The Outcasts by John Flanagan

Author:John Flanagan [Flanagan, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781101545393
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2011-11-01T05:00:00+00:00

chapter twenty-one

Erak waited until the door closed behind Thorn. He looked around, saw a wooden chest with a padded top and sat down, motioning for Hal to find a seat for himself among all the clutter. When the boy was seated, on a small stool carved in the shape of an elephant, the Oberjarl regarded him for several long moments.

Hal realized that Erak wasn’t quite sure how to begin. We could sit here in silence until this elephant comes to life, he thought.

“So, Oberjarl?” he prompted.

Erak started as he realized he’d been sitting staring at the boy.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” he said and Hal frowned, puzzled by his words.

“Thank me?” he said. “For what?”

“For what you’ve done for Thorn,” the Oberjarl replied.

“What I’ve done? I’ve done nothing. He’s doing things for me.” Hal pointed to the sword and the shield, leaning against a statue of a whiskery Teutlandt king. “I’ve done nothing.”

But Erak was shaking his head. “You’ve done a lot more than you know. You’ve given him a focus for living. You mean a great deal to him.”

“Well, we’re friends, I know that, but—”

“It’s more than that, Hal,” Erak interrupted him. “He’s proud of you. He sees so much potential in you and he wants you to succeed. You’ve dragged him out of that well of self-pity and depression he dug for himself after he lost his hand. That was nearly the end of him, you know.”

“I can imagine,” Hal said thoughtfully. “It must have been a terrible thing to face up to.”

“Worse than you can imagine.” Erak paused once more and Hal sensed he was trying to decide whether to continue any further. Then he nodded slightly to himself as he came to a decision.

“How much do you know about Thorn?” he asked.

Hal thought, then shrugged. “Well, not a lot, really. He was a friend of my father. He was a member of your crew. But then he became a bit of a drunk after he lost his hand—”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Erak interjected and Hal continued.

“Yes. Then my mam gave him a bit of a talking-to and he straightened himself out …”

“That she did,” Erak said, smiling. Hal looked up.

“When my mam gives you a talking-to, you tend to listen,” he said, with heartfelt sincerity. He’d been on the receiving end of more than one in his life.

“Since then, he’s helped around Mam’s eating house, doing odd jobs and chores. But …” He paused, trying to frame his thoughts into words. Lately, he’d been seeing hints of a different side to Thorn.

“But what?” Erak prompted.

Hal frowned. “He seems to know a lot about fighting, and weapons and so on.” He indicated the sword and shield beside him.

“He should,” Erak told him. “He was the Maktig.”

“Thorn?” Hal’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Thorn was the Maktig?”

The Maktig, or the Mighty One, was the highest pinnacle of achievement a Skandian could aim for—the champion warrior of all Skandia. To be the Maktig, a warrior had to possess superlative strength, agility, speed and endurance.

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