Brotherband 4: Slaves of Socorro by John Flanagan Page A

had mounted the bulwark and was standing next to the bowpost, keeping the small black and white shape in sight as Kloof bobbed up and down in the waves. She held the bowpost lightly for balance with one hand, and pointed the direction for Hal to follow with the other.
    ‘I’ll bring her alongside the starboard rail,’ Hal called to Stig, who moved to the rail and peered ahead. He could see the dog now, still ploughing along determinedly.
    ‘Get ready to grab hold of my legs as we come alongside, Ingvar,’ Stig said. ‘I’m going to have to lean way over to get her.’
    Ingvar nodded and moved to stand just behind him. As they came closer, Hal leaned out as well, measuring the angle and the distance and the speed of the ship. When he judged the moment was right, he yelled.
    ‘Let go the sheets. Down sail!’
    The wind spilled from the sail and Jesper and Stefan worked quickly to bring it down, gathering in the billowing folds and stowing them roughly into the rowing well. Hal’s forward vision was now unrestricted. He saw the dog close ahead, then saw Stig lean over the rail, supported by Ingvar’s powerful grip. He edged the bow to port slightly.
    Thorn, watching from alongside Stig’s inverted form, turned and waved. ‘Hold her at that!’ he said. He shook his head in admiration. As ever, Hal had judged the moment exactly.
    The speed fell off the ship, and Stig grabbed the swimming dog by the scruff of her neck, hauling her in alongside the hull. Kloof looked up at him, surprised.
    A wave broke over Stig, drenching him from head to waist. But he maintained his grip on the dog. Then, as the wave passed, he changed his hold so that he had her under the shoulders.
    ‘Heave away, Ingvar!’ he spluttered, spitting out sea water. Ingvar reared back, hauling Stig and the sodden dog up the side of the hull. As Kloof came free of the water, her dead weight doubled and Ingvar grunted with extra effort. Then he felt Thorn’s arms around him and the two of them hauled Stig and Kloof on board, sprawling in a heap on the foredeck.
    Kloof was first to recover. She bounded to her feet, then crouched. Lydia realised, too late, what was about to happen.
    ‘Look out!’ she called, then Kloof shook herself, hurling sheets of sea water from her thick double coat and thoroughly drenching her rescuers. Ingvar and Thorn yelled curses at the dog. Stig, already soaked to the waist, shrugged philosophically.
    ‘A little water never did a true sailor any harm,’ he told Thorn, who was glaring at the dog.
    ‘I’m beginning to think Erak had the right idea,’ Thorn said grimly.

H al decided they had spent enough time on target practice. They retrieved the target raft and hauled it aboard. Stig was gratified to see a triangular rent in the canvas.
    ‘I hit it,’ he said triumphantly, as he and Thorn stowed the raft in the bow of the ship.
    Hal signalled for Lydia to join him at the tiller as they got under way.
    ‘Sorry you missed your chance for a shot. It was starting to take up more time than I’d allowed – what with having to fetch Kloof on board again,’ he said.
    Lydia shrugged. ‘I’m sure I’ll get another chance.’
    ‘When we get to Araluen, we’ll set up a target onshore and practise on that. That way we won’t be losing all our bolts. After all,’ Hal added with a wry grin, ‘I’m the one who has to make them.’
    ‘Fair point,’ she said. ‘And in any event, Stig would have been unbearable if I’d missed. He’d have bragging rights for the rest of the journey.’
    Hal shook his head. ‘Not really,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘That hole was already in the canvas when we put the raft over the side.’
    An hour later, they sighted a crippled Gallican ship.
    Edvin was on the bowpost lookout. ‘Ship!’ he called, pointing to the south-west.
    At first, Hal saw nothing. But as Heron rose onto the crest of a wave, he saw a dark shape, low in the water. Stefan, who had the keenest eyesight, had