02 The Invaders Read Free Page A

fifty meters before they saw a plump rabbit, nibbling at the moss on the base of a fallen log on the far side of a large clearing.
    Jesper put his hand on Hal’s arm and pointed. Carefully, Hal unslung his crossbow. Putting his foot in the stirrup, he drew the heavy cord back with both hands until the retaining latch clicked into place.
    The rabbit looked up warily at the sound and both boys froze. The fat little animal’s nose quivered as it tested the air, and its long ears swiveled back and forth, searching for any further foreign sound. By sheer chance, they had come upon it from a downwinddirection. They waited, holding their breaths, until the animal satisfied itself that it was safe to continue grazing.
    Hal slowly raised the crossbow to his shoulder. He flipped up the rear sight. They were less than twenty meters from the rabbit, so it would be a flat shot, with no elevation necessary. He set the bottom mark on the sight against the foresight pin, let out his breath, took in half a breath and held it.
    Then squeezed the release.
    There was the usual ugly
crack
as the bow’s limbs snapped forward and the bolt streaked away across the clearing.
    “I got him!” Hal said triumphantly. He dashed across the clearing, Jesper following a little more slowly.
    “You certainly did,” Jesper said dryly as he caught up with the triumphant shooter. “The question is, where is he?”
    The heavy, iron-tipped crossbow bolt, designed to penetrate chain mail, had totally demolished the rabbit. The crossbow might be a useful weapon in a battle. But for hunting small game, it was sadly deficient.
    “Maybe we should build some snares,” Jesper said.

chapter two
     
    J esper and Stefan were arguing. Again. The weather was miserable, with the wind blowing constantly and regular showers of rain slanting in from the sea. There had even been occasional flurries of snow. As a result, the crew tended to
stay inside their tent, lying on their bedrolls and staring at the canvas ceiling above them. It was inevitable that arguments would break out—simply as a way of passing the time. The twins, Ulf and Wulf, bickered as a matter of course, but now the malaise had spread to the others—and Jesper and Stefan seemed to find plenty of reasons to disagree.
    Thorn and Stig could hear their raised voices as they trudged into the camp, back from a patrol of the woods behind the beach. As an old warrior, Thorn was never comfortable with his back to the sea and the ship beached unless he knew there was no potential enemy nearby. He looked around, searching for Hal. But he and Ingvar were busy in the tent workshop he had set up some distance away. They were building something, Thorn knew. But he had no idea what it was.
    “I know you took it!” Stefan was saying. “Why don’t you just admit it and give it back?”
    “Oh, you know, do you? And how do you know that?” Jesper’s voice challenged him.
    “Because everyone knows you’re a th—” Stefan stopped himself just in time.
    “A ‘th…’?” Jesper said, his voice even more furious. “What do you mean, a ‘th…’? Were you perhaps going to say
thief
?”
    “I didn’t say that,” Stefan said, now sullen and wary.
    “Oh, for Gorlog’s sake!” Stig muttered. He pushed the canvas screen aside and stepped into the tent.
    Ulf, Wulf and Edvin were lying on their bedrolls. Stefan and Jesper faced each other in the center of the tent. Both were red faced and angry.
    “Will you two shut it?” Stig said wearily. “You’ve been picking away at each other for days. What is it now?”
    “Jesper stole my whetstone!” Stefan said.
    Instantly, Jesper shot back. “You say!”
    “Yes, I do! I know you took it. You… take things. Everyone knows that.”
    Too late, Stig realized that he hadn’t stopped the argument. He’d merely taken it back to its starting point. “Look, let it—”
    “Maybe I do take things sometimes,” Jesper shouted over him, leaning closer to Stefan.