Free 02 The Invaders by John Flanagan

reasonably competent, but they’re just teaching the basics, not the finer points.”
    Hal smiled at him. “I guess none of them were
Maktigs
,” he said.
    Thorn nodded, shrugging. “I suppose not. But I find it frustrating when I see the boys practicing bad technique. That just tends to entrench bad habits, and they’re that much harder to break.”
    “Then show them where they’re going wrong,” Hal told him.
    Thorn pursed his lips. “Are you sure? You’re the skirl, not me. I don’t want to undermine your authority.”
    Hal laughed. “I’m the skirl and when we’re at sea, they’ll obey me. I’ll see to that. But as skirl, I’ve appointed you as our battle trainer. You’re the most qualified for that job. I certainly can’t teach them. I’m learning myself.”
    “I’m glad to hear you say it,” Thorn said. “I just needed to check it with you.”
    “One thing,” Hal said, then hesitated. He wasn’t quite sure how to broach the subject. Then he decided the best way was to simply go ahead with it. “Quite a few of them are wondering about you. That demonstration in the net caught them by surprise. They’re wondering where all that skill and knowledge came from.”
    Thorn was shaking his head before he finished the sentence. “I don’t want people to know about—”
    But Hal interrupted him. “These aren’t people. These are your crew. Thorn, I can understand that when you were in Hallasholm,you didn’t want people looking and saying,
See how far Thorn has fallen? He used to be the Maktig
. But the boys won’t think that way. They look up to you already. They’re not comparing you with the way you once were. They see you as you are and they admire you.”
    “They look up to me?” Thorn said, disbelief in his voice.
    Hal nodded emphatically. “Of course they do. What’s more, I think it might do their confidence a lot of good if they knew they were being taught by a real expert. And confidence is going to be important if we have to fight the crew of the
Raven
.”
    Thorn shrugged reluctantly. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “Let me think about it.”
    “I know I’m right,” Hal said. Then he smiled. “After all, I’m the skirl. Now, what have you got in mind to improve their technique?”
    “I’ll show you this afternoon,” Thorn said.
    After the lunch break, Thorn called the boys to order and told them to gather round him. He motioned for them to sit in a semicircle, and strode back and forth in front of them, slapping the hickory baton against his boot as he searched for the words he wanted to say.
    Finally, he decided that a demonstration would be the best way to broach the subject. He harrumphed once or twice, trying to ignore the semicircle of curious faces, then pointed the baton at Stig.
    “Stig, on your feet and fetch your practice weapon and shield. Bring me a shield too.”
    Stig hesitated. “Just a shield? Don’t you want a practice ax?”
    Thorn shook his head and swished the hickory baton through the air. “This’ll be enough. Hop to it now.”
    As the tall boy ran to fetch two shields and a practice ax from the training area, Thorn turned back to the waiting boys.
    “We’ve been working on agility and balance,” he began, “and you’ve all improved remarkably. Even Ingvar.” He smiled at the big boy. “Problem is, it all goes off to visit your grandma when you start weapon practice.”
    He looked up as Stig returned with the practice equipment. He took the shield and slipped it over his right arm, then watched as Stig settled his own shield on his left, and hefted the wooden practice ax. Thorn retained the hickory baton in his left hand.
    “All right, Stig,” he said. “Let’s see your style.”
    They faced each other, and each of them dropped into a crouch. Stig’s eyes were slitted and he concentrated fiercely on the shabby figure in front of him. In spite of the matted beard and gray hair, and the tattered, patched clothes, Thorn with a