The Caldera by John Flanagan
“And in that time, what happened?”
Olaf sighed. “The Empress’s fourteen-year-old son was kidnapped by corsairs. He’s being held for ransom. I was held responsible.”
“But if you were so sick, how could they blame you?” Stig asked.
Olaf smiled wearily. “I was the palace guard commander. My guards let me down. I let the Empress down.”
“You keep talking about the Empress,” Hal said. “What about the Emperor? Where does he stand on this whole thing?”
“There is no emperor. He died some eight years ago, and his son inherited the title. But the boy was only six years old, so his mother, Justinia, began acting as Regent. As time passed, she decided that she enjoyed the power and prestige and became more like a ruler in her own right, calling herself Empress.”
“And people accepted this?” Thorn asked.
Olaf smiled at him. “She had the palace guard behind her. We’re probably the strongest military force in the city. Of course, there were other factions who didn’t want her as ruler. But they were divided. They couldn’t organize a cohesive resistance to her plans and she took them on, one at a time, and destroyed their power.” He smiled a little whimsically. “The fact is, she’s a good ruler. She’s efficient and intelligent—if somewhat vengeful. In any event, the corsairs, led by a man called Myrgos, kidnapped the boy, Constantus.”
“How did they manage that?” Hal asked.
Olaf shrugged. “It might have been sheer happenstance. Or he might have been betrayed. He’d gone down the coast from Byzantos to a small coastal village. Myrgos and his ship, the Vulture, appeared off the village. The pirates stormed ashore and overwhelmed Constantus’s guards and carried him off. I’d only just gone back on duty and was weak as a kitten. There was nothing I could do. His mother received a ransom demand within the week. Myrgos wants three hundred thousand reels of silver for the boy. And she was given nine months to gather the money and pay up.”
“When was this?” Hal asked quickly.
“Three months ago,” Olaf replied.
“Why did he give her such a long ransom period?” Hannah asked. She had been sitting listening, gradually being drawn into the tale and forgetting, for the moment, her animosity toward Olaf. The thought of that young boy being ripped away from his family and loved ones wrung her heart.
Olaf glanced at her. “Myrgos is a black-hearted, merciless killer. But essentially, he’s a businessman. He knew it would take time for her to gather such a large amount of money in cash, and then transport it to him.”
“And if she doesn’t make the deadline?” Thorn asked. “Will he kill the boy?”
“He may. But it’s more likely he’ll increase the ransom amount. There’s no profit in killing him. Unfortunately, the same doesn’t hold true for me.”
“How do you mean?” Hal asked.
“When the ransom demand was received, the Empress called me before her and told me that I was to blame for the situation. Therefore, it was up to me to remedy it. Either I return the boy to her before she has to pay the ransom, or my life is forfeit.”
“You could always run,” Hal said.
But Olaf shook his head. “No. I’ve had enough of that,” he said. “And there’s nowhere left for me to run to. I’d spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for her assassins. As I said, she’s a very vengeful woman and she has a long reach. Besides, if I manage to rescue Constantus, she’ll pay me a third of the ransom money. That could set me up for life.”
“Then the answer is simple,” Hal said. “Take some of your men, hire a ship and go find the boy. After all, you say this palace guard is a powerful military force. Surely you’d be able to take on a bunch of raggle-tail pirates.” Hal had little respect for the fighting qualities or courage of pirates. As Olaf said, they were concerned mainly with profit. Most of them would fight savagely when they faced a weak or disorganized enemy. But a properly trained military unit should have little trouble dealing with them.
“I’d do that,” Olaf told him, “but she won’t release any of the guard to help me. The political situation in Byzantos is extremely unstable at the moment—and made even more so by this turn of events. She says she needs all her men to keep order. I’m afraid she’s cut me loose. I’m on my own.”
He turned to face Stig, holding the young man’s eyes with his own.
“That’s why I’ve come to you. I need you to help me find these pirates and rescue young Constantus. What do you say, son?”
chaptereight
He says no,” Thorn replied instantly. “You deserted him. You’ve left him to his own devices for years. Now when you’re in trouble, you come running and sniveling to him and asking for help. Well, it doesn’t work that way. I—”
But Stig held up a hand to stop the furious tirade. “Just a moment, Thorn,” he said. When the old sea wolf fell silent, Stig turned to Olaf and gestured toward the door.
“Can you step outside for a moment? I need to talk with my friends.”
“Of course.” Olaf picked up his cloak, pulling the heavy fur around his shoulders.
“Stay clear of the light,” Hal warned him. “If anyone passes by, we don’t want them to recognize you.”
Olaf nodded and, opening the door, stepped out onto the porch. They could hear the floorboards creaking as he moved away from the door and the little oil lamp set above it. After a few seconds, when he felt that Olaf was out of earshot, Thorn rounded on Stig in an angry whisper.
“You can’t seriously be considering this, Stig!” he said. “Why should you give him any help? He has never done anything for you.” He looked at Hal. “You tell him, Hal.”
But Hal shook his head. He thought he could see how Stig was thinking.
“This is for Stig to decide, Thorn,” he said quietly, and Thorn recoiled slightly, surprised by the tolerance in his skirl’s words.
“He’s my father, Thorn,” Stig said. “He’s my father and he needs my help. You’re right, he hasn’t been any part of my life so far. But this might be my chance to make a connection with him. To really become his son.”
“You owe nothing to him, Stig,” his mother said bitterly.
He smiled sadly at her. “I know that, Mam. But what about what I owe to me? This is an opportunity for me to get to know my own father, and to form a relationship with him. You understand that, don’t you, Hal?” he appealed to his best friend.
Hal nodded slowly. “I think I do. I’d give a lot for a chance to get to know my father.”
“You can’t compare Mikkel with Olaf!” Thorn said, outraged.
But Hal raised a hand to calm him down. “I’m not comparing them. I’m saying I understand Stig’s position. Besides, we’re all forgetting that there’s a fourteen-year-old boy who’s been taken from his home and family, and who’s probably terrified that at any moment, he’ll be killed.”
“That is a point,” Hannah agreed.
“What about the Maktig contest?” Thorn asked as the thought occurred to him. “You’re a certainty to win it. But we can’t keep Olaf out of sight for the next two weeks! Someone’s bound to see him and recognize him.”
“Thorn’s right,” Hal said. “If we go, we’ll have to go in the next few days. Time is running out for that boy, after all. You’ll miss the last two events.”
Stig shrugged. He’d already considered this aspect of his decision. “There’ll be other Maktig contests,” he said. “After all, there’s one every year,” he added, trying to smile.
Thorn shook his head in disgust. “I hope Olaf is worth it,” he said.
Stig grasped his shoulder in a firm grip. “So do I, Thorn. But it’s something I have to find out for myself.” He turned to Hal. “So if I say I’ll help him, you’ll agree?”
The skirl nodded. “You’re part of the brotherband. We support each other,” he sa
“Will you give the rest of the crew a say in the matter?” Thorn asked.
“No. I’m the skirl and I decide where we go and what we do. We don’t vote on matters like that,” he pointed out. A ship’s crew wasn’t a democracy. They followed their skirl’s leadership and obeyed his orders. Otherwise a ship could descend into chaos.
“Of course,” Hal continued, “any crewman who has strong feelings about it can always opt out. I assume that’s what you’ll do?”
Thorn took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling above him. If he did refuse to go, it would mean leaving the brotherband. “No,” he said. “I’m part of the Heron brotherband. I go where my brothers go—even when they’re being foolish,” he added with a sad grin.
Hal smiled at him and reached out to cover his left hand with his own. “Thanks, Thorn,” he said.
Stig looked from one to the other. “So we’ll help him?” he asked, a note of hope in his voice.
“We’ll help him. And we’ll get this boy away from the pirates,” Hal said. “Better call him in and tell him.”
Stig moved to the door, opened it and called his father in. Olaf had been waiting at the end of small porch. He reentered the room, stooping under the low doorframe, and looked at the four faces awaiting him. He stood silently, refusing to beg or plead any further. Finally, Hal gestured for Stig to speak.
“We’ll help you,” Stig said, and Olaf’s shoulders, which he had been holding tensed, subsided in relief.
“Thank you,” Olaf said simply. He looked at his wife. “Thank you, Hannah.”
She shook her head. “It’s Stig’s choice, not mine.”
He nodded, understanding. After all, he thought, she had every reason to resent him. “Fair enough,” he said. “But thank you anyway.”
“All right,” Hal said briskly. “We’d better start making plans.” He gestured for the others to sit round the table, glancing hopefully at the coffeepot on the stove. “Hannah, is there any more coffee?”
She nodded and fetched the pot, setting out another mug for Olaf. She refilled their cups and he took a deep sip of his, reacting with surprise. Coffee hadn’t been a popular drink in Hallasholm when he was last here.
“This is excellent,” he said. “We drink this in Byzantos.”
“So it can’t be too barbarous a place,” Hal replied. Then, changing the subject, he continued. “Right, we haven’t any time to waste. Three months of the deadline have gone already. We’re going to have to leave here within the next day or two.” He looked at Stig. “Is the ship ready for sea?”
The first mate nodded. He’d checked on progress at the beach earlier in the evening. “The repainting is finished and the stores have been loaded aboard. Edvin may need to top up on fresh water, and fresh fruit and vegetables, but we can do that tomorrow.”
“Or we can replenish down the coast,” Hal said. “I want to get clear of Hallasholm as soon as possible. Tomorrow night will be ideal.”
Thorn scratched his beard thoughtfully. “You’re thinking about the guild?”
“That’s right. They already have a set against me. If they find out we’re harboring, and assisting, a wanted criminal, they’re sure to make things ugly for us.”
“Why would they do that?” Olaf asked, but Hal brushed the question aside.
“I’ve had a little run-in with them and they’re looking for any way they can find to bring me down. But as long as you stay out of sight, there’s no problem.” He looked at Hannah. “Can he stay here for tonight, Hannah?”
She nodded assent. “I suppose so.”
Olaf essayed a smile in her direction. “Be like old times,” he said, but there was no answering smile. She regarded him, stony faced.
“No, it won’t,” she said. “You’ll sleep out in the boiler-house.”
Hannah supported herself by taking in laundry from other households in Hallasholm. The boiler-house was a large structure built in the vacant space behind the house. It contained two big wood-fired boilers in which she did the laundry—and a supply of firewood to feed them.
“You can keep one of the boiler fires burning,” she said. “That should keep you warm.”
“Sounds cozy,” he said. He continued to smile, although his attempt to ingratiate himself with her wasn’t having a lot of success.
She grunted. She didn’t mention the fact that the floor consisted of hard flagstones. He could find that out for himself. She regarded the fur cloak he was wearing. That should provide enough softness for him, she thought.
“Stay in there,” Hal admonished him. “I don’t want you wandering around outside. There are still a lot of people in Hallasholm who remember you and might recognize you—particularly if they see you here, in this house.”
Again, Olaf remarked to himself on the authority in the young man’s voice and the confidence with which he issued orders. He might be young, he thought, but he was definitely a skirl, who was used to issuing orders and having them obeyed. He nodded meekly. He needed Hal’s cooperation.
“I’ll stay out of sight,” he said. “It’s only one day, after all.”
“Hannah, are you happy to give him meals?” Hal asked, and she nodded.
“It’ll be nothing fancy,” she warned.
Olaf nodded toward the cupboard where she had put away the remains of the pie. “I’d be happy with leftovers,” he told her.
She snorted derisively. “Well, don’t get your heart set on them. Bread and cheese will be what you’re getting.”
“Are we going to tell Erak what we’re doing?” Stig asked. Hal and his crew had a special relationship with the Oberjarl.
Hal considered the idea for a few seconds, then shook his head. “Better not,” he decided. “Erak would feel duty bound to throw Olaf in the cells and bring him to trial. It would be awkward for him if he were seen to be helping us.”
“He’s not around anyway,” Thorn told them. “He’s taken Wolfwind down the coast to Baskenholm. Sigurd Breathblaster has been lax with his tax payments and Erak thought he’d remind him of his civic obligations.”
That was a common enough occurrence among the jarls of Skandia. They felt obliged to minimize the tax they paid to the Oberjarl. Erak, on the other hand, liked to remind them forcibly about such matters. Previous Oberjarls would have sent someone to collect the money. Erak liked to keep his hand in as a helmsman, and from time to time he’d take his ship and crew and, arriving at first light, would burst into the recalcitrant’s lodge, bellowing and threatening.
“That’s probably all to the good,” Hal said. “I’ll leave him a written message with my mam.”
“You’ll tell her, of course,” Hannah said.
“Yes. She deserves to know. And she’ll keep quiet until we’re well away.” Hal looked around the room, deciding that their business for the night was finished. “Right, Thorn and I will head for home. You get some sleep. And remember, stay out of sight. We’ll go aboard Heron around the tenth hour tomorrow night. The tide will be turning then, so we’ll ride it out.”
Like any good skirl, he was always aware of the state of the tide. He and Thorn said their good-byes and headed out. Hannah, Stig and Olaf listened as the sound of their boots on the shingle path faded away. Then Hannah looked meaningfully at her former husband.
“Stig will show you the boiler-house,” she said. As the two of them headed for the door, she relented on her earlier decision and dragged a large cushion off the settle along the wall and passed it to Olaf.
“You’d better take this,” she said. “Those flagstones can get hard after a while.”
chapternine
The following morning, Hal called the crew together to brief them on the upcoming voyage. They gathered on the ship, which had now been launched and moored in its usual place beside the harbor mole.
Kloof, who had spent
“I sometimes think that dog sleeps twenty-six hours a day,” Jesper said, eyeing her with some envy. She did seem to know how to enjoy sleeping, he thought.
The crew were seated close by the steering platform. Hal mounted this so he could address them.
“We’ve got a mission,” he said, and they all exchanged glances. There were a few muttered sounds of satisfaction. The Herons were young and adventurous, and it went against the grain to stay idle in port for too long.
“Is this for Erak?” Ingvar asked, glancing forward to the empty berth where Erak’s ship was usually moored.
Hal shook his head. “This is a private matter,” he said. “I’ll tell you more when we’re at sea. But I don’t want people to know we’re leaving, so we’ll head out tonight, after dark. Don’t talk about it in the marketplace or in any of the taverns. Of course, you can tell your close family, but ask them to keep quiet until we’ve gone.”
The circle of faces were intent on him now, fascinated to know what their mission would be. They all nodded as he cautioned them on the need for secrecy.
Hal looked to Edvin. “How are we placed for supplies?”
Edvin frowned as he took mental stock of what was aboard and what would be needed.
“We’ve got plenty of dried and salted food,” he said. “But I usually wait till just before we leave to buy fresh food—bread and vegetables and meat. Should I do that today?”
Hal shook his head. “Not if that’s what you normally do,” he said. “It will alert people to the fact that we’re leaving. We’ll get those things in Aspenholm.”
Edvin nodded. Aspenholm was a small fishing port a day’s sail away. There was a market there where he could buy everything they needed. And word wouldn’t filter back to Hallasholm for several days.