140 Freedoms Gate (2/2)
”Come in!” shouted Sven, full of fresh energy.
It was Henrik. He looked exhausted, the deep shadows under his eyes contrasting with his pale, drawn face.
Sven was a good leader, and he immediately treated Henrik to a pill and a cup of aquavit. He also permitted Henrik to smoke a cigarette, although he loathed the smell of tobacco smoke in his bedroom. He brushed aside a couple of Henrik's tentative questions about Sven's visit to the town hall.
”Never mind all that,” he said. ”Olaf has told me you discovered a settlement down the river. I want to know everything from the very beginning.”
”Well, after we escorted the guys you sent to start our first settlement on the river, we went a bit downstream, to check things out like you told us to. We built a raft and went far the first day but then we came to some rapids and had to proceed on foot. Just for a single day, you understand, I was planning to turn back the next morning. I had a sort of feeling there was something interesting waiting for us down the river. Tell me, Sven, did you notice that in the New World, your intuition kind of works overtime? You get these hunches all the time, and most of the time they're right.”
”I noticed,” said Sven. ”Go on with your story.”
”We came across this place at the end of the day, we were actually looking for a good spot to set up camp for the night. The wind changed, it was blowing upstream and we smelled smoke and went to investigate. We came to a spot where the river widens into a small lake and saw a hamlet right on the shore. Half a dozen good-sized huts and a couple of sheds and they even built a rickety pier twenty steps long. The big thing is they've got a blacksmith, we could hear his hammer. We tried to get closer for a better look but it was getting dark and we had to get going back home the next day, we didn't have a lot of food left. So I basically watched the place for maybe an hour before it got too dark, and next morning we started back on our way to Frihetsgrind.”
”Frihetsgrind? Freedom gate? What the fuck do you mean?”
”That's what the people there decided they'll call it. Because that settlement is our first step on our way to the sea.”
Sven resented that. He was the one that gave settlements their names. But like every great leader, he remained focused on what truly mattered. He said:
”So you watched them for an hour. Conclusions?”
”There are about twenty of them,” said Henrik, ”Give or take a couple. That's assuming I saw maybe half of the people that live there. All the chimneys were smoking, so presumably there was someone inside each house to mind the fire. Yes, I think the total would be twenty people. Give or take a couple.”
”Any weapons?”
”None that I could see. But I couldn't see much at that distance.”
”If they've got a blacksmith, they've got weapons,” said Sven. He was silent for a while, nodding when Henrik asked if he could light a second cigarette.
A hundred and twenty kilometers downriver. Perfect location for a second settlement on their march to the sea. Everything ready and built, including a blacksmith. There was only one way to proceed.
”Listen carefully, Henrik,” said Sven. ”Two things. First, eat something - tell Ulla I've entitled you to double rations - and have some more sleep. When you wake up, I'll need you to help me assemble a war party. A dozen people, ten fighting men and a couple of porters. Ten men - eleven with me - should be more than enough to take over that settlement you've found.”
”We're taking it over?”
”Of course we're taking it over. Strict discipline, I want to capture everything intact.”
”There's bound to be a few people killed.”
”I was talking about the buildings. The people? It will be safest just to kill them all.”
”Maybe some would want to join us. We could use the extra labor.”
”No,” said Sven. ”Because their controllers will inform everyone here that a bunch of guys has taken over their New World village. They'll point fingers, provide descriptions and maybe even a few names. I want everyone dead, dead before they even know what is going on.”
”I understand,” Henrik said, and he did.
”Good. Now go eat and get some rest because both of us are going to have a very busy time. I want you to help me select the men for the job.”
”I want to take Lasse,” Henrik said right away. ”He's got a new bow that he says is much better.”
”What about the crossbows?”
”We've got five or six that are good, but we only have enough bolts for a couple.”
”I'll tell Olaf to sort that out,” said Sven. ”Now go and get some rest.”
He got dressed again and left the house to check on the mint. The farmyard was a quagmire of melting snow and mud and sheep shit. He forced himself to answer a couple of greetings without looking at his greeters - they tended to dart forward and pester him about something the moment they caught his eye.
It was bullshit about the bolts, he wouldn't bother Olaf with that. Extra ammo would let him take along an extra crossbow or two, but it wasn't worth it. They'd be fighting at most a dozen people, the rest would be too scared to resist. Hand to hand combat! A quick charge, naturally preceded by careful reconnaissance. That was the answer.
He would lead that charge himself. There was nothing as good as leading by example.
His mouth set, Sven walked fast toward the thudding and clanging that came from a small spinney growing next to his farm.
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