Robin Hood | Thief of Skandia

Chapter 21 (Traitor)

Song: I Ain't Worried by OneRepublic

Erak looked at the figure standing beside him in the stern of the wolfship and, for the hundredth time, was unable to prevent a broad grin breaking out across his face.

Halt noticed the look, and the grin, and said in a sour tone, 'It must lose its fascination after a while, surely?'

The Jarl shook his head, his grin broadening. 'Not for me,' he replied cheerfully. 'Every time, it's just as fresh as the first.'

'I'm so glad that Skandians have such a lively sense of humour,' the Ranger said, scowling. It didn't serve his ill temper any better to see that several of the other Skandians were grinning as well. In truth, he was a comical figure. He had forsaken his Ranger's cloak and garb and was dressed in Skandian clothing – sheepskin vest, a short fur cloak and woollen breeches, wound round with leather bindings from the knees down. At least, they should have been wound from the knees down. In fact, since Halt was considerably smaller in stature than any of the adult Skandians, the leggings were bound from his thighs down, the breeches sagged alarmingly at the crotch and the sheepskin vest hung loosely on him, seemingly with room for another person of his own size inside.

Robin was also dressed in the traditional male Skadian garb, it was remarkably comfortable and practical. Erak had lended her a spare sheepskin vest and it smelt remarkably like him. She looked good in it to, despite the scar that ran down her face. But Robin Hood wasn't pretty in her looks but in her personality and in the way she stands and moved.

Erak shook himself from his thoughts. 'It's your own fault,' Erak replied. 'For deciding to try to disguise yourself as one of us.'

'I told you,' Halt muttered. 'The Temujai got a good look at Robin and I when they were chasing us near the border – and even without that, they have no reason to love anyone dressed as a Ranger.'

'So I've heard,' Erak said, still grinning.

'I like it.' She said, looking at the vest on her body, 'it is very comfortable. I might not give the vest back.' She told Erak, adjusting the helmet on her head that was only a little to big.

Erak muttered something as he bent to the sighting ring before him, checked the position of the floating lodestone and adjusted the sight ring to conform with it. Then he read off the bearing to the next headland.

'A little east to east of south,' he said to himself, then, raising his voice, he called to his men:

'Look alive now! Sand Creek Bay lies beyond that next headland!'

There was an expectant shuffle on the decks of the wolfship as the Skandians made sure their weapons were close to hand – although not obviously so. At a nod from Erak, the masthead lookout relayed the message to the other two wolfships sailing in close company with them. Very obviously making an effort not to grin, the wolfship skirl nudged Halt in the ribs with a not too gentle elbow.

'You'd better put on your helmet,' he told the Ranger, whose countenance darkened even further than before as he reached for the huge, horned helmet that every Skandian warrior wore.

This had been the most contentious piece of equipment. Erak had maintained that no Skandian would ever appear in public without a helmet, and that there was no question of Halt's not wearing one. Yet the sizes were immense, compared to what Halt considered to be his own perfectly normal head size. Even the very smallest helmet that Erak could find wobbled loosely on Halt, and came down over his ears and eyes. By dint of much padding with cloths, they had finally managed to get the helmet to sit more or less firmly on his head. But it still gaped amazingly all round.