ALTDORF (The Forest Knights: Book 1) (32 page)

One-eye cuffed Thomas across the face.

“Stay down there. I do not want any good folk to see me traveling with a dog like you.” The helmsman laughed at this, and Thomas grunted and eased himself up to his knees to face the man.

The helmsman was the only true sailor on the boat.

Thomas raised his hands up over his head and groaned as though injured, then, lowering them until they were level with the helmsman’s face, he traced a slow cross in the air.

One-eye laughed and said, “Looks like you just got blessed by a witch lover. Or maybe he cursed you.”

The man shook his head and swatted Thomas’s hands away.

“Save your prayers for—”

His words were cut short by a hiss, followed by a wet plop, like the sound a smooth, round rock makes when thrown into a pond. A high-powered crossbow bolt had entered one side of his neck and exited the other, leaving no trace of its existence save for a plume of blood spurting from the exit wound.

The helmsman’s eyes rolled up inside his head and he pitched forward. As he fell away from the steerboard, the boat began a lazy arc off course. One-eye stared dumbfounded at the helmsman until another crossbow bolt whistled through the air over his head. He threw himself backward to the floor of the boat and yelled, “Ambush!”

Thomas leaned over the helmsman’s body and fumbled with his bound hands to draw his belt knife. He could hear One-eye shouting at his men as they scrambled over one another in confusion. Two more bolts pounded into the side of the boat near the front. He tried to focus on cutting his ropes with the knife, but the going was awkward with his hands tied. He glanced up to see One-eye glaring at him and drawing his sword. The heavyset man crouched and stepped over the seat separating them. He tried to cut his bonds again but the knife slipped out of his hands and clattered to the bottom of the boat. Thomas realized he was out of time.

He grabbed the dead man’s body and pulled it between himself and One-eye. The soldier hacked at it once with his sword and screamed obscenities at Thomas.

“A corpse will not protect you for long, Schwyzer!”

As he attempted to clamber over the body in the narrow confines of the boat, Thomas grabbed the steerboard handle and pushed hard, keeping his eye on how the sail fluttered and died as the boat came around. He felt the wind move to the other side of his face and he ducked. With a groan of protest the heavy wooden boom holding the bottom of the sail swung from one side of the boat to the other, catching One-eye square in the chest and launching him and one other man out of the boat. Dressed in full chainmail, they screamed and hit the water hard, surfaced once, thrashed silently for a moment, and then disappeared below the surface, their heavy armor dragging them down.

The four men in the front of the boat managed to avoid the boom. One pointed at Thomas and shouted something to the other two. They all drew swords and began moving towards Thomas in a crouch. Thomas looked to the shore and estimated they were over three hundred yards away; far out of crossbow range.

They had been moving steadily towards deeper waters since the helmsman had been killed, and that was why there had been no bolts hitting the side of the boat for some time. There was only one man in a thousand that could have made the shot that took out the helmsman, but Thomas could expect no further assistance from his benefactor on land.

Thomas glanced briefly at the dead helmsman’s sword, still in its scabbard, and then dismissed the idea just as quickly. Four armored men against one in the cramped space of a rocking boat would be a glorious but stupid death. He gritted his teeth and felt the scar on the side of his face tighten.

If he knew Seraina was already dead he would not have hesitated. But so long as there was a chance she yet lived, he would do everything in his power to survive. Yes, he could jump off the boat and swim for the shore. He might survive the cold water, and looking at the awkward swaying of the four soldiers he doubted they had the skill to turn the boat quickly enough and catch him, but he could not take the chance. Besides, Thomas had to get to Seraina quickly.

And for that, he had need of a fast boat.

Thomas stood in the back of the boat, his hands still bound in front, and watched the four armed soldiers close the distance. They would be on him in seconds. The time for planning was over.

He took a deep breath and reached his tied hands down to snatch up the helmsman’s knife resting on the coils of rope at his feet, then raising his arms up high, he drove the blade deep into the helmsman’s wooden seat. He rubbed his bonds up and down once against the sharp blade and his hands snapped apart.

He was free.

He picked up one of the coiled lines, put it over his head and shoulder, and then pulled the steerboard hard to one side, wedging it in place with the helmsman’s body.

The boat began turning across the wind again and the boom began moving across. The soldiers were past the midpoint of the boat now, and when they saw the boom swinging around they ducked beneath it, well aware of how it had knocked their comrades over the side of the boat. Grim-faced, they continued their approach. A few more steps and they would be in sword range.

But Thomas had no intention of waiting. As the boom reached the end of its arc and slammed into place, the boat leaned dangerously. With the rudder locked in place and the sail filling with wind, all she needed was the slightest encouragement and she would go over. Thomas hopped up onto the side of the boat, took a couple of quick, agile steps and jumped out just past the mast as high in the air as he could. As he hurtled by the mast he reached out with one arm to snag the tall pole, letting his body weight tip the boat even further into the direction it was already leaning.

“You fool! You will capsize us,” the nearest soldier shouted. There was a moment when the boat resisted, but the combination of Thomas’s weight and the wind blowing into the sail, proved too much. It swayed, faltered, and then fell over sideways, slowly at first, but soon picked up speed, until the mast and sail slapped the water throwing up a wall of spray and tossing everyone into the cold alpine lake.

The cold water shocked the breath out of Thomas. This was no Mid-Earth sea, and he knew water this temperature could sap the strength out of a man in minutes. He needed to work fast, but at least he was not in as much peril as the armored men around him splashing, fighting for their lives to keep their heads above water. Swimming with thirty pounds of steel and leather dragging one beneath the waves was no easy feat. It was for this very reason that the crew of
The Wyvern
had adopted the use of the Saracen’s lightweight Damascan mail shirts for their own armor.

As the soldiers thrashed and kicked, struggling to remove their heavy armor or swim to the side of the tipped over boat, Thomas fastened one end of his line around the narrow top of the mast. He swam back to the boat and clambered up onto the side sticking high out of the water, and then took up the line’s slack. Gradually, like a man climbing a rock wall, he leaned back and heaved on the rope. With his body parallel to the water, the mast began lifting out of the water, encouraging him to ignore the pain in his shoulder and pull harder. The line dug into his hands, bloodying them, and every muscle in his body felt like it was going to snap off his skeleton, but still the boat would not turn over that last bit to right herself.

“Come on girl,” Thomas said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Do not let us down now.” He could feel himself weakening. He leaned back further, his hair brushing the water, and pulled for all he was worth. The boat shuddered, but refused to flip upright. He did not have the strength, or the weight.

A strong hand grabbed his hair, twisting his neck painfully and dunking his head under the water. He lashed out blindly with one hand and felt it connect with a fleshy nose. The hand released him and as he pulled his head up he caught sight of One-eye reaching an arm out to grab him again.

Somehow, the veteran soldier had managed to remove his chainmail hauberk and boots, and with the frenzied strength of a drowning man, was now clawing his way through the water towards Thomas. Thomas knew he did not have the time, or the will, to fight off the crazed man. But perhaps he could enlist his aid.

Still holding the taut mast rope wrapped around one arm, he leaned back and extended his other arm. One-eye latched on and began dragging himself up Thomas’s limb. Thomas screamed and with all the strength he had left, pulled One-eye as far out of the water as he could while simultaneously heaving on the mast line.

The extra weight lifted the entire length of the mast out of the water. The sail followed, shedding water as it rose, and then the boat popped upright like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Thomas half-rolled, half-collapsed into the boat as she righted herself, but One-eye remained hanging over the side still clutching Thomas’s arm. The boat creaked and rocked from side to side, showering them with lakewater that hid in the folds of its canvas sail. Both men remained motionless breathing hard through their mouths, exhausted.

Finally, Thomas forced himself to his knees and leaned over the edge of the boat. One-eye had both his arms wrapped around Thomas’s arm. His skin was ashen and his lips thick and bluing around the edges.

Thomas hit him hard in the face once, twice, and finally, after a third time, the one-eyed soldier slid off his arm like an over-ripe carcass from a meat hook. He sunk below the water without a sound, his eyes wide in terror.

Thomas collapsed backward into the boat and wrapped his arms around himself. He groaned and tried to rub some feeling back into them. He felt like he had been pulled apart by horses.

Finally, once his chest stopped heaving, and he could feel the blood moving again in his limbs, he poked his head up and surveyed the situation.

He immediately picked out a bearded figure waving on the shore. One Habsburg soldier still clung to the side of the boat. There was no sign of any others.

“Please…help me up,” he said. “I was only following orders. Please…”

Thomas leaned over and undid the chinstrap on the man’s helmet.

“I got nothin’ against you Schwyzers.” The man spoke faster when Thomas did not answer. “Nothin’ against you, or the girl. It was just orders.”

Thomas removed the man’s helmet and threw it into the boat. There was a lot of water in the boat and he would need something to bail with. Then he retrieved one of the two stowed oars.

He stood up and stared down at the man. He clung to the side of the boat with only the tenuous grip of his fingertips.

“No please! I got a family. Like I said, it was just orders.” He was so cold he no longer shivered, but his words flowed slowly, like winter cream.

Thomas shook his head. “Orders you
chose
to follow. You have taken sides, and I can respect that.” Thomas hefted the heavy oar in his hands. “But forgiveness is another matter.”

“God, please…” Thomas cut off the man’s words by bringing the oar down hard on his head.

***

It took only a few moments to set the sail and get the boat moving towards the figure standing on the edge of the lake. Thomas worked the steerboard with one hand and used the soldier’s helmet to bail water from the bottom of the boat. Soon he was tossing the bowline to Ruedi, who deftly secured it around the exposed roots of a crooked pine tree growing too close to the water’s edge.

“This was not exactly what I had in mind when I suggested we go hunting, you and I Cap’n. But I must say, you do flush out interesting game.”

Thomas stepped ashore onto a large flat rock and the two men embraced, and then Thomas wasted no time in quizzing Ruedi on what he knew of Seraina’s whereabouts.

“You saw what happened in Altdorf?”

“Saw enough. I came very close to shooting Gissler through that mutinous heart of his.”

Thomas shook his head. “If you had I would still be in chains on this boat, and you beside me. Did you see where they took her?”

“Aye Cap’n. Gissler threw her into a cage wagon then him and the Duke took the north road out of Altdorf. They will be taking her to Habsburg I imagine.”

Thomas nodded. With the fortress in Altdorf still under construction, the Habsburg castle was the safest place for a member of the royal family. If they reached the castle with Seraina, Thomas knew he would never see her alive again. Leopold and his clerics would try her as a witch and torture a confession from her. And if she survived the tortures, she would be burnt at the stake. He had to get to her before they reached Habsburg.

As though reading his mind, Ruedi said, “We had best be off then. She looks to be a fast boat. If we leave now we may be able to cut them off at the Kussnacht. Be just like old times, eh Cap’n?”

Thomas placed a restraining hand on Ruedi’s shoulder to stop him from climbing into the boat.

“I would like nothing more old friend. But I need this boat as light as possible. She will not make the speed with two of us.”

Ruedi looked at the boat and then back at Thomas with a hurt look in his eyes. But he knew Thomas was right. Gissler and Leopold had too much of a head start. He removed his belt, with its dangling hook on the front for working a crossbow string, and gave it to Thomas. Then held out his crossbow and two bolts.

“These are all I got left. Gissler and Leopold were riding, and there were two soldiers driving the wagon.”

“Thanks, friend. You have come through for me more times than I can count.”

Ruedi’s lower lip trembled just enough to be visible beneath his red moustache and beard.

“Now you listen to me Cap’n. This is the best crossbow I have ever owned. Made by a Genoese master, and I will be expecting it back, so you heed what I tell you. You shoot Gissler with your first bolt. You shoot from behind cover and without him ever seeing you. If you miss your first shot you take him out with the second. Pay no mind to the other three until Gissler is down. You hear me Cap’n?”

Thomas looked into Ruedi’s pleading grey eyes and was overwhelmed with the impression his friend was saying goodbye.