Return of the Temujai Read online

  “I was thinking,” Hal said slowly, “maybe we could set up a couple of manglers on the sides of the cliffs—here and here.” He pointed to the cliff walls behind the fort and either side of the fort. “That’d give the Temujai riders a nasty shock if they attacked.”

  “Manglers?” Erak said. “You mean like that giant crossbow you carry on the bow of your ship?”

  Hal nodded. “We could build shooting platforms halfway up the walls. Then we could sweep the approaches to the fort before the Temujai got in range.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Erak said, reflecting that this was why he had chosen Hal for the task. The young man had an ability to come up with new and unexpected ideas like this, and Erak could see how two of those massive crossbows could make a powerful addition to the fort’s defenses.

  “I’ll get onto it straightaway,” Hal said, stepping back from the map. “I’ll build them here, then break them down for transport, and reassemble them once we have the platforms ready. I’ll need to take lumber to build those as well.”

  Erak shrugged. “Plenty of trees up there.”

  But Hal shook his head. “It’ll take us time to cut and saw them into posts and planks. Better if we take whatever we need. We should be able to get a couple of horse-drawn carts up through the pass. And we don’t want to give the Temujai too much notice that we’re strengthening the defenses. If they are planning an attack, they might decide to go early.”

  “That’s true. Do it that way. And while I think of it, you might get that girl of yours to scout across the border and see if the Temujai have any troops gathering there.”

  They both knew that Lydia, the only female member of the Heron brotherband, was an expert scout. She could cross the border and infiltrate Temujai land without being seen or heard by the enemy. Hal had no qualms about agreeing to the suggestion.

  “She’d rather do that than help build the platforms,” he said, and left the lodge to start gathering tools and equipment.

  * * *

  • • • • •

  “So, what do you think?” Stig asked. “Are the Temujai really getting ready to invade again?”

  The Temujai were a warlike, nomadic race from beyond the mountains east of Skandia. They were committed to a path of conquest and domination and had long cast jealous, hostile eyes toward the wealthy countries of the west—Gallica, Teutlandt and even Araluen. But before they could spread their influence so far, they would need to conquer Skandia and gain control of its ships. Some years previously, they had launched an all-out attack on the Skandians, breaking through the mountain pass and down onto the narrow coastal plain around Hallasholm. The Skandians, with the help of a small Araluen force of hastily trained archers, had repelled them. In more recent times, the Temujai had turned their attention elsewhere, conquering and plundering the lands to the east. But they constantly returned to the Skandian border, the site of their only defeat, testing the strength of the defenses at Serpent Pass, the scene of their previous incursion.

  They were a cruel and pitiless enemy, small, hardy warriors who were skilled riders and expert archers, shooting from horseback with their short, curved bows. Their army was highly mobile and their generals were skillful and cunning. All in all, they were a formidable enemy.

  The presence of the Temujai, and their longstanding threat to the welfare of Skandia and its people, was a fact of life to Hal and his companions. Hal’s generation had grown up all too aware of the Temujai and their aggressive stance toward Skandia. It was something to be guarded against and prepared for. They knew that the threat could not be ignored. The Temujai, if they sensed any slackening of the Skandians’ readiness or will to fight, would sweep down from the high country like a malevolent flood. But Hal and his fellow Skandians were well aware of their own ability and battle skills. So long as Serpent Pass was kept secure and Fort Ragnak maintained and garrisoned strongly, the Temujai were a problem that could be dealt with. Constant vigilance was the answer to the threat they posed. Danger would come if the Skandian nation ever slackened that vigilance, or if the Temujai happened to find an alternative, and undefended, route down from the high country to the coastal plains.

  So far, neither had happened. From time to time, the Temujai probed the defenses at Fort Ragnak. When they did, they found the garrison there ready and more than capable of repelling them.

  Thorn had fought the Temujai many years before when they had penetrated down to the coastal strip.

  “They want access to the sea,” he replied to Stig’s question. “They always have. And they want our ships. Their plan is to dominate our part of the world.”

  “Charming people,” Hal commented.

  Thorn shrugged. “War and conquest is what they’re good at,” he said. “It’s their reason for being. Their leaders know that if they’re not conquering new territories, they’ll begin fighting among themselves and the confederation of tribes will eventually be broken up. They’re like a shark that has to keep moving to stay alive. They have to keep moving, fighting and conquering.”

  “Do they seriously think we’ll just let them walk in and use our ships?” Hal asked.

  Thorn shook his head. “I’d say they assume that if they invade us and conquer us, we’ll do as we’re told.” He paused and smiled. “Of course, first they have to invade us and conquer us.”

  “And before they can do that, they have to break through the border up here. Which is a tough nut to crack,” Stig said.

  “And which we plan to make a whole lot tougher,” Hal agreed.

  The three of them fell silent for a few seconds as they considered the task ahead and its importance to the well-being of Skandia and the other nations around them.

  Thorn raised his hook in a warning gesture to Jake, who had once again begun sidling closer to him.

  “Just try it, you shaggy barrel,” he said. “I’ve eaten horsemeat before. Next time, I might just bite back.”

  chapter two

  Jesper eased his hip into a more comfortable position on the pile of sawn planks. Riding on the cart was a not-unpleasant way to travel. The horse’s rhythmic motion and the fact that the cart traveled on two wheels set on either end of a single axle imparted a gentle fore-and-aft rocking motion to their progress—not unlike being on board a ship.

  But of course, on the cart, there was no need to constantly re-trim sails or raise or lower the yardarms as the ship tacked.

  “Do Thorn again,” he said now to Stefan, who was leaning comfortably against the side of the wooden cart.

  Stefan was an expert mimic. In the past, the Herons had made use of this talent several times to mislead or confuse enemies. Once Stefan heard a voice, or even a sound, he could reproduce it almost at will. He had been amusing his companions for the past half hour doing impersonations of people like Erak, Thorn and Hal. No matter how many times Jesper heard him do this, he was still amazed at the accuracy of his shipmate’s impressions. With his eyes shut, he could barely tell the impersonation from the real thing.

  “If anybody else says ‘Let’s get ’em,’ I’ll brain him with my club,” growled Stefan in a near-perfect copy of their battlemaster’s voice.

  Jesper laughed out loud and applauded. “That’s perfect!” he said. “Just like him!”

  Edvin, who was riding on the cart with them, laughed as well. “You’ve got him exactly,” he said.

  Stefan grinned ruefully. “Orlog knows, I’ve heard the old windbag often enough.”

  Jesper motioned for him to repeat the impersonation. “Do him again! Make him throw his weight around and boss us the way he does.” He leaned back and closed his eyes to hear the impersonation, smiling as he did so. It was a fine way to pass the time, he thought to himself.

  “We’ll be stopping soon,” said Thorn’s voice in his ears. “Time for you to get off your lazy backside and gather some firewood.”

  Jesp
er, eyes still closed, laughed out loud. “Perfect!” he said. “Just like him. Old windbag indeed! He never gives me a moment’s rest.”

  Next moment, he felt the impact of a hard, callused hand as it cuffed the back of his head. He jerked forward and opened his eyes, to find himself staring at close range at Thorn’s bearded, frowning face. Opposite him, Edvin and Stefan were shaking their heads in warning. Too late.

  Thorn had heard the laughter from the cart and had parted company with Hal and Stig, dropping back in the small convoy to see what was going on. Stefan, who was facing backward, hadn’t seen him approaching until Thorn was almost upon them. Jesper, of course, had his eyes shut to enjoy the impersonation more fully.

  “Oh, hello, Thorn,” he said, trying for a tone of cheerful innocence. “We were just talking about you.”

  “So I heard,” Thorn told him. He looked at Stefan, frowning. “You know, that sounds nothing like me.”

  “No, of course not,” Stefan replied dutifully.

  Unfortunately, Jesper chose the same moment to blurt out, “It does! It’s just like you!” Then he froze as Thorn’s eyes bored into his. There was a long and rather unpleasant silence.

  Thorn turned to the third rider on the cart to adjudicate. “What do you say, Edvin? Has Stefan got the old windbag right?”

  “Um . . . er . . .” Edvin hesitated, not knowing what the right answer might be. He glanced quickly back and forth between his two companions but there was no help there.

  “Um . . . no, not really, Thorn. No . . . ,” he said uncertainly. “Nothing like you,” he added with more conviction, avoiding the accusing eyes of Stefan and Jesper.

  “But you do agree I’m an old windbag?” Thorn said.

  Edvin jumped as if he were stung. “No! Of course not! I never said that!”

  “You never disputed it either,” Thorn continued, and Edvin had no answer to give him. Thorn glared at the three of them, then shook his head slowly.

  “When we get to the border, you three are going to get all the dirty jobs while we build the platforms,” he told them. Then he strode off, leaving them whispering accusations back and forth.

  “Why didn’t you warn me he was here?” Jesper asked bitterly.

  “I only saw him at the last minute.” Stefan shot an angry look at Edvin. “You must have seen him coming. You were facing that way.”

  But Edvin held up a ball of black wool, knitting needles and a half-finished Heron watch cap.

  “I wasn’t looking,” he protested. “I was working on this watch cap.”

  “You and your blasted knitting!” Stefan told him. “Maybe you should find something more useful to be doing while we’re on the cart.”

  “It’s your cap,” Edvin said coldly. Derogatory comments about his knitting always annoyed him. “Remember? Kloof chewed your old one and you asked me to make you a new one.”

  “Oh . . . ,” said Stefan, more than a little nonplussed. He really couldn’t complain about Edvin’s knitting when he was doing Stefan a favor. Edvin never charged his shipmates for the caps he made them. “Well, in that case, never mind.”

  Thorn, striding away from them to check on the occupants of the second cart, smiled to himself as he overheard their sotto voce disagreement. He saw Lydia watching him as he approached the cart, her head tilted to one side in an unspoken question.

  “Got to keep them on their toes,” he said cheerfully.

  She smiled. “I take it Stefan is impersonating you again?”

  Thorn nodded. “Not that it sounds anything like me at all.” He waited for her to agree, but she continued to smile at him, saying nothing. “Well, it doesn’t!” he insisted with some heat.

  Lydia nodded, the smile replaced by a look that was so sincere he simply knew it couldn’t be genuine. “Of course it doesn’t,” she agreed.

  He decided there was no future pursuing the matter and looked around the cart, where Ingvar, Ulf and Wulf were sprawled. Kloof lay on her side, her shaggy head resting on Lydia’s knee. The dog’s tail thumped the floorboards of the cart once in greeting to Thorn. There was more room in this cart, as it only carried the disassembled components of the two manglers.

  “Everything all right here?” he asked, deciding it was safest to change the subject.

  Lydia nodded and the others grunted assent. “It’s a little too comfortable,” she said. She had an austere nature and she tended to distrust any situation that was too relaxing. “I’d like to get out and stretch my legs for a while.”

  Thorn made an inviting gesture. “Well, go right ahead.”

  But she patted Kloof’s big head. “I don’t want to wake up the dog. She looks so content.”

  Kloof, feeling the touch on her head, arched her back and stretched all four legs out luxuriously, groaning with pleasure as she did so.

  Thorn nodded understanding. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to disturb her.” He glanced up at the sun, which was now visible above the narrow cleft of the pass. “We’ll be stopping for the noon meal anyway in about half an hour,” he said. “Might as well leave her undisturbed until then.”

  He turned and strode back toward the head of the small column. As he passed the first cart, he recomposed his features into a dark scowl and glared warningly at the occupants.

  Not that they were doing anything wrong, but as he had told Lydia, it always paid to keep them on their toes.

  Jesper and Stefan watched him as he passed, waiting till they judged he was out of earshot.

  “I always feel like he knows what I’m thinking,” Jesper said softly.

  “I do,” Thorn called back over his shoulder. Then he lengthened his pace to overtake Stig and Hal where they walked their horses in the lead.

  Several minutes passed, then Jesper, who could rarely keep still for any length of time, nudged Stefan with his elbow.

  “Do some more,” he said.

  But Stefan shook his head. “Are you mad? He’ll hear me. He’s got ears like a hawk.”

  “Does a hawk have ears?” Edvin asked, mildly curious.

  Stefan pursed his lips in annoyance. “Well then, he’s got ears in the back of his head!” he amended, and the other two looked at him, puzzled, until he realized how ridiculous that statement was. “You know what I mean!”

  Jesper decided to change the subject. “You don’t have to do him again. Or anybody for that matter. Do some animals.”

  Stefan considered the request. “Like what?”

  “Remember when we were competing for the Andomal? You did a bear.”

  Stefan smiled at the memory. “That’s right. And Ingvar charged around shaking the bushes so that people thought there really was a bear.”

  “Do that!” Jesper urged.

  Stefan thought for a moment, hunched his head down on his neck and cupped his hands around his mouth. After a few seconds, he produced a very realistic impression of a very angry bear growling a warning.

  The result was startling. The little cart horse, plodding along half awake, suddenly heard the sound of a bear growling, seemingly right behind him. He shied and reared up, breaking the traces and capsizing the cart, sending people and lumber spilling out into the snow. The driver, equally startled, managed to jump clear. Jesper, Stefan and Edvin covered their heads with their arms as beams and planks rained down around them, breaking the ties that secured them and spilling out into the snow in all directions.

  “You idiot!” Edvin said, shoving aside a pile of sawn planks that had landed on top of him and rising to his feet. Startled and more than a little contrite, Stefan picked himself up, rubbing a bruise on his forehead where one of the heavier beams had landed.

  A few seconds later, Edvin’s accusation was echoed by Thorn, who had turned back to survey the scene when he heard the panicked horse whinnying and the crash and clatter of the overturned cart. “Idiot indeed!”
he said. He gestured at the overturned cart and the scattered lumber.

  “You three can pick this lot up and restack it in the cart,” he said. “In the meantime, we’ll be having lunch.”

  “But I had nothing to do with it!” Edvin protested. He quailed as Thorn turned a belligerent eye on him.

  “Then you can cook the lunch,” Thorn ordered.

  chapter three

  They camped that night in the pass and reached the border fort midmorning the next day.

  The walls of the pass narrowed even further as they approached the fort, until they were barely twenty meters apart. The fort was constructed across this narrowest point. The rock walls either side were almost sheer—difficult for a man to climb and impossible for a horse.

  Fort Ragnak was a simple structure. Two wooden walls, four meters high, were built across the pass, twenty-five meters apart. They consisted of massive logs, driven into the ground, and formed two of the walls of the fort. Each one had a heavily reinforced timber gate. The other two walls were formed by the rock faces of the pass itself.

  A raised walkway ran around the interior. From this vantage point, the garrison could hold off attackers trying to scale the walls or breach the gate with a battering ram. A ditch had been dug on the northeastern side, a few meters out, to further discourage such activity. To bring a ram into action against the gate, the ditch would have to be filled in first, exposing the would-be attackers to the archers manning the log walls.

  The gate leading back to Skandian territory was a similar structure. But it was not set directly opposite the northeast gate, as might logically be expected.

  In the event that the first gate was breached, attackers would find themselves facing a blank wall. The second gate was set at the eastern end of the wall and was built so that it blended in with the rest of the structure. This asymmetric design was only a minor point, but it would momentarily confuse attackers, and as they searched for the way out, they would be trapped in a killing ground inside the fort, with no cover from the spears, arrows and rocks that would rain down on them from the walkways.