Olsen shook his head. “I’ll do as I’ve been told and take you to the area to search, but I don’t hold out much hope. As I’ve said many times, there are no islands in this quadrant. No sailor has ever seen them, and if they existed they’d already have been discovered.”
Lasgol was taken aback by this. He passed the news on to his friends, who were as surprised as he was.
Days later, as Lasgol and Astrid looked out at the sea in one another’s arms, the breeze blew their hair as if it were deliberately setting out to ruffle it. He looked at Astrid’s jet-black hair fluttering in the wind, gazed into her intensely green eyes and lost himself in that fierce face he loved so much. Having her beside him, holding her by her waist, her body against his own, filled him with joy. He had yearned so much for this meeting, to be able to be with her like this, to enjoy every little moment of her company, her warmth, her love.
Astrid looked into his eyes. “You’ve no idea how happy I am to be with you,” she said lovingly.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“I wish this moment would never end, that it could stay like this forever.”
“That would be lovely,” he said with a shy smile, knowing it could not be. They both knew that. “I was so happy when you appeared,” he admitted.
“Me too, when I was ordered to join the mission.”
“Who ordered you to come? Gondabar?”
Astrid shook her head, then nodded. “Yes, the request came from him, but the order was from higher up.”
“Higher than Gondabar? There’s nobody higher than he is, he’s our lead—” Before he could finish the sentence, he realized who she must mean. “The King himself?”
Astrid nodded. “Yes. Thoran assigned this mission to me.”
“What were you doing with him?” Lasgol asked her. He was worried and a little angry, even though he did not know why.
“Some of the missions I carry out are for the King, or on his direct orders.”
“Are you his personal Assassin?” he asked uneasily.
Astrid saw the anger in his eyes. “We can’t choose our missions, you know that. We just carry them out.”
“But … missions for the King? He’s not someone we can trust, and he must give you some very dangerous missions …”
She smiled. “Like this one, you mean?”
“You know what I’m talking about …”
“There’s not much I can do about it. We’re Rangers, we serve the realm, the King. The missions come from our leaders. It’s the same with Viggo. He’s being assigned missions by Orten, the King’s brother. I’m sure Viggo isn’t at all happy having to work for someone like that, but he can’t refuse, and neither can I. And nor can you, sweetheart.”
Lasgol snorted, long and hard. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, and nor do I want the King to lead you down some dark path.”
Astrid smiled at him tenderly and stroked his blond hair. “You look so handsome when you worry about me. It makes my heart melt.”
“I mean it,” he insisted. His gaze was very serious.
“And so, do I,” she said, and smiled even more broadly.
Lasgol shook his head. He was not getting Astrid to take his worry seriously, and it troubled him deeply. The fact that Thoran was using her was bad news, and he knew it. It was the same with Orten using Viggo. They were two people to be kept away from as much as possible: because of the danger they would plunge Astrid and Viggo into head-first, and also because they would end up corrupting his friends’ souls if they dealt too long with them.
“Promise me you’ll be very careful not to let Thoran influence your decisions.”
“Don’t worry so much about me. I have very good judgment. I chose you, remember?”
“That’s exactly why,” he joked, to lighten the tone a little.
She kissed him gently and stroked the back of his neck. Lasgol felt the love and tenderness in her heart.
“I love you. That’s why I worry.”
“I know, sweetheart. I love you too, and I’m deeply grateful for it.”
The days went by peacefully. The weather was fine, and the ship sailed the calm waters without too much swaying. There was not much to do on board, so during the day Ingrid and Nilsa practiced archery. Nilsa climbed the mast to the crow’s-nest – not without difficulty, given her clumsiness – and tied on a target which they had made out of a shield. They both practiced shooting at it repeatedly from different positions, the further away the better.
Ingrid for her part had tied another shield to the dragon’s head as a target, and what she practiced was evasive movements, during which she would release at a short distance with her favorite bow, Punisher. Her speed and agility when she released – and the way she always hit the target at such a short distance – left everyone open-mouthed. The sailors were so much afraid that they would not even come near either of them when they were practicing, but instead hurried away immediately to wherever their work required them. Captain Olsen had not put any difficulties in their way, as long as they were careful not to hit any of his men.
Viggo and Gerd meanwhile also practiced close combat. Gerd wanted to get better at this, and Viggo was an expert, so he could have chosen no better teacher. His agility when it came to evading Gerd’s attacks was amazing. Gerd worked as hard as he could, but it was impossible for him to catch Viggo. His friend seemed to guess every move, every attack, in advance.
“I’ll catch you!” Gerd said.
