The Invaders

by John Flanagan

  She looked around the island. The men who had escaped from the town had no time to gather tents or tarpaulins when they retreated. Instead, they had constructed rough thatched shelters from tree branches and bushes. A burly figure was approaching them and Hal recognized Jonas, who had been Barat’s second in command when they had first met several days before. The older Limmatan smiled a welcome now.

  “You’re back!” He too noticed the sacks. “And you didn’t come empty-handed! Welcome to our lovely seaside holiday home, Lydia. How do you like it?”

  He swept an arm around, in a gesture that encompassed the low-lying, scrubby island.

  Lydia returned his grin. “It’s just lovely, Jonas. Everything a girl could want.”

  “Well, come on into the camp and meet the rest of us,” Jonas said, addressing Hal. He frowned and stepped closer, then spoke in a mock whisper, “If you don’t mind my saying, you seem to have increased and multiplied since you’ve been gone.”

  Hal nodded. He liked Jonas. He had an easy, cheerful manner about him—in contrast to Barat’s awkward, suspicious approach. Hal also sensed that Jonas’s friendly greeting was intended to compensate for Barat’s lack of welcome.

  “Let’s get to your camp,” Hal said. “I’ll introduce you all then.”

  They made their way into the camp proper. Jonas directed them to the cooking fire and the sacks of food were dumped there for the cooks to sort through and prepare a meal. Hal wasn’t worried about handing over the food. They’d only be here for a few days if everything went to plan. Once they’d defeated the pirates, they could reprovision in Limmat.

  And if they didn’t defeat them, he thought grimly, they’d have no need of food.

  They grouped around several fires while the meal was prepared and served. Spirits in the camp were high. Most of the men who had escaped from the town were only too glad to see their numbers increased by a body of trained warriors like the Skandians. Unlike their suspicious battle leader, they welcomed the newcomers heartily. Truth be told, a feeling of dejection had started to permeate the camp. The Limmatans knew only too well that forty of them had little hope of dislodging more than a hundred pirates from a well-fortified position like the town. The arrival of the nine members of the Heron crew, and now twenty additional Skandians, seemed to be a good omen. Accordingly, the meal was a cheerful one, with a lot of laughter and good fellowship.

  When they were finished eating, the more senior members of the Limmatan party gathered round a smaller fire with Hal, Stig, Lydia, Thorn and Svengal. Ingvar, who had eaten at one of the other fires, moved over and sat a few paces behind Hal, in case he was needed. Svengal’s second in command, Lars Bentknuckle, joined them as they waited for Hal to lay out the details of his plan.

  Svengal and Lars, like most Skandians, claimed no ability to plan and no affinity for tactics. They were fighting men and they left such details to other people. All they asked was to be given a clear target and purpose and they’d happily go into battle.

  Barat made some pretense at being a leader and a tactician. But in fact, he had been trying to think of a way to attack and defeat the pirates for some days now, to no avail. While he maintained the fiction that he had the authority to approve or reject Hal’s plans, the truth was, he was hoping that the young Skandian would come up with a battle plan that would bring them a victory—although he had not the slightest inkling of what that plan might entail. At the same time, he was slightly jealous of the young Skandian skirl, possibly due to what he saw as Lydia’s defection. So even though part of him hoped for a viable plan, another part was all too ready to criticize whatever Hal came up with.

  “Surprise,” said Hal, when they had all gathered close around the fire. “That’s going to be the key to success for us. If we can take them by surprise, we can negate their advantage in numbers.”

  He spoke confidently. But the idea, once he had it, seemed so obvious that he was inclined to mistrust it. He couldn’t help feeling that he must have left something out of his calculations. He shrugged mentally. If he had, both Thorn and Svengal were experienced campaigners. They might not be able to put a plan together themselves. But they would recognize any weaknesses if they saw them.

  At least, he hoped they would.

  “They know we’re here,” Barat sneered. “Little hard to surprise them, isn’t it?”

  “They don’t know I’m here,” Svengal pointed out. He was already becoming tired of this self-important Limmatan, who seemed always ready to criticize, but never put forward an idea of his own. “And that’s come as a surprise to a good many enemies in the past.”

  “True,” Thorn put in. “Svengal can be a nasty surprise.”

  Lars and a few of the Limmatans chuckled at that. Barat raised his eyebrows. He was annoyed by the prompt response to his criticism and annoyed that his fellow townsmen had laughed. But he refused to let this Skandian roughneck see it.

  Hal pushed on, ignoring the exchange, seeking to smooth things over.

  “You’re right, Barat,” he said. “The pirates know you’re here. And they’ll expect any attack to come from this side of the town.”

  “Naturally,” Barat said. “If we tried to go round the palisade, they’d see us and they could simply move their forces to counter us.”

  “But they don’t know that you have ships now. If we move under the cover of darkness, we can ferry your men to the far side of the town—to the east. We’ll take a wide loop out into the bay to stay out of sight, then swing back in, hugging the northern shore. I figure we can do it over two nights. There’s a promontory about four hundred meters from the town where you can stay out of sight until all your men are in position.”

  During the trip down the coast, he had asked Lydia to draw him a map of the town and its surroundings. He had studied it closely and now sketched a rough version of this in the sand, pointing to the spot where the land jutted out into the bay.

  “On the third night, under cover of darkness, move your men up closer to the town so you’re in position to attack at first light.

  “Zavac will be watching the western side, where the marshes are—and where he thinks you are. And he’ll have his men concentrated on that side, while you’ll be attacking from a completely unexpected direction. That should give you a good chance of getting over the palisade—particularly if we mount a diversion at the watchtowers and tie up more of their men.”

  “Most of them are in the watchtowers,” Jonas put in thoughtfully. “It’s the logical spot for them, after all. They can watch the marshes and the entrance to the harbor.”

  “What puzzles me,” Svengal mused, “is why they’re still in the town. Surely by now, they’ve had time to load up with anything they want and be on their way.”

  Hal happened to be watching Barat and Jonas when Svengal made the point. He saw the quick glance between them.

  They’re hiding something from us, he thought. Neither he nor Svengal were aware that the pirates were still in Limmat because of the emerald mine. Zavac had the miners working double-time to extract the maximum possible number of precious stones from the rich seam behind the town. And, feeling no immediate threat from the relatively small party who had escaped into the marshes, he was in no particular hurry to leave.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Jonas spoke.

  “There are a lot of wealthy merchants in the town,” he said. “And they keep their money well hidden. My guess is it’s taking the pirates longer than they planned to find it.”

  “Regardless of why they’re here,” Barat said, “your plan isn’t going to work. I would have thought a sailor like you could see the obvious flaw.”

  There was a note of something like triumph in his voice. Hal cocked his head to one side.

  “Oh? And what detail have I missed?” Had the objection come from Svengal, Lars or even Jonas, he might have given it some credence. But Barat seemed almost eager to find fault.

  “The wind,” Barat answered in a condescending tone. �
��I thought sailors knew all about that. At this time of year, the prevailing wind at night will be coming from the shore and it’ll be dead against you. It’ll take you most of the night to beat into the bay against it—particularly if you plan to take a wide loop on the way in and out. You’ll just never manage it in time and the odds are high that the invaders will see you and guess what we’re up to.”

  Hal smiled, relieved that Barat hadn’t seen a real problem with the idea. Mind you, his point did have a certain validity. If Wolfwind, for example, tried to ferry the men into the bay, she would take too long beating into the headwind and daylight would expose her. But Heron was a different matter altogether.

  “It won’t be a problem,” he said confidently. “My ship can sail upwind a lot faster than normal. Eight hours of darkness will be plenty of time for us to get there and back.”

  Barat opened his mouth to argue but Svengal forestalled him.

  “Hal’s right. That little ship of his sails upwind like a dream. She’ll be able to nip in and out with time to spare.”

  Barat subsided, a scowl on his face. Jonas leaned forward to keep the discussion moving.

  “You mentioned a diversion,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I noticed the watchtowers have a wooden balustrade,” Hal said.

  Jonas nodded. “It’s pinewood.”

  Hal nodded. He had assumed as much. Pine was the most readily available timber in this part of the world.

  “The planks are thick enough to stop an arrow or a crossbow bolt,” Jonas went on.

  “Not the kind I’ve got in mind,” Hal said, smiling. He turned to Ingvar, sitting quietly behind him, paying close attention to the conversation. “Ingvar, can I have the bolt, please?”

  Ingvar reached under his jacket and produced one of the bolts from the Mangler. He handed it to Hal. Hal tossed the heavy projectile onto the sand in the middle of the circle.

  “I’ve mounted an oversize crossbow in the bow of my ship,” he said. “It’ll shoot one of these at three hundred meters.”

  Jonas came to his knees and retrieved the bolt. He weighed it, studied the iron-reinforced point and emitted a low whistle.

  “This could make a real mess of things,” he said, and passed the bolt to Barat, who raised his eyebrows as he examined it closely. In spite of his antipathy to the Skandians, and their young skirl in particular, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the deadly-looking projectile. He could imagine the havoc it could wreak in the wooden towers.

  “I plan to cruise past the harbor mouth, attacking the two watchtowers with the Mangler,” Hal said. He saw the puzzled expressions and smiled. “That’s what we call the big crossbow. If these bolts start hitting the balustrade, they’ll smash it to pieces. Pinewood splinters easily, so they’ll send splinters flying in all directions as well.”

  His listeners nodded as they pictured the scene. The splinters of pine would become like so many small, deadly projectiles themselves, scything down the defenders.

  “Once we’ve got their attention concentrated on the harbor mouth, your men can break cover and attack the rear palisade. With any luck, you’ll be over it and into the town before they wake up to what’s happening.”

  “What about us?” Svengal interrupted. “Do you expect us to sit quietly by while you’re having all the fun?”

  Hal smiled at him. “Well, if you really want to,” he said. “After all, you’ve had a tiring time looking for us and you might want to put your feet up and rest…” He let the sentence hang and Svengal snorted dismissively. Then Hal continued.

  “But I rather thought you might launch an attack from the marshes. If you take the western tower after we’ve softened it up, you can secure the boom. Then you can use the boom to get across the harbor to the second tower.”

  He paused, looking questioningly at Svengal. The massive log boom would be almost submerged, but the crew of Wolfwind, used to keeping their balance on a heaving deck in a storm, should be able to use it as a makeshift bridge to cross to the eastern tower, and the harbor mole. Svengal considered the idea, then nodded.

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” he said. “We did a similar thing some years ago, at a port in Teutlandt. And once we’re across, we’ll be hitting them on two sides.”

  “Three,” Hal said. “When we’ve neutralized the towers, I plan to beach Heron on the far side, where the beach gate is.” He had noticed on Lydia’s sketch that there was a heavy timber gate on the eastern side of the town where the palisade ran down to the water’s edge.

  “We’ll break that down while you and Barat are attacking and come in from a third direction.” He looked at Barat. “What about the townsfolk? Once we’re inside, will they join in?”

  Barat nodded immediately. “I can guarantee it,” he said. “Once they see they’re not alone, they’ll grab anything they can to fight the pirates.”

  “How do you plan to breach the beach gate?” Thorn asked. He’d been silent as Hal outlined his plan. But now he could see an area where he’d be involved and he was interested to know what his young friend had in mind. Hal grinned at him.

  “I have a rough idea about that. I’ll tell you when I’ve worked it out.” He looked around the circle of faces, searching for disagreement or criticism. He saw only enthusiasm. Even Barat, after his earlier snide comments, seemed ready to embrace the idea.

  “Well,” Hal said, “are you with me?” He addressed the question to Barat. He wanted him to commit to the plan before anyone else.

  Slowly, the leader of the Limmatans nodded. “When do we do it?”

  There was a general growl of assent from those around him. Hal smiled.

  “The dark of the moon is two days away,” he said. “We’ll ferry your men round to the east side then. That’ll take two nights. Give me another day to arrange something for that gate on the beach side.”

  Barat looked upward, calculating. “So, we attack in five days?”

  “That’s how I see it,” Hal said. “How does that suit you, Svengal?”

  Svengal’s mouth curled in a wolfish grin. “That suits me down to the ground. But how do you propose we get through the swamps to attack that tower? I don’t fancy wading all that way carrying weapons and armor, and I don’t see more than half a dozen skiffs here.”

  Hal nodded. He’d been anticipating the question.

  “Use Wolfwind,” he said. “Unstep the mast and take out all the ballast stones below the deck planks. Without all that weight, she’ll only need about twenty centimeters of water beneath her. You can pole her through the swamp without too much trouble. And you won’t even get your tootsies wet,” he added, with a mischievous grin.

  Svengal eyed him for a long moment. He was used to making mocking comments to Erak. It seemed strange to have the boot on the other foot.

  “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

  The grin faded slowly from Hal’s face.

  “I hope so,” he said. “But I’m sure there’ll be something I haven’t.”

  chapter twenty - four

  The two ships’ companies made their way back to the beach where Heron and Wolfwind were moored. The camp on the sand island was in the heart of the swamp and the mosquitoes and sand flies were a constant annoyance. On the beach, a brisk sea breeze kept most of them at bay.

  They posted sentries and settled down for the night, bedding down on the soft sand and rolling themselves in their blankets. Hal lay, listening to the regular breathing of his friends as they fell asleep. His mind was in turmoil as he thought about the next few days and all that had to be done.

  Svengal’s closing comment reverberated through his brain. The Skandian had meant it as a compliment, but Hal was only too aware that once the battle started, all the planning in the world couldn’t foresee the unexpected. Had he thought of everything? What if Zavac decided to leave Limmat in the next two days? What if Raven quietly slipped out of the harbor under cover of night and headed off over the horizon?
The thought that Zavac might escape after all they had been through to find him burned in Hal’s mind like a hot iron.

  What if Hal’s accuracy with the Mangler wasn’t up to the task he had set himself? What if something broke on the Mangler at a critical moment? He made a mental note to prepare a spare bowstring and to inspect the leather thongs that absorbed the massive recoil of the bow when he released the trigger. What if a chance shot from the towers hit Ingvar? He needed the massive boy’s strength to cock and load the Mangler. Without him, their rate of shooting would be seriously diminished.

  What if, what if, what if? The questions and doubts whirled around in his brain until he couldn’t stand it any longer. He tossed his blankets aside and rose to his feet, then walked slowly down to the water’s edge. With the dark of the moon only two days away, it was a thin sliver of yellow light, low on the horizon. He glanced at the dark shapes of the two ships. Tomorrow, Svengal and his men would start lightening Wolfwind. It occurred to him that he should do the same with Heron. She’d be carrying twenty men on each trip into the bay, along with her regular crew. Plus he should set about making a further supply of bolts for the Mangler. He’d need as many as he could make when they attacked the towers.

  Then there was the beach gate. How was he going to make sure they could burn that? He’d blithely told the council of war that he had a plan for that, but he was still working on the details. It wouldn’t be enough to simply shoot fire arrows at it from his crossbow or the Mangler. The wood of the gate would be dry from years of exposure to wind and salt air. But it was hardwood and a single flame wouldn’t be enough to make it catch. They’d need a solid source of fire to get it burning. Maybe a pile of kindling and firewood at the base of the gate? But they’d have no way of assembling such a pile without being seen and shot at from the palisade above them.

  Oil, he thought. If they could drench the timber in oil, then hit it with a fire arrow, the whole thing would flare up. But how could he manage that? If they tried to land on the beach and run to the gate with containers of oil, they’d be cut down by the defenders before they went more than ten meters.