Brotherband 3: The Hunters Read Online Free

done that, we can put to sea again?’ he asked. Edvin’s unhappy expression told him the answer before he spoke.
    ‘He can’t rest properly with the deck pitching and heaving like this. You know how it is, Hal. Your body tenses and prepares for the movement. You brace yourself against the roll when you sense it’s coming. Ingvar needs solid sleep. That’s the best healer for him. And he can’t get it while we’re at sea. In fact, that constant tensing and bracing might well have aggravated the wound in the first place.’
    ‘How long then?’ Hal asked.
    Edvin shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe one night. Maybe two. If he can rest properly and I can keep him cooled down, he should improve. We’ll need to keep bathing him with damp cloths to bring his temperature down.’
    ‘And if we don’t?’ Hal asked.
    ‘If the fever doesn’t break, he could die,’ Edvin said. Lydia looked at him in alarm.
    ‘It’s that bad?’ she said and he nodded.
    Hal looked away, cursing silently. Each time he got close to Zavac, something intervened. Outside Limmat, he had had to choose between going after the pirates and leaving Svengal and the crew of Wolfwind to drown. Now he was faced with another choice, with Ingvar’s life in the balance.
    And there was another, practical consideration, in addition to his concern for his friend. Lydia voiced it.
    ‘You need Ingvar if you’re going to use the Mangler,’ she said quietly.
    ‘I know that.’
    The huge crossbow would be their main weapon in the event of a fight with the Raven . Only Ingvar had the strength necessary to cock and load it. Ulf and Wulf could do it together, of course. But in a sea fight, they would be kept busy adjusting the trim of the sails as the ship manoeuvred. That was the problem. Everyone on the ship had an assigned role and everyone was needed in that role. Particularly Ingvar.
    Once Hal had that thought, it was easier to come to a decision. He rose, and looked at the coastline running past them, shading his eyes with his hand.
    ‘We’d better find a place to go ashore,’ he said.

    They ran on for several kilometres before he found a suitable landing place. The coastline was, for the most part, open beach. And it was swept by the north-east wind that was blowing. If the wind got up any further, they could find themselves in trouble in such an exposed position.
    Eventually, he spotted what he was looking for. The land rose and the long, unbroken beach gave way to rocky, low cliffs. There was a narrow opening that led to a cove. He lowered the sail and proceeded further inshore under oars to inspect it. It turned out to be exactly what they needed. There was a sandy beach on the eastern side of the cove, and the headland would provide shelter from the wind.
    The crew lay resting on the oars for several minutes while he inspected it, looking for broken, swirling water that might indicate rocks hidden just below the surface, studying the action of the waves to make sure there was no concealed reef across the mouth of the cove. Finally, he nodded to himself.
    ‘Stig,’ he called, and his first mate gave the order for the rowers to begin pulling once more.
    Hal steered the little ship into the cove. Stefan had resumed his position by the bowpost, searching the water’s surface for any signs of danger. But there were none and the Heron cruised smoothly to a small strip of sand Hal had marked out.
    ‘In oars,’ he called, when they were less than twenty metres from the sand. The oars clattered in the rowlocks as the crew brought them inboard, then clattered once more as they were stowed along the line of the ship.
    ‘Bring the fin up, Thorn,’ Hal ordered, and Thorn heaved the heavy fin up from its lowered position in the keel box. As he did so, Hal felt the now-familiar drift as the ship lost the steadying lateral force of the keel. Then there was a gentle grating sound as the bow ran up onto the coarse sand, finally canting over slightly to one