, they slipped over the railing and splashed ashore through a few centimeters of water. They had barely reached dry land when Edvin’s soft order had the oars reverse and the ship backed away from the bank.
Hal watched her pulling away, turning in a wide arc to head back to the island. He felt a strange sense of helplessness, away from the comforting and familiar surrounds of his ship.
“Let’s get going,” Thorn said, sensing Hal’s sudden feeling of vulnerability and snapping him out of it. Hal shook himself—mentally and literally—and turned toward the east.
They walked in single file through the long, clinging grass, taking it in turns to lead the way and break a trail for those following behind. As they reached each low crest in the land, they sank to their knees and the leader went ahead, checking to make sure the way was clear over the next section. But they saw no sign of Temujai patrols this time.
It was just as well, Hal thought, glancing behind and looking over the seemingly endless rolling grasslands. With four of them walking one behind the other, they were leaving an all too easily noticed trail where they flattened the long grass as they passed. He considered suggesting that they walk in line abreast, leaving a less obvious track. But he realized that, this way, they were making much better time than he and Lydia had managed on their first trek through the grasslands.
Besides, he thought, it would be dark in an hour or so and the trail would be much less visible—even if there were anyone to see it.
“At least it’ll be easier going back,” Stig said after they had been traveling for over an hour. “The trail will be already trampled down.”
“Save your breath,” Thorn told him gruffly. He was currently in the lead, cursing occasionally as the long grass tangled round his legs, threatening to drag him down, or when he stepped into a dip or hole hidden by the grass.
Stig smiled to himself, taking no offense. But he obeyed and they continued on in silence, aside from the occasional soft curse or exclamation over the irregularities in the ground beneath their feet. As the sun dipped lower to the western horizon, their shadows lengthened, rippling and moving ahead of them like grotesque parodies of their true shapes. There was a short period of twilight once the sun was down, then the stars began to twinkle in the clear, cold sky above them. Hal, who was currently leading the line, held up his hand in a signal to halt.
“We’ll stop here for a while,” he said. “Moonrise is in an hour. We’ll get going again then.”
“We could keep going now,” Stig observed, but Hal shook his head.
“Not over this ground. We need a little light to see where we’re going. And there are so many dips and undulations, it’s hard to keep your feet in the full dark. It’d be all too easy for someone to twist an ankle or a knee. Then we’d be in real trouble.”
They sank gratefully to the ground where they stood, resting tired muscles and limbs. Even with one of their number breaking trail for them, it was exhausting work trudging through the long grass. Edvin had provided them with canteens of coffee before they left and the contents were still lukewarm. They drank it eagerly, feeling the energizing hit of the caffeine.
“What’s the plan when we get there?” Stig asked.
“We’ll check out the situation once we’re on the hill above the wagon-yurt,” Hal replied. “There should be six guards, so we’
ll need to take out two before we move in. Then we’ll take one each and silence them. Once they’re accounted for, we’ll walk in and nab the Sha’shan.”
“Easy as that?” Stig grinned.
“Easy as that,” Hal replied.
Lydia slapped at an insect that was crawling on her face, removing its crushed body with her finger and thumb. “Have you thought about what we do with Mrs. Sha’shan?”
Stig looked at her. “Mrs. Sha’shan?”
“His wife. She lives in the wagon-yurt with him. Or at least, it looked that way when we were here before.” She looked directly at Hal now. “We can’t leave her behind to raise the alarm,” she said meaningfully. “Or were you planning on bringing her along with us?”
Hal didn’t answer for several seconds. He had been thinking over the problem of the Sha’shan’s wife for the past few kilometers.
“We can’t take her with us,” he said finally. “There aren’t enough of us to secure her and the Sha’shan—and keep them both quiet while we get away.”
“Well, we can’t leave her behind to raise the alarm,” Lydia said.
There was another awkward silence before Hal replied.
“Are you suggesting we kill her?” he said, with some distaste.
Lydia shook her head vehemently. “No! Of course not. I’m asking, have you considered the problem. Do you have any plan as to what we’ll do with her?”
“We’ll tie her up and gag her,” Hal said. “That’ll have to do.”
“Mind you, if anyone finds her before we get back to the ship, she’ll be able to tell them exactly what’s happened,” Thorn said.
Hal looked at him in exasperation. “Well, that’ll be too bad. It’ll just have to do.” He turned back to Lydia. “It’ll be your job to keep her quiet when we break into the yurt.”
Lydia reared back a little. “Me? Why me?” she challenged.
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