The Battle for Skandia

by John Flanagan

  “Damn and blast it, Erak!” Ragnak shouted. “The Temujai are only three or four days’ march from here! We can’t afford to be fighting amongst ourselves now!”

  “It would be a shame if you had to face the Temujai with at least one, and possibly both, of your best leaders dead,” Halt put in mildly, and the Oberjarl rounded on him in a fury.

  “Shut up, Ranger! I’m of half a mind to believe that this is all your doing! No good ever came of dealing with your kind!”

  Halt shrugged, unimpressed by the Skandian’s fury. “Be that as it may,” he said, “it occurs to me that there might be a solution to your problem—for the time being, at least.”

  The buzz of conversation through the room was cut short as Ragnak swung his gaze around angrily. He watched Halt with narrowed eyes, expecting some trick or some kind of subterfuge.

  “What are you talking about? My vow is binding upon me,” he said. Halt nodded agreement.

  “I understand that. But is there any time factor involved?” he asked. Now Ragnak looked puzzled as well as suspicious.

  “Time factor? How do you mean?”

  “If we accept that you plan to do your best to kill Evanlyn, knowing that Erak will try to stop you when you do—not to mention the fact that if he doesn’t, I most certainly will—have you vowed that you’ll do it at any particular time?” Halt continued.

  The puzzled expression on Ragnak’s face grew more intense.

  “No. I didn’t specify any time. I just made the vow,” he said finally, and Halt nodded several times.

  “Good. So, as far as these Vallas are concerned, they don’t care whether you try to fulfill your vow today or if you choose to wait until, say, after we’ve sent the Temujai packing?”

  Understanding was beginning to dawn on the Oberjarl’s face. “That’s right,” he said slowly. “As long as the intent is there, the Vallas will be satisfied.”

  “No!” A shrill voice cut across them. It was Slagor, the silky, self-satisfied tones gone from his voice now. “Can’t you see, Oberjarl, he’s trying to trick you? He has something in mind. The girl must die and she must die now! Otherwise your sworn word is worthless!” Slagor’s anger and his long-held desire for revenge on Evanlyn for the events that had occurred on Skorghijl had caused him to go too far. Ragnak turned on him now, a flame of anger burning in his eyes.

  “Slagor, I would advise you to get rid of this reckless habit of telling your peers that they are liars,” he said, and instantly the wolfship captain retracted his accusation.

  “Of course, Oberjarl. I didn’t mean—”

  Ragnak cut him off.

  “My first concern is for the safety of Skandia. With these Temujai on our doorstep, Erak and I cannot afford to be fighting. If he’ll agree to postpone our differences until after we’ve settled with them, then I will too.”

  Erak nodded agreement instantly. “It sounds like a good compromise to me.”

  There was still one thread of suspicion in Ragnak’s mind. He turned back to Halt, his heavy brows knitted together in a frown.

  “I can’t help wondering what’s in it for you, Ranger. All you’ve done is win a postponement.”

  Halt inclined his head slightly to one side as he considered the matter. “True,” he replied. “But a lot can happen in the next few days. You might be killed in the battle. Or Erak. Or me. Or all three of us. Besides that, my immediate priority is the same as yours: to see these Temujai driven back. After all, if they win here, it won’t be long before they’re invading Araluen as well. I have a sworn duty to try to prevent that.” He smiled grimly. “That’s another of those vows that we all seem to rush around taking. Damned nuisances, aren’t they?”

  Ragnak turned and stepped back up on the dais to his massive council chair.

  “We’re agreed then,” he said. “We’ll settle the Temujai question first. Then we’ll come back to this problem.”

  Erak and Halt exchanged glances, then both men nodded. Only Slagor seemed to be in disagreement with the compromise. He muttered a curse under his breath. Halt took Evanlyn’s arm and began to guide her from the Great Hall, followed by the two apprentices and Erak. They hadn’t gone half a dozen paces when Halt turned back to Ragnak.

  “Of course, there is one more question that I’d like to hear Slagor answer,” he said. As he hoped, at the mention of his name, everyone in the room involuntarily glanced at Slagor. Then, when all eyes were on him, Halt continued.

  “Perhaps he could tell us what his ships are doing at Fallkork Island?”

  29

  EVERYONE SAW SLAGOR’S GUILTY START OF SURPRISE WHEN Halt mentioned the name of the island. Slagor recovered quickly, but the moment had been there and it had been witnessed.

  “I’m not here to answer to you, Ranger!” he blustered angrily. “You have no authority in this council!”

  Erak stepped forward, rocking on his heels, his face only centimeters from Slagor’s. “But I have,” he told the other man. “And I’d like to hear your answer.”

  “What’s this about, Erak?” Ragnak interrupted before Slagor could reply. Erak kept his gaze fixed on Slagor.

  “Two of Slagor’s ships are currently at Fallkork Island,” he replied. “In another day, he plans to rendezvous with them and sail down the coast to Sand Creek Bay.”

  Erak saw the color draining from Slagor’s face as he realized that his plans had been discovered. He continued inexorably, his voice rising in volume as Slagor attempted to speak, drowning the other man out. “There, he plans to embark one hundred and fifty Temujai warriors and land them behind our lines to attack us from the rear.”

  The room erupted as people began to shout all at once. In vain, Slagor spat abuse at Erak and protested his innocence. His followers in the hall, and there were more than a few, roared their protests, while those who favored Erak roared back, calling for Slagor’s head. The bedlam continued for a full minute until Ragnak rose from his seat.

  “Silence!” he bellowed.

  In the ensuing quiet, you could almost hear a pin drop.

  “How do you know this?” the Oberjarl asked. He disliked Slagor. Many of the Skandians did. But the concept of such treachery was so absolutely abhorrent to the simple Skandian code of conduct that Ragnak found it impossible to believe it of anyone, even Slagor.

  “His plans were overheard, Ragnak,” Erak told him.

  Instantly Slagor was screaming his innocence. “This is lies! It’s a pack of filthy lies! Who heard me? Who claims I’m a traitor? Let them face me now!”

  “As a matter of fact, Ragnak,” said Halt, raising his voice so that he was heard clearly in every corner of the room, “the informant is here with us.”

  That piece of news stilled Slagor’s protests immediately. Ragnak eyed the Ranger with distaste. Since he had arrived in Hallasholm, the comfortable, established order of things had been continually disturbed.

  “Then let’s hear from him,” the Oberjarl said.

  “Not him, Ragnak. Her. The informant is Evanlyn. Perhaps that’s why Slagor is so keen to have her discredited and killed.”

  Uproar once again filled the room and Will realized how cleverly Halt had played this hand. In the confusion of the moment, nobody asked the obvious question: how could Slagor have known that Evanlyn had discovered his plan? For if he didn’t know, he would have no reason to try to discredit the girl. But now that Halt had planted the seed, the Skandians would all half believe that Slagor’s actions were intended to forestall Evanlyn, rather than the other way around. In that light, her accusation could not be dismissed out of hand. It had to be investigated.

  “Proof!” Slagor was shouting now, and some of his followers, realizing their own necks were close to the heads-man’s ax, were shouting it too. “Anyone can accuse me! But where’s the proof?”

  Ragnak silenced the shouting with a gesture. “Well, Ranger,” he asked Halt, “can you offer us proof of these accusations?”

  Erak hurriedly stepped into the breach
, before Halt had to answer. “Svengal is bringing in the two ships from Fallkork,” he said. “He should be in port by tomorrow.”

  But now Slagor saw the way out, saw there was no concrete evidence of the plan. “So two of my ships are waiting at Fallkork?” he cried, his voice shrill once more. “What does that prove? How does that make me a traitor? It doesn’t, does it, Erak?”

  A few of those in the hall started to echo the thought—and not just his own followers. As Halt had pointed out earlier, the mere presence of the ships at the rendezvous was no proof of Slagor’s treachery. Emboldened now, Slagor stepped toward the crowd, addressing them and not the Oberjarl.

  “They accuse me of treachery! They slander me! They take the word of an enemy of this country, the sworn enemy of our Oberjarl! Yet they can show no way to prove their vile claims! Is this Skandian justice? Let them find a way to prove it, I say.”

  A growing chorus of voices agreed with him. Then, as if he were conducting a choir, Slagor signaled for silence and turned back to Halt.

  “Can you, Ranger?” he said, spitting the last word out as if it were an insult. “Can you show some kind of proof?”

  Halt hesitated, knowing they’d lost the momentum and the sentiment of the crowd. Knowing they’d lost. Then Will pushed forward to stand beside his mentor and friend.

  “There is a way,” he said.

  It took a lot to silence a noisy crowd of Skandians, but Will’s statement managed to do the trick. The voices died away as if cut by a knife and all eyes turned to the small figure, standing now between Halt and Erak. As Will might have guessed, it was Ragnak himself who broke the silence.

  “How?” he said simply.

  “Well, Slagor’s ships at this island, taken on their own, may be no proof of his intention to sell out to the Temujai,” Will said carefully, thinking through his words before he spoke them aloud, knowing that all their safety hung by a hairsbreadth on the way he expressed his idea. He saw Ragnak draw breath to speak and hurried on before the Oberjarl could interrupt him. “But…if Erak took Wolfwind to this Sand Creek Bay, and if they happened to find, say, a hundred and fifty Temujai warriors waiting there to embark, it’s a fair indication that someone is planning to betray you, isn’t it?”

  There was a murmur of agreement among the assembled crowd. Ragnak frowned as he thought through the idea. Beside Will, Erak muttered: “Good thinking, boy.”

  “That’s true,” Ragnak said finally. “It shows there’s treachery been planned. But who’s to say Slagor’s involved?”

  Will chewed his lip as he thought over that one. But now Halt spoke up.

  “Oberjarl, there’s a simple way to find out. Let Erak take not one ship, but three. After all, that’s the number the Temujai are expecting to see. Then he can speak with the leader of any Temujai who might happen to be there and tell them that Slagor has been detained and has sent him in his place. If the Temujai leader responds with words along the lines of ‘Who the devil is Slagor?,’ then our friend here is as innocent as he claims to be.” He paused and saw that Ragnak was nodding as he considered the idea. Then he added, more deliberately, “On the other hand…if the name Slagor seems familiar to the enemy, then there is all the proof you need.”

  “This is ridiculous!” Slagor burst out. “I swear to you, Oberjarl, that I am no traitor to Skandia! This is a plot cooked up by these Araluens.” He gestured contemptuously at Halt and Will. “And somehow they seem to have tricked Erak into believing it.”

  “If you’re innocent,” Ragnak said heavily, “then you have nothing to fear from all this, do you?” He was gazing steadily at Slagor now, noting the sheen of perspiration on the other man’s forehead, noting the shrill tone that pervaded all his statements now. Slagor was scared, he thought. The more he saw that, the more he was prepared to believe that the man was a traitor.

  “I don’t see any reason why—” Slagor began, but Ragnak cut him off with a gesture.

  “I do!” he snapped. “Erak, take three ships to Sand Creek Bay immediately and do as the Ranger suggests. Once you’ve established whether or not Slagor is involved in this plot, get back here and report. As for you…” He turned to Slagor, who was beginning to edge toward the side door of the room. “Don’t try to go anywhere. I want you where I can see you until Erak returns. Ulfak, see to it!” He addressed this last comment to one of his other senior jarls, who nodded and moved to stand beside Slagor, laying a hand on his arm.

  “One thing, Oberjarl,” Erak said, and the Skandian leader turned to him again. “Once I’ve established that Slagor is involved, is it all right if we reduce the Temujai numbers a little? That’ll be a few less we have to fight here, at least.”

  “Good idea,” Ragnak said. “But don’t take any risks. I need to know the traitor’s identity and you can’t tell me that if the Temujai kill you.”

  “Why not go ahead with the plan they’re expecting?” Will said, before he could stop himself. The Skandian leader regarded him as if he were mad.

  “Are you out of your mind?” he said. “Are you suggesting that Erak actually brings the Temujai back here as prisoners? We’d have to subdue them and guard them and that would take men away from our own battle line.”

  “Not back here,” Will said, turning to appeal to Erak. “But couldn’t you find some pretext to make them get off the ships at this Fallkork Island—then just leave them there?”

  Again a silence, broken this time by a deep, throaty chuckle from Erak. “Oh, what a prize idea!” he said, grinning fondly at Will. “If we take these…horsemen…through the Vulture Narrows, I’m sure we can have them begging to get ashore for a few hours. The seas there are terrible at this time of year—guaranteed to make any inexperienced sailors seasick!”

  Ragnak rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I take it these Temujai are unused to sailing?” he asked Halt.

  The Ranger nodded. “Totally, Oberjarl.”

  Ragnak looked from Halt to his young apprentice. “This boy of yours shows a certain talent for the sort of devious thinking we expect from you Rangers.”

  Halt dropped one hand lightly on Will’s shoulder, and said, with a completely straight face, “We’re very proud of him, Oberjarl. We think he’ll go far.”

  Ragnak shook his head wearily. This sort of plot and counterplot was beyond him. He waved one dismissing hand at Erak.

  “Get your ships ready and go,” he said. “Then dump these Temujai on Fallkork Island and get back here.” The matter was done as far as he was concerned, but Slagor had one last, desperate objection.

  “Oberjarl! These are the people who accuse me! They’re all in it together! You can’t send them to verify their own charges!”

  Ragnak hesitated. “Fair point.” He turned to his hilfmann. “Borsa, you go with them as an independent witness.” Then, returning his gaze to Slagor, he concluded, “As for you, you’d better hope there are no Temujai at Sand Creek Bay.”

  30

  ERAK LOOKED AT THE FIGURE STANDING BESIDE HIM IN THE stern of the wolfship and, for the hundredth time, was unable to prevent a broad grin from breaking out across his face.

  Halt noticed the look, and the grin, and said in a sour tone, “It must lose its fascination after a while, surely?”

  The jarl shook his head, his grin broadening. “Not for me,” he replied cheerfully. “Every time, it’s just as fresh as the first.”

  “I’m so glad that Skandians have such a lively sense of humor,” the Ranger said, scowling. It didn’t serve his ill temper any better to see that several of the other Skandians were grinning as well. In truth, he was a comical figure. He had forsaken his Ranger’s cloak and garb and was dressed in Skandian clothing—sheepskin vest, a short fur cloak and woolen breeches, wound around with leather bindings from the knees down. At least they should have been wound from the knees down. In fact, since Halt was considerably smaller in stature than any of the adult Skandians, the leggings were bound from his thighs down, the breeches sagged alarmingly at the crutc
h and the sheepskin vest hung loosely on him, seemingly with room for another person of his own size inside.

  “It’s your own fault,” Erak replied. “For deciding to try to disguise yourself as one of us.”

  “I told you,” Halt muttered. “The Temujai got a good look at me when they were chasing us near the border—and even without that, they have no reason to love anyone dressed as a Ranger.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Erak said, still grinning. He bent to the sighting ring before him, checked the position of the floating lodestone and adjusted the sight ring to conform with it. Then he read off the bearing to the next headland.

  “A little east to east of south,” he said to himself, then, raising his voice, he called to his men: “Look alive now! Sand Creek Bay lies beyond that next headland!”

  There was an expectant shuffle on the decks of the wolfship as the Skandians made sure their weapons were close to hand—although not obviously so. At a nod from Erak, the masthead lookout relayed the message to the other two wolfships sailing in close company with them. Very obviously making an effort not to grin, the wolfship skipper nudged Halt in the ribs with a not too gentle elbow.

  “You’d better put on your helmet,” he told the Ranger, whose countenance darkened even further than before as he reached for the huge horned helmet that every Skandian warrior wore.

  This had been the most contentious piece of equipment. Erak had maintained that no Skandian would ever appear in public without a helmet, and that there was no question of Halt’s not wearing one. Yet the sizes were immense compared to what Halt considered to be his own perfectly normal head size. Even the very smallest helmet that Erak could find wobbled loosely on Halt, and came down over his ears and eyes. By dint of much padding with cloths, they had finally managed to get the helmet to sit more or less firmly on his head. But it still gaped amazingly all around.