Brotherband 4: Slaves of Socorro Read Free Page A

addition, he was popular throughout Hallasholm. His crew had come third in the competition, but that hadn’t prevented the Wolves being chosen to join one of the leading wolfship crews in the port – and Rollond had been appointed as second in command.
    Trouble was, Rollond had a massive crush on Lydia. She had been pleasant to him at first, because he was a nice person – and an attractive one. But she didn’t reciprocate the depth of his feelings for her.
    He was constantly asking her out: a picnic, or a fishing expedition, even a hunting trip from time to time. Occasionally she agreed. More often, she cried off. But it was getting harder and harder to find believable excuses, and she certainly didn’t want to hurt Rollond’s feelings. After all, he was a very likeable person.
    It was just that she didn’t want to like him too much. Casual friends? Fine. Anything more than that, and she felt constricted, confined.
    Lydia was a free spirit, and something of a loner. She had spent her early years largely by herself, hunting, tracking and wandering in the dense forest that crowned the cliffs above her hometown. As a relative newcomer to Hallasholm, she resisted the concept of being known as ‘Rollond’s girlfriend’, as she knew she would be. She didn’t want to be defined in terms of some other person. She was still trying to establish her own identity in her new home.
    Of course, she was known as a member of the Heron ’s crew and that had gained her a certain level of respect. She still enjoyed the company and camaraderie of the Heron Brotherband. They made her welcome whenever she joined them – at festivals or feasts or other social occasions. And she knew that to them, at least, she wasn’t an outsider, but a tried and proven member of their brotherband. She still wore her knitted watch cap, emblazoned with a white heron symbol, with pride.
    But since the Heron had returned from her triumphant voyage to Raguza, Lydia had little to do on board. After a long winter lay-up, the crew had been engaged in short cruises in local waters, keeping a protective eye on the Skandian trading fleet. Since Lydia was part of the fighting crew rather than the sailing crew, using her deadly accurate atlatl darts to bring down enemy crewmen, the day-to-day task of escorting the trading fleet left her sitting idle in the stern of the little ship. Stefan and Jesper looked after the raising and lowering of the tapered yards. Ulf and Wulf seemed to have mastered the intricacies of sail trimming, working together, with that instinctive sense of oneness that twins so often share, to produce the most efficient sail shape, wringing every possible knot of speed out of the ship.
    She supposed she could learn to steer. But with Hal, Stig, Edvin and even Thorn more than capable of doing that, the Heron was well served with helmsmen.
    Even big, short-sighted Ingvar had his position on board. His immense strength was put to use helping Jesper and Stefan. And of course, he was the only one who could cock and load the massive crossbow they called the Mangler.
    ‘I need a long cruise,’ she said. If they were sent on another mission, like the hunt for Zavac and his black ship, the Raven , she knew she’d find plenty to do. For a start, the mere fact that they would be a long way from Skandian home waters raised the odds of encountering hostile ships. Also, her hunting skills would be put to good effect as she could provide food for the crew. And a long cruise would solve the problem of having to continually avoid Rollond.
    For now, she’d have to resort to hunting expeditions like this to keep her distance from him. He’d already inveigled her into agreeing to be his partner at the upcoming haymaking festival. But at least there’d be plenty of other people around – the entire town, as a matter of fact. And Hal, Stig and the other Herons would be on hand as well.
    As she turned these thoughts over, a separate part of her mind was taking