He came back down the stairs to find the other seven boys standing in a loose half circle, waiting for him. He realized, with a sense of surprise, that they were still looking to him to tell them what to do next. He gestured to the weapons at their feet.
“I suppose we’d better hand these in,” he said quietly.
Edvin raised the sword he had received the night before and looked at it sadly.
“I was getting used to this,” he said. “It’s so much better than the drill sword they issued me.”
There was a murmur of agreement from the others. The new, well-crafted weapons and the helmets were the final remainders of their life as the Heron brotherband. Once they handed them in, that phase of their life—that wonderful, triumphant phase of their life—would be over forever. It would be as if it never happened.
Ulf looked round at his companions and said, shame-faced, “I’m sorry, fellows. This is all my fault.”
For once, his twin didn’t seize on an opportunity to upbraid him. The others shifted their feet, not making eye contact. Finally, Hal broke the awkward silence. The temptation was to scream abuse at Ulf for bringing them to this pass. But in his heart, he knew that would serve no purpose. From now on, the only friends this group had would be each other. They couldn’t afford to alienate one of their number. And deep down he knew that he, ultimately, was the one to blame. That was the burden of leadership.
“Forget it, Ulf. Thorn was right. If you’d been awake, Zavac’s men would have killed you.”
There was a mumble of agreement from the others. Maybe it wasn’t wholehearted, but it was there, nonetheless.
“I guess it’s really all over,” said Stefan miserably. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll never get a place in a wolfship crew,” Stig said. “They’ll never forgive us.”
“I liked being a Heron,” Ingvar put in sadly. “For the first time in my life, I felt people actually respected me.”
Wulf looked at him and laughed bitterly. “Better get over that. From now on, being a Heron will make you a target. Everyone hates us. And they won’t stop hating us.”
“We should stick together,” Jesper said. “After all, we’re all we’ve got.”
“But what can we do? Nobody will hire us, at least, not for anything worthwhile.”
“Maybe in time, they’ll forget,” Edvin said hopefully.
But Stig shook his head. “Not in our lifetimes. This was the Andomal, remember? They won’t forget that we were the ones who lost it. Wulf is right. There will be nothing for us. No jobs. No respect. Nobody here will want anything to do with us.”
“We don’t have to stay here. We could become traders,” Stefan suggested.
Ulf looked at him scornfully. “Traders need a ship,” he said.
“We’ve got the
Heron
… ,” Stefan began, then he remembered. “Oh … yes. They’re confiscating that, aren’t they?”
Hal had listened to them without a word. The picture they painted was a bleak one. But it was accurate. There would be no future for any of them in Hallasholm. So that left them only one alternative.
“I’m not going to let that happen,” he said quietly. They all turned to look at him.
“You plan to fight them?” Stig asked. His tone said he thought that idea was crazy. But Hal shook his head.
“Hardly. The way they feel about us, they’d be lining up to kill us. I plan to take the
Heron
and sail away—if enough of you will come with me to form a crew.”
Now the idea was out in the open. It was a definite proposal and not just wild talk. They all fell silent, thinking about it.
“But this is our home,” Edvin said uncertainly, breaking the silence.
Hal nodded. “It is. But it’s not going to be much of a home for us from now on.”
“I’ll go with you, Hal,” Ingvar declared suddenly. He ran his shortsighted gaze around the blurred group of figures. “Who else is with us?”
Hal looked at the big boy in surprise. He had honestly expected that Stig might be the first to volunteer to go with him. He looked now at his best friend, a note of appeal in his voice.
“Stig?” he said. “How about you?” He hated that he had to ask. But he knew that without Stig, he couldn’t do it.
Stig shuffled his feet awkwardly. His face flushed.
“I don’t know. I hate the idea of just running away. It’s kind of cowardly, I guess,” he said apologetically.
Hal nodded. He should have known better. Stig’s first instinct always would be to face up to a problem and try to batter it down. Stig preferred positive action to simply slinking away. But he had misinterpreted Hal’s intention.
“I’m not planning on just running away,” Hal said. “I plan to go after Zavac and get the Andomal back.”
That
got their attention. Now there was a glimmer of interest in their eyes.
“Don’t you see?” He pressed his advantage. “This is the only way we can ever put things right! This is the only way we can ever live normal lives here. We won’t be remembered as the people who lost the Andomal. We’ll be the people who got it back!”
Stig’s face was split by a huge grin. He moved toward Hal and gripped his hand, pumping it furiously.
“Now you’re talking!” he said enthusiastically. “Count me in!”
“Me too!” said Ulf and Wulf in a chorus. Then they turned on each other.
“I said it first!” said Wulf.
“The heck you did!” Ulf told him. “I was always going to—”
“Stop!” Hal yelled at them. But in spite of the situation, he couldn’t help laughing. These two would never change. They looked up at him, confused, then they smiled.
“Sorry, Hal,” they chorused.
“I suppose you could use a good thief on your journey,” Jesper said. “I’ll come.”
“Me too,” Stefan said, grinning. That left only Edvin. They all turned to look at him. He was frowning.
“Catch Zavac and get the Andomal back?” he said thoughtfully. “It’s a big task. Do you really think we have the slightest chance?”
Hal went to answer, but Ingvar forestalled him.
“Put it this way, Edvin. We never had
any
chance of beating the Wolves and the Sharks. But we did. Because we’re the Heron brotherband. And we can do anything we set our minds to.”
Slowly Edvin began to smile. “Thanks for reminding me of that, Ingvar,” he said.
The big boy sniffed derisively. “I’ve told you before. I’m shortsighted, not stupid.”
“All right,” Edvin said, addressing Hal. “I’m in too. But there are practical matters we should consider.”
Stig groaned. “Do we
have
to?” he asked. “I hate practical matters.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Edvin told him. But then he went on. “We’re going to need supplies and tools and money and stores for the ship.”
“Stores and tools are fine. I’ve got plenty at the work site at Bearclaw Creek. Supplies I can get from my mother’s storehouse. I’m sure she’ll forgive me.” He added the last a little guiltily. He hated the idea of stealing from his mam, but he could see no other way.
The others nodded. They were eager now to get moving.
“We’ve got our weapons, and all the other kit we’ll need is at our barracks,” Hal said. Then he held up a warning hand. “One thing,” he said. “You can’t tell anybody. If word gets out, Erak will stop us. Leave notes for your families if you have to. But don’t tell them what we’re doing.”
He glanced at the sun. “I figure we have about three hours before Erak expects us to hand in our weapons. We need that time to load the ship. If anyone gets wind of what we’re up to, it’s all over.”
“What about money?” Edvin asked. “Whatever supplies you can get won’t last forever. We’ll need to buy more.”
Hal hesitated. “Maybe we can become traders, as Stefan suggested. Carry passengers or cargo. We’ll manage somehow.”
“I’ve got money,” said a new voice. “I’ve got all we’ll need.” They turned, startled, as Thorn emerged from behind the shrine, where he had been listening.
“Thorn!” said Hal, with a delighted grin. “Where did you spring from? And what do you mean, ‘all we’ll need’?”
“I’ve been listening back there since you got here,” Thorn told them. “And I have to say, I think this is the only thing you can do. Unless you want to spend the rest of your lives as outcasts. And believe me, that’s no life. I know.”
The Herons exchanged excited grins. Somehow, it bolstered their confidence to have an outsider confirm that they were doing the right thing.
“As for ‘all we’ll need,’ I’m coming with you, if you’ll have me. I was planning on leaving anyway, and this will save me a long, cold walk over the mountains.”
Impulsively, Hal darted forward and threw his arms around the old sea wolf’s neck.
“You’re welcome on my ship anytime!” he declared, and the other boys chorused their agreement.
When Hal released Thorn, Stig stepped forward and shook his hand firmly.
“It’ll be great to have you along, Thorn,” he said and their eyes met for a few seconds. Thorn nodded meaningfully. Any problems they might have had in the past were behind them. He turned back to Hal.
“One thing. You’re not going to rob your mother’s storeroom. Take what you need, but I’ll give you gold to pay for it.”
“Yes, Thorn,” Hal replied. He felt a weight rise from his shoulders.
But now Jesper had a question. “Hal, how are we going to get
Heron
to sea? I heard Svengal say it’d be two days before this storm blew out.”
Hal nodded. “The harbor entrance faces southwest—right into the storm. Bearclaw Creek faces the same way, but in the last hundred meters, it takes a sharp turn to the left. So we’ll be coming out with the wind directly on our starboard beam. We’ll manage it easily.”
“If the wind’s from starboard,” Stig pointed out, “we’ll need to use the port yard. And we haven’t repaired it. Do we have time to do that?”
Hal considered briefly, then came to a decision. “Transfer the starboard yard to the port side,” he said. “We’ll repair the port yard when we’re down the coast. We need to get away from here first.”
He looked around the group.
“Stefan, Ingvar, you come with me and we’ll get the supplies. Thorn, you go fetch your money from Erak’s treasure room and meet us back at Mam’s storehouse. The rest of you, pick up your kit from the barracks tent—sleeping gear, clothes, tools, extra weapons, any personal items you’ve got. Get ours as well—and don’t forget my crossbow. Then get to the boat. Stig, shift the starboard yard and sail to the port side.”
He paused, wondering if there was anything he’d left out. He couldn’t think of anything, but he’d probably remember something once they were under way. He looked at Stig, grinning.
“Any ‘small details’ I might have forgotten?” he asked and his friend grinned in return.
“You mean aside from how we’re going to find Zavac?” he said. “I don’t think so.”
chapter
forty-four
E
rak was supervising the loading of stores into
Wolf wind
when Tursgud approached him.
“Oberjarl? I wonder if I could have a word with you?”
Erak regarded him. At the best of times, he had a strong dislike for Tursgud. And this was far from the best of times.
“You appear to be doing that already,” he pointed out coldly, and Tursgud smiled, determined to maintain a feeling of good fellowship.
“Well, yes. But I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank you.”
“For what?” Erak asked, then turned away to berate a seaman lifting a net of clay jars onto the ship. “Careful there! Those things are breakable, you ham-fisted idiot!” He turned back to Tursgud. “For what?” he repeated.
“For reinstating my team as the champion brotherband,” Tursgud told him. “We’re all grateful to you.”
“Reinstating you? I don’t recall that we reinstated you. I recall that you lost and then the team that beat you was disbanded.”
Tursgud shrugged. “Yes, well, same thing really. Everyone knows they fluked the win—that we were the rightful winners.”
“Everyone knows that, do they? Not there, you fool! Farther astern to distribute the weight!”
“Sorry, Oberjarl!” came the cry from another offending sailor.
“I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised that they let you down so badly. To have the Andomal stolen like that, right from under their noses …” Tursgud stopped, as if words had failed him.
Erak turned an unfriendly eye on him.
“Try not to be too thrilled about that, would you?”
Tursgud hurriedly composed his face and said, in a more serious manner, “Anyway, we wanted to volunteer to join you when you go after the Magyaran ship.”
“Who wanted to volunteer?”
“My men. The Sharks’ brotherband. The champions.” Tursgud drew himself up proudly as he said the name. But Erak was already shaking his head.