02 The Invaders Read Free

the weather, although invariably there were chinks that let in the keening wind when it hit full power. But they were young and a few drafts weren’t enough to dampen their spirits.
    Thorn chose to sleep on the boat. With the others quartered in their tent, he had plenty of room to himself. The others respected his desire for privacy. He had spent many years alone and he had become accustomed to keeping his own company. Besides, even though he liked the
Heron
crew, they were teenage boys, with the usual tendencies of that breed to squabble, talk loudly and tell jokes they thought were brand-new, unaware that generations of boys before them had told the very same tales.
    Once their sleeping quarters were organized, Hal, assisted by the ever-helpful Ingvar, built a small shelter to use as a workshop. Then he and Ingvar and Stig went into the forest to select a sapling to replace the broken yardarm. After several hours, Hal found one to his liking and gestured to Stig.
    “Cut it down.”
    Ingvar carried the sapling back to the camp, where they stripped off the bark and left the sapling to dry for a few days, removing the surface sap. Then Hal cut and trimmed it to shape and they attached the port sail. Only then did Hal feel a sense of relief. Beingashore with a half-crippled ship had been preying on his mind, he realized. Now the
Heron
was fully ready for sea in case of any emergency.
    He set up a roster for camp chores, with each boy taking a turn at cooking. This didn’t last long. After successive meals prepared by Stig, Ulf and Wulf, Edvin had put his foot down.
    “I didn’t come on this quest to die of food poisoning,” he said acerbically. “I’ll do the cooking from now on.”
    And since he had already demonstrated some skill in this area, the others were glad to leave the task to him. In turn, Hal relieved him of other camp duties, such as wood and water gathering. After a few days, Edvin sought Hal out with a further request.
    “We’ve got plenty of dried foods and provisions,” he said. “But we could use fresh meat and fish.”
    The bay was teeming with fish, and Stig and Stefan were both keen anglers. They undertook to keep a steady supply of bream and flounder coming. Hal and Jesper went into the woods in search of small game. Once again, Ingvar went along as Hal’s faithful shadow. Unfortunately, he was a good bit noisier than a shadow, blundering through and into the trees, stepping carelessly on deadfalls. So while the two hunters saw plenty of evidence of small game—rabbits, hares and game birds—they saw none of the actual creatures themselves. Eventually, Hal had to put his hand on the huge boy’s arm and stop him.
    “I’m sorry, Ingvar, but you’re making too much noise.”
    “I’m not doing it on purpose,” Ingvar said.
    The young skirl nodded. “I know. But you’re scaring all the game away. I want you to sit here and wait for us, all right?”
    Ingvar was disappointed. Since he had joined Hal’s crew, he had felt a new sense of worth and purpose. In his short life before this, nobody had ever looked to him to contribute, or expected much of him. But as a member of the Heron brotherband, he had participated in their success and their victory over the other teams. Hal had been the first person to expect anything of Ingvar and Ingvar hated to feel that he was letting his skirl down—although, deep down, he knew Hal was right. He was too clumsy and noisy to help with the hunting. But now that all the heavy work of building was finished, he had nothing to do.
    “All right, Hal. If you say so.” He lowered himself to the ground, leaning back against the bole of a tree. Hal saw the disappointment on his face.
    “Ingvar, don’t worry. I’ve got a job in mind for you. And you’ll be the only one who can do it. Just be patient.”
    Leaving Ingvar a little mollified, Hal and Jesper continued farther into the woods. Almost immediately, Ingvar’s absence bore fruit. They hadn’t gone