The Ghostfaces (12 page)

chapter
eighteen

T
here was an explosion of activity in the camp as the crew raced to collect weapons and then scrambled over the barricade, heading for the sounds made by the obviously enraged bear.

Kloof raced up and down inside the fence, barking furiously and looking for someone to help her over the ladder. Finally, when there was a clear path, she solved the problem for herself by scrambling up the inner ladder and launching herself off the top, landing light-footed in the soft sand and racing toward the forest north of the campsite.

Stig had been the first to react, and as he ran through the heavy sand, he became aware of another sound that had previously been masked by the bear's angry roaring. It was a high-pitched sound, a frightened sound.

It was the sound of children crying out in fear.

As he recognized it for what it was, he redoubled his efforts. He heard feet pounding in the sand behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see Thorn and Hal. Thorn had a large shield clamped on his right arm and was carrying an ax in his left hand. Hal was balancing one of the long spears they had fashioned, although prior experience had shown them to be relatively ineffective. Stig had his battleax.

Jesper went past them as if they were standing still. He had always been the fastest runner in the crew—due in no small part to his previous occupation as a thief. He had a bear spear as well, balancing it at the midpoint and carrying it in a horizontal position.

“There are kids there!” Stig shouted to the others, and they nodded. They'd heard the high-pitched screams as well.

The roaring and screaming were both louder now and they turned toward the fringe of the trees. Through the shadows, they could see violent movement. Then the scene became clearer. Just inside the line of trees, the bear was standing by one of the mottled-bark trees, throwing its massive weight against the slender trunk with a series of resounding crashes. Four meters up the tree, just out of the bear's reach, were huddled two small children—a boy and a girl. Stig had a quick impression of black hair, worn long, and brown-skinned faces. And two pairs of terrified eyes.

As the Herons watched, the two children tried to haul themselves higher, to get farther away from the bear's clutches. But as they moved, the huge beast crashed its weight against the trunk once more, shaking the entire tree and causing the lower child, the
girl, to momentarily lose her grip and begin to fall. She screamed in terror, and her companion grabbed her by the back of her shirt, hauling her to safety. The bear roared in anger and renewed its efforts to shake them loose. For a dreadful moment, it seemed that the two children, off balance and without a secure grip on the tree, were about to tumble down to the ground next to the raging bear.

Then Jesper intervened. He dashed forward, switching his grip on the bear spear, twirling it to hold it above his head like a javelin. He paused when he was only five meters from the bear, sighted, drew back his arm and yelled as loud as he could, hoping to distract the bear from its immediate quarry.

“Hey, bear! See how you like this!”

He hurled the heavy spear at the bear with all his strength, putting his whole body behind the cast.

The spear hit the bear in the ribs, beneath its reaching right forepaw. It didn't penetrate—the point wasn't sufficiently sharp for that. But it slammed into the animal's side, causing it to stagger a couple of paces and relinquish its grip on the tree.

It threw its head back and emitted a shattering roar, curling its lips back from its huge yellow teeth. Then it dropped to all fours and lunged at Jesper, who was now unarmed.

The fleet-footed ex-thief had noted the bear's injured left forepaw. Instinctively, he knew it would be less agile in a turn to the right, pushing off from the left. He leapt to the bear's right. As it tried to follow him, it inadvertently put weight on the useless left paw and stumbled, snarling in fury as the darting figure in front of it eluded it once more.

Stig dashed toward it and swung a horizontal blow with his ax. He had seen Jesper's ploy and he attacked from the bear's left. The
bear, seeing him coming, rose to its full height, teeth bared. Stig swung another blow at the bear, catching it on the left forepaw. Blood spurted from the wound but it did little to impede the bear's fighting abilities, as that paw was already damaged and useless. The creature swung at Stig with its right paw and he raised the ax to parry with its long shaft.

That was a mistake. The ax spun out of Stig's hand under the force of the blow and he hastily backed away.

The bear had no chance to follow him. Thorn was charging in from the right, swinging his own ax in his left hand. He caught the bear in the rib cage and heard a howl of pain and fury. Then the bear swiped at him with its right paw, in a lightning-fast blow. He managed to raise the big wooden shield that he had clamped on to his hook and block the blow. But the force of it drove the shield into his own ribs and hurled him from his feet, sending him flying several meters. As the bear went to follow up its advantage, it found Hal blocking its way.

The skirl held his long bear spear in a two-handed underhand grip. He raised the point now, darting it at the bear's face and eyes in a series of rapid jabs. The bear, big and clumsy as it might appear, was remarkably fast. It leapt backward, swaying to one side to avoid the fire-hardened point, and swiped at the spear with its forepaw.

But Hal was expecting the move and he had darted the spear back out of reach. Before the bear could recover, he jabbed again, once, twice, three times in rapid succession. Confused and frustrated by the blinding speed of his thrusts and withdrawals, the bear gave ground.

Dimly, Hal was aware of his crew rallying around him. Stefan
and Edvin were half carrying, half dragging the semiconscious Thorn back toward the palisade. Ulf and Wulf, both armed with spears, were waiting for their chance to engage. Kloof raced in big circles around the bear, baying furiously. When the opportunity arose, the big dog would dart in behind the bear, jaws snapping and tearing. Blood now flowed from half a dozen wounds on the thick, matted fur. But none of them were mortal and they tended to serve only to enrage the beast further.

Hal jabbed again at the bear's face. But the mighty beast, cunning after years of combats, was aware of his tactics now, and as the spear came in, it swayed to one side, then snapped its powerful jaw shut on the spear shaft as the point slipped past its face. Hal felt himself jerked forward by an irresistible force. He staggered, then the bear inadvertently saved him. It chopped its right paw down on the spear shaft, snapping it in two pieces with a resounding
CRACK!

Suddenly released, Hal sprawled back on the ground, backpedaling as fast as he could to take himself out of the bear's reach. Kloof sensed her master's danger and launched a frontal attack on the bear to distract it. One mighty forepaw caught her in mid-leap and sent her flying, howling in shock and pain. Her thick coat saved her from serious injury but she was badly bruised. She hit the sand heavily, rolled several times, then rose painfully to her feet, ready to protect her master once more. Hal could see that, in her wounded, bruised state, she wouldn't have the speed to evade the bear's blows.

“Get out of it, Kloof!” he yelled. His voice cracked with tension as he desperately waved her away. She saw that he was safe for the moment and limped away as Ulf and Wulf charged in with two more spears.

Wulf, like Hal, chose to jab and stab with his spear. Ulf hurled
his with all his force. The bear calmly batted it away, then trapped his brother's spear and snapped it like a twig.

“These things are useless!” Wulf said, throwing the shattered haft aside.

Stig, whose ax was lost somewhere in the undergrowth, stood uncertainly beside the twins, his saxe drawn. The big knife would be virtually useless against the bear, he knew, but it was the only weapon he had to hand.

Hal scrambled back to join them. Jesper stood to one side, ready to dart in if needed.

For a moment or two, there was an impasse, as the bear swung its head from one tormentor to another, trying to decide which one to attack first. The Herons were content to let it wait. None of them were keen to commit to close combat with it. They'd all tried and seen their attacks fail.

Then Lydia and Ingvar, who had been standing back planning an assault, saw their opportunity. Two darts whipped past Hal's head, barely a meter away, and struck the bear in the chest, plunging deep into the flesh and muscle there, then sagging painfully. As the bear roared in agony, Ingvar charged.

He had forsaken his voulge for one of the heavy saplings intended for the frame of the cabin they were building. He swung the massive beam overhand as if it weighed no more than a twig, and brought it crashing down on the bear's head.

Momentarily stunned, the bear was driven to a seated position. Then, as it rose, Ingvar made the mistake of trying to repeat the blow. The bear deflected it so that it slammed into its shoulder. Painfully, but not mortally. And as the beam hit the bear, it flicked it with its lightning-fast forepaw.

Ingvar, off balance from following through on his stroke, felt the beam twitch in his hands. Then, disastrously, the butt end flicked upward and raked across his face, opening a deep cut and hitting the frame of his spectacles, spinning them off his face and leaving him blinded.

Hal saw the danger immediately. He dashed forward and grabbed the huge boy's hand, dragging him clear. As the bear reeled, trying to refocus its own vision, Ulf and Wulf dashed in.

Ulf had retrieved the spear he had thrown earlier and he jabbed at the bear with it. Still dazed, and bleeding from several wounds, the bear gave ground. But it was far from defeated, Hal saw, and was gathering its strength for another onslaught.

He had a sudden flash of inspiration.

“Scatter, everyone! Get back behind the palisade!” he yelled. “Jesper, try to lead it to the ship!”

On board the
Heron
, he realized, was the only weapon that could stop the ravening animal. He grabbed Ingvar's hand once more. The big boy was searching in vain for his lost spectacles.

“Leave them!” Hal barked. “Come with me! Run!”

As the others scattered, heading for the dubious safety of the palisade, he dragged Ingvar into a lumbering run through the sand, heading along the front of the fence toward the inlet where
Heron
was moored. Ingvar stumbled several times, but Hal, with the strength of desperation, kept him on his feet and running.

Jesper, sensing what Hal had in mind, danced in front of the bear as it hesitated, dimly trying to decide which of the fleeing figures it should pursue. Jesper helped the decision along. He'd picked up several large, jagged rocks and now he hurled two of them at the bear, hitting it on the nose and forehead.

“Hey, bear! Yaah! Yaah! Come on, you ugly brute!” he shouted, and danced light-footed past it, just out of reach.

The bear snarled at him, its other tormentors forgotten. Then it dropped to all fours and lumbered after him.

It moved clumsily, but it was deceptively fast and Jesper only just managed to avoid its murderous lunge. He ran a few paces at top speed to give himself a bit of clear space, then glanced to where the others were scrambling to safety, Stig leaning back over the fence at the top of the ladder to drag Kloof inside.

They were all safe now except Hal and Ingvar, who were pounding their way through the sand.

Jesper darted in toward the bear once more, hurling another rock and yelling. It rose to its hind legs, towering over him, and he dived to one side, rolling in the sand to avoid the blow it aimed at him. As he regained his feet, the bear lurched after him.

He danced around it, forcing it to turn through a circle to follow him, then rapidly reversing his direction so it had to turn back. The bear roared in fury.

“Oh, shut up!” he said, and threw another rock. A quick glance told him that Hal and Ingvar had reached the end of the palisade and were plunging into the trees, taking the narrow path that led to the inlet.

“Time to move,” he said and ran lightly after them. He checked over his shoulder to make sure the bear was following. Intent now on his light-footed figure and infuriated by the ease with which Jesper had avoided its attacks, the bear would now follow him into a fiery pit. On all fours once more, it pounded after him, forcing him to check and dodge several times to avoid it, as he led it constantly toward the narrow path in the trees.

Hal and Ingvar reached the channel of water where the ship was moored a few meters from the bank. They stumbled through the shallow water and hauled themselves up and over the bulwarks. Taking Ingvar's sleeve once more, Hal led the way for'ard to the bow, where the Mangler crouched, covered in its canvas wrapping.

There was no time to untie the leather thongs holding the canvas cover in place. He drew his saxe and slashed quickly at them, then pulled the cover clear.