“If you say so. What is it?”
“Do we have to stop bickering when we’re not fighting the
Raven
? I mean, at normal times like this? Do we have to stop bickering now?”
“We’re not bickering now,” his brother pointed out.
“I know that! But we could be, any minute now!” Wulf replied.
“Maybe, but—” Ulf began, but Hal cut him off.
“It would be nice if you didn’t bicker,” he said. “But I suspect that might be a bit too much to ask.”
“I think so,” said Ulf, who Hal had formerly assumed to be Wulf. “We’re kind of… used to it, I suppose.”
“Just wouldn’t seem the same without it,” Wulf agreed.
Hal sighed deeply. “Then you’re exonerated from your promise during normal times. Sorry about that,” he added, casting an apologetic glance in the direction of the other crew members.
“I must say, I’m relieved,” Stig said. “It wouldn’t be the same if they weren’t constantly sniping at each other.”
“Yes, it wouldn’t be the same,” Edvin agreed, “but it would make a pleasant change.” He said it in a mock-weary tone, but there was an underlying sense of good humor and the others chuckled quietly at his words.
Hal looked keenly around the ring of young faces. The expressionswere serious as they all realized that they would eventually be facing a very dangerous enemy and fighting for their lives. But there was no fear there. There was a sense of confidence, and a growing sense of trust in their shipmates.
Thorn coughed expectantly and they looked at him.
“Which is all very well and good,” he said. “But none of it will matter if this monstrous mangler of a machine doesn’t work.” He jerked a thumb at the huge crossbow, crouched on its carriage like a bird of prey with its wings spread. “Do you think you might be able to show us what it can do?”
Hal nodded and moved to stand behind the huge weapon. He crouched and sighted quickly down its length, then glanced up at Ingvar.
“It moved offline after the last shot,” he said. “Get the lever, would you?”
There was a long trimmed branch lying a few meters away. Ingvar moved round the crossbow to fetch it. It was about three centimeters across and two meters long, but he hefted it as easily as if it had been a broomstick. He stepped back to stand beside the crossbow while Hal peered down the length of it.
“Move it a little left,” Hal said.
Ingvar dug the end of the wooden pole into the sand beside the right-hand side of the crossbow’s carriage. Then he heaved slowly against it to swing the weapon to the left.
“A little more,” Hal said, still intent on the line of sight.
Ingvar began to tap the end of the lever with the heel of his right hand—short, sharp blows that moved the crossbow a few centimeters at a time. Finally, Hal raised his arm and Ingvar stopped.
“That’s it,” Hal said. He stood back and turned to the others. “When I have it on a swiveling mount, it’ll be a lot easier to move it from side to side,” he told them. “For the moment, we’re making do with Ingvar’s muscle power.” He smiled at the big boy, who grinned back.
He’s enjoying having a purpose in life, Thorn thought. Then his eyebrows raised in surprise as another thought struck him. Just as I am. Hal was still speaking and the old sea wolf brought his attention back to what he was saying.
“. . . graduated the sights to those targets down the beach this morning. We paced out the distance and set them up at fifty-pace intervals. The nearest is one hundred paces away.”
Now, as the others looked in the direction he was pointing, they could make out a series of five wooden targets set up on poles hammered into the sand. Thorn squinted at the nearest. It was a square shape, made up of thick branches nailed onto a wooden frame. The sides of the frame looked to be about a meter in length.
“I figure the branches will offer about the same resistance as the planks of a ship,” Hal said. He
“Do we have to stop bickering when we’re not fighting the
Raven
? I mean, at normal times like this? Do we have to stop bickering now?”
“We’re not bickering now,” his brother pointed out.
“I know that! But we could be, any minute now!” Wulf replied.
“Maybe, but—” Ulf began, but Hal cut him off.
“It would be nice if you didn’t bicker,” he said. “But I suspect that might be a bit too much to ask.”
“I think so,” said Ulf, who Hal had formerly assumed to be Wulf. “We’re kind of… used to it, I suppose.”
“Just wouldn’t seem the same without it,” Wulf agreed.
Hal sighed deeply. “Then you’re exonerated from your promise during normal times. Sorry about that,” he added, casting an apologetic glance in the direction of the other crew members.
“I must say, I’m relieved,” Stig said. “It wouldn’t be the same if they weren’t constantly sniping at each other.”
“Yes, it wouldn’t be the same,” Edvin agreed, “but it would make a pleasant change.” He said it in a mock-weary tone, but there was an underlying sense of good humor and the others chuckled quietly at his words.
Hal looked keenly around the ring of young faces. The expressionswere serious as they all realized that they would eventually be facing a very dangerous enemy and fighting for their lives. But there was no fear there. There was a sense of confidence, and a growing sense of trust in their shipmates.
Thorn coughed expectantly and they looked at him.
“Which is all very well and good,” he said. “But none of it will matter if this monstrous mangler of a machine doesn’t work.” He jerked a thumb at the huge crossbow, crouched on its carriage like a bird of prey with its wings spread. “Do you think you might be able to show us what it can do?”
Hal nodded and moved to stand behind the huge weapon. He crouched and sighted quickly down its length, then glanced up at Ingvar.
“It moved offline after the last shot,” he said. “Get the lever, would you?”
There was a long trimmed branch lying a few meters away. Ingvar moved round the crossbow to fetch it. It was about three centimeters across and two meters long, but he hefted it as easily as if it had been a broomstick. He stepped back to stand beside the crossbow while Hal peered down the length of it.
“Move it a little left,” Hal said.
Ingvar dug the end of the wooden pole into the sand beside the right-hand side of the crossbow’s carriage. Then he heaved slowly against it to swing the weapon to the left.
“A little more,” Hal said, still intent on the line of sight.
Ingvar began to tap the end of the lever with the heel of his right hand—short, sharp blows that moved the crossbow a few centimeters at a time. Finally, Hal raised his arm and Ingvar stopped.
“That’s it,” Hal said. He stood back and turned to the others. “When I have it on a swiveling mount, it’ll be a lot easier to move it from side to side,” he told them. “For the moment, we’re making do with Ingvar’s muscle power.” He smiled at the big boy, who grinned back.
He’s enjoying having a purpose in life, Thorn thought. Then his eyebrows raised in surprise as another thought struck him. Just as I am. Hal was still speaking and the old sea wolf brought his attention back to what he was saying.
“. . . graduated the sights to those targets down the beach this morning. We paced out the distance and set them up at fifty-pace intervals. The nearest is one hundred paces away.”
Now, as the others looked in the direction he was pointing, they could make out a series of five wooden targets set up on poles hammered into the sand. Thorn squinted at the nearest. It was a square shape, made up of thick branches nailed onto a wooden frame. The sides of the frame looked to be about a meter in length.
“I figure the branches will offer about the same resistance as the planks of a ship,” Hal said. He
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