Brotherband 3: The Hunters (8 page)

‘I imagine he’s pretty annoyed that he left that blanket behind,’ Lydia replied. ‘It’s cold and damp in the forest. That’s probably why he lit a fire.’

‘More fool him,’ Thorn said, spreading his blanket out and rolling it round him as he lay down, his head pillowed on his folded sheepskin vest. He sighed contentedly and shut his eyes. Lydia regarded him for a few moments.

‘Isn’t one of us going to keep watch?’ she asked.

He replied without opening his eyes. ‘Good of you to volunteer. Wake me in two hours.’

‘So, there’s no consideration of the fact that I’m a delicate female?’ she asked.

‘None at all. Welcome to equality. Besides, I’m old and I need my rest.’

She grinned at him as he lay there, eyes shut, rolled in the blanket. As his breathing grew deep and even, she took her own blanket and moved to the side of the clearing. No sense in keeping watch out in the open where she could be easily seen, she thought. It was unlikely that Rikard or anyone else would come looking for them. It was unlikely that he was even aware of their presence. But it never hurt to take precautions and both she and Thorn knew it. She found a fallen tree among the tall ferns and settled down with her back to it, seated on her folded blanket.

Gradually, the sounds of the forest became more apparent to her. The click of crickets and the thrum of frogs, along with the occasional airy swish of a night-flying bird’s wings.

Ten minutes passed before she heard a voice from the blanket-wrapped figure on the tarpaulin.

‘Delicate female, my backside!’

They changed places four times through the night. Thorn was on watch when the birds in the forest began to give voice to the fact that dawn was imminent. He watched the sleeping girl, curious to know if that unmistakable portent of the coming day would penetrate her consciousness. Knowing what he now knew of her, and her field craft and stalking skills, he was willing to bet that it would. And he wasn’t disappointed. After a few seconds of the tentative birdsong, Lydia stirred and sat up. Her eyes darted round the clearing and came to rest on Thorn’s shadowy figure, sitting by the fallen tree.

‘It’s nearly dawn,’ she said and, when he nodded silently, she continued in an accusing tone. ‘Then you’ve been on watch for over three hours. You should have woken me.’

He shrugged. ‘No sense in it. I wasn’t sleepy and I thought you could use the extra rest. After all, you are a delicate female.’

As soon as the light was stronger, they were on the move again. Rikard had settled on a due east direction now and they could follow him more easily. The smell of woodsmoke, which they had noticed the previous evening, was still strong in the air. Although now it was more the smell of dead ashes and embers.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if we come up with him soon,’ Lydia said, keeping her voice low.

‘You think he’s a late sleeper?’ Thorn asked, in a similar muted tone.

She nodded. ‘He wasn’t the fittest specimen I’ve ever seen. He’s overweight and in poor condition. He travelled pretty hard yesterday. And those sea boots of his are heavy and clumsy – a poor choice for hiking through the forest.’

‘Sailors don’t go in for hiking,’ Thorn replied. ‘And he was first mate on his ship, so he’d do little of the hard work.’

‘What do first mates do?’ she asked.

‘They watch other people do the hard work,’ Thorn replied and she turned to look at him, the barest trace of a smile on her lips.

‘Sounds like your job description,’ she said.

He raised his eyebrows haughtily. ‘I can do any of the tasks aboard ship,’ he told her with dignity. ‘I can row. I can tend sails. I can steer. I simply choose not to.’

‘I’d noticed,’ she said, and now the smile widened. But he didn’t reply immediately. When he did, he pointed ahead of them, down the track.

‘Well, well, who do we have here?’ he said.

She looked around quickly, and immediately made out the huddled form in a small glade off the left side of the track. It was Rikard, still fast asleep, curled up beside the smouldering remains of a fire.

‘Shall we awaken Griselda with the kiss of true love?’ he asked.

She frowned, uncomprehending. ‘Who’s Griselda?’

‘She’s the Sleeping Maiden in a very popular Skandian children’s tale,’ he told her. ‘She needed the kiss of true love to awaken her.’ He gestured towards the snoring figure, inviting her to approach him. She grunted disdainfully.

‘You go ahead and kiss him if you like,’ she said. ‘He’s no true love of mine.’

They had stopped at the sight of him. Now Lydia slid a dart from her quiver and clipped it to the atlatl as she moved stealthily forward. A part of her mind registered the fact that Thorn was keeping pace with her. But he made no sound.

He’s good at this, she thought, I’m glad he’s on my side.

In spite of their stealth, however, something alerted the sleeping Rikard. It may have been some sixth sense, some primal awareness of approaching danger, because Lydia was certain they had made no sound. Suddenly, he sat bolt upright, looked down the track and saw them, barely ten metres away.

Then, with a cry of terror, he leapt to his feet and ran.

Lydia’s action was instinctive. Her right arm went back, the dart and atlatl already in position.

‘Don’t kill hi –’ Thorn began.

But her arm whipped forward and the long dart hissed away through the morning air. It flashed at knee level between Rikard’s legs, tangling between them. The shaft snapped with a loud crack, but it had already done its work, throwing him off balance. He lurched and stumbled, then fell flat on his face. Before he could recover, Thorn was upon him. His wooden hook snagged the front of Rikard’s leather vest. He hauled the pirate to his feet, then hit him with a thundering left, sending him crashing back to the ground once more.

This time, he stayed down.

Thorn looked at the two halves of the shattered atlatl dart. Then he shook his head in admiration at the tall, slim girl.

‘That was outstanding! Absolutely outstanding!’ he said. ‘Throwing it between his legs to trip him. That was the most amazing cast I’ve ever seen!’

She hesitated, tempted to accept his unstinting praise. But then honesty got the better of her and she dropped her eyes in embarrassment.

‘Not so great,’ she said. ‘I actually missed. I was aiming to hit him in the left leg.’

He looked at her in silence for some seconds, then asked slowly, ‘You were planning to put that great, sharp, iron warhead through his leg?’

She nodded, and he continued.

‘And did you consider how we might get him back to the ship with a huge hole in his leg?’

She shrugged. ‘I thought you could carry him. After all, I’ve done all the work so far.’

T
he sun had dropped below the level of the treetops in the west when Thorn, Lydia and Rikard emerged from the forest and onto the beach once more. Rikard was unshackled. Thorn had decided there was no need to tie him or restrict him in any way. Before they set out, he had taken the pirate to one side and spoken quietly to him.

‘You saw how good the girl is with that dart thrower of hers,’ he said. ‘If you try to run, she’ll skewer you. And this time, she won’t aim for your legs. Understand?’

Rikard looked nervously at Lydia, licking his dry lips. He nodded several times. They made their way back through the forest, with Lydia in the lead, Rikard following her and Thorn bringing up the rear.

As they left the shadows of the forest behind them, Lydia suddenly let out a glad cry and broke into a run. She had seen a large figure moving slowly towards the camp fire.

‘Ingvar!’ she shouted and, as he turned to face her, she arrived in a rush and threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him over.

‘You’re all right!’ she said.

He grinned at her. He had lost a lot of weight and there were dark circles of exhaustion under his eyes, but he was definitely in better shape than when she had last seen him.

‘Edvin cured me,’ he said. ‘He made me drink some foul potion and next thing I was sweating like a pig, and then I was better.’

She continued hugging him. She had developed a deep affection for the big, slow-speaking boy.

‘I thought we were going to lose you,’ she said. ‘I am so glad to see you’ve recovered!’

Stig was watching with some interest. He noticed how Lydia kept her arms wrapped around Ingvar as she spoke. Suddenly, Stig threw up his hands with a loud cry and fell to the ground, moaning.

‘Oh! Now I’ve caught the fever too!’ he said. ‘I’m burning up! Absolutely burning up!’ He rolled on the ground for a few seconds, then stopped and leapt to his feet. ‘Praise be! I’m cured!’

He held out his arms expectantly to Lydia, waiting for a hug in his turn. She raised a sardonic eyebrow at him.

‘Get over yourself,’ she said and he shrugged, grinning.

‘Well, it was worth a try. I see you found our prisoner.’

At the edge of the forest, Rikard watched keenly as Lydia’s attention was distracted by the sight of Ingvar. He looked surreptitiously towards the trees behind him, then realised Thorn’s attention was riveted on him. The old sea wolf smiled. It was not a pretty sight.

‘Not a good idea,’ Thorn told him. ‘Just keep walking.’ He gestured towards the camp site and they made their way across the beach to where the crew were gathered around Lydia, eagerly plying her with questions about her pursuit of Rikard. She replied diffidently, not wanting to appear boastful. But as Thorn arrived, he took over the answering for her.

‘She was amazing!’ he said. ‘Simply amazing. She could tell exactly where Rikard had been. “Look,” she’d say, “that dirty patch of air is where he was breathing yesterday.” Or, “Look at that, the imprint of his little toe on a piece of rock.” And once, she could even tell me what he’d eaten for lunch.’

‘How did she know that?’ Wulf asked. Thorn had known it would be one of the twins who would take the bait. He smiled disingenuously.

‘We found a pile of his droppings and she poked around in it. Told me what he’d had for lunch, his birthday and his mother’s name.’

The crew all looked at Lydia then, unconsciously, withdrew half a pace from her. Her cheeks flamed scarlet with embarrassment and rage.

‘I did NOT!’ she shouted, glaring at Thorn.

He grinned innocently at her. ‘Well, maybe not his mother’s name. I thought you were guessing there.’

She stepped a pace closer to him. Her hand dropped to the atlatl attached to her belt.

‘You keep this up and I’ll put a dart through you, old man,’ she threatened.

His grin widened. ‘Aim for my legs. That way I know you’ll miss.’

She shook her head in defeat. It was impossible to have the last word with Thorn. He was incorrigible. She turned to the rest of the crew.

‘I promise you I did not poke through a pile of Rikard’s droppings,’ she said. One or two of them still looked doubtful, so she shouted, ‘I DIDN’T!’ That seemed to convince them. But Wulf still had a puzzled look on his face. She looked at him, challenging him to speak.

‘Could you
really
see where he had been breathing?’ he asked. She sighed, then decided the best course was to go along with it.

‘Yes,’ she said, and turned away for the main tent. Hal fell into step with her.

‘Good work,’ he said, dropping a hand on her shoulder. ‘And welcome back.’

‘Thanks.’ She allowed him a brief smile, then it faded. ‘How do you put up with Thorn?’ she asked. ‘He can be so annoying! But then, he’s so incredible! Rikard made a run for it and I brought him down with a dart. But he’d barely hit the ground when Thorn was on him. He picked him up off the ground, then knocked him cold with one punch. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast!’

Hal nodded. ‘He can be pretty surprising, all right.’

She shook her head in frustration. ‘But then he can be so annoying! I swear to you, I did NOT poke through Rikard’s droppings. Why does he say things like that?’

‘Because he likes you.’ Hal smiled. ‘He admires you. So he teases you. Haven’t you heard how he talks to me?’

She hadn’t thought of that. Now that she did, she said doubtfully, ‘I suppose so. Still . . .’ She threw her hands in the air, dismissing the subject. ‘Tell me, what did Edvin do to cure Ingvar?’