Brotherband from Lydia's point of view. There will be a lot of similarities, obviously, but I will be changing a few things as well. I love all of John Flanagan's writing but there are some things that I find unrealistic. I'm guessing that's due to this being a children's story. Fortunately, we have fanfiction where we can share our own account of amazing stories.

Chapter 1

The skiff had moved swiftly down the creek, the outgoing tide guiding the small boat out from under the tree sheltered waters and into the open bay. Lydia sat stiffly, eyes riveted on the smoke roiling up from inside the palisade that encircled Limmat. The sound of muted screams and the clash of metal on metal carried to her across the water. Although the town's primary line of defense had been disposed of, she knew that the citizens wouldn't allow the pirates to overtake the rest of the town unchecked. Their pride wouldn't allow it. She also knew that her grandfather would be among them and a tear rolled down her cheek as she imagined him being mercilessly struck down.

The tide continued carrying her out of the bay and into the ocean where the current took over, carrying her farther out to sea. She soon lost sight of Limmat, but the smoke continued to be visible above the horizon.

Lydia sat, crouched on the seat closest to the bow of the little boat, her stomach in knots and her throat parched. She had been floating for hours, with no earthly idea where she was or where she was headed. As the sun beat down on her, beads of sweat formed on her skin, evaporating quickly to cool her.

She closed her eyes and groaned. The unfamiliar rocking and bobbing of the boat on the water made her uneasy. But it wasn't just that. The sun was sinking low in the sky and before too long it would set, leaving her in darkness. After that it wouldn't matter who was out there; there would be no chance of them seeing her. The skiff had been her means of escape, but now, after having lost the oar, it had become her prison, and soon enough, her deathbed.

The sun had set some time before, the moon replacing it as the primary light source in the sky. Lydia had adjusted herself in the skiff so her backside rested on the bottom of the boat in between the two seats. She reclined so that her upper back rested against the wooden board of the back seat. Or the front…she wasn't sure.

She stared up, the stars brilliant and bright in the clear sky. Her eyes searched the seemingly random array of stars for the familiar constellations that her grandfather had long ago shown her. A lump formed in her throat and tears sprang to her eyes as she thought of him.

She sniffed, shifting her rear end to try and find a less uncomfortable position and failing miserably. She had resigned herself to the fact that she wasn't going to be getting any sleep. Along with her inability to find a comfortable position, the night had brought the cold, chasing away the heat of the day; what she had originally thought of as unbearable.

She wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to keep in what little warmth she had left.

Despite her earlier thoughts, Lydia had managed to catch spurts of sleep throughout the night. Now, as the moon neared it's downward descent, she sat up, eyes searching the horizon. But all she could see was the dark, vast, endless ocean and the stars poised above it.

She sighed, dropping her gaze to the bottom of the boat. What did it even matter when dawn came? The light of day would find her in the same predicament that she was in currently. No one knew she was out here. Well, no one except for the pirates that is, and she highly doubted they would make it a priority to search for her. After all, where could she possibly go? No, the ocean would do the work of killing her for them. And as soon as the sun came up the process would quicken as the sun beat down on her once again and drained whatever energy and water she had left in her body.

Her eyes started to drift shut, a mixture of despair and exhaustion beginning to overcome her.

Lydia's eyes snapped open as the boat rocked roughly from side to side. She looked around, momentarily confused about where she was. Then she remembered and her eyes quickly roamed the surrounding water in search of what had caused the swell that had sent the boat rocking. The sun had risen by now and she squinted her eyes against the glare off the water.

As she shifted her eyes along the horizon toward the north she spotted a small ship skimming across the water to her left and her hopes soared. She stood quickly, and then had to reach out to steady herself as she almost overturned the boat in her haste. She reached down and grabbed her one oar and with the last of her strength she raised it in the air and swung it back and forth, grunting with the effort. She tried to cry out but her voice came out as a croak.

Her arms began to ache from the effort of keeping the oar aloft, and she was wondering how much longer she would be able to hold it when the ship turned and veered toward her. She let out a moan of relief and dropped the oar back into the skiff, allowing herself to collapse back onto her seat.

She was so relieved that she hadn't even bothered to consider whether the people bearing down on her were friendly.

The ship came alongside and Lydia reached out for the arm the man extended over the side of the boat, wrapping her fingers firmly around the hard muscles of his forearm. The man took a hold of her and helped pull her over the railing. Her feet scrabbled along the wood planking as she was heaved up onto the deck. She attempted to land lightly on her feet, but weariness forced her to stumble. The man who had assisted her on board caught her before she fell and helped her stand upright.

She nodded her thanks and she found herself looking into the wide eyes of, not a man, but a boy. Evidently, he was just as surprised at her appearance as she was at his.

The boy turned around and shouted, "He's a girl!"

Of course, dressed the way she was and only seeing her from a distance, they must have taken her for a boy.

An excited murmur went up from the crew, all of them craning forward to get a better look. Their light hair, fair skin and blue eyes marked them as Skandians. She felt a twinge of fear. She knew that Skandians no longer raided and pillaged, but over a hundred years of deep seated distrust had been built and it wasn't going to be easily quelled. A giant of a man squinted his eyes at her.

"Who is she? What does she look like?"

"I don't know. But she's a real looker."

Lydia blushed, an embarrassed smile touching her lips. She was grateful that her darker complexion would hide her reddening cheeks. She looked around at all the inquisitive eyes and her smile faltered.

The entire crew were nothing but boys.

The fear she initially felt was replaced by doubt rising up in her breast as she looked at one face after another, each one just as young as the next. She walked slowly down the center of the ship, searching desperately for anyone resembling an adult.

Her eyes came to rest on a man sitting further back in the ship that was most assuredly not young. He observed her with eyes set deep into a weather worn face. His hair, plaited into two braids on either side of his face, and beard were heavily streaked with grey. Relief flooded her as she sensed the air of confidence and authority that hung thickly around him. He might not be anything to look at, but he was exactly what she wanted to see.

She headed toward him, her pace quickening. "Are you the captain?"

The man threw his head back and let out a booming laugh.

Lydia flinched at the unexpected outburst, stutter stepping, suddenly unsure of herself.

The man's laughter subsided and he looked at her, eyes dancing. "I'm more like the ship's cat. A little...pet project of the skirl's," he said, in a way of explanation. "This is him. His name's Hal."

Her gaze drifted over to the direction the man had indicated, only to be confronted by another fresh faced youth, no older than her. His light brown hair hung down to his shoulders and large brown eyes examined her.

Her eyes flicked back and forth between them, uncertain. "Really?"

"Really," Hal said. "This is the Heron. She's my ship."

"And I'm the first mate."

Another boy, who'd been standing behind the captain, pushed his way forward, shouldering his way past and thrusting his hand out to greet her. He was much larger than the captain was, tall and wide in the shoulders, but his face was just as youthful.

"Stig," he said. "It's a pleasure to have you aboard. I'm delighted-" he hesitated, "Well, that is to say, we're all delighted to meet you."

Lydia clasped his hand, smiling as she noted that his fair skin did nothing to mask the blood rushing to his face. "Thank you. Pleased to meet you."

She raised her eyebrows as he continued to hold onto her hand, wondering how long this would carry on. Then, as if reading her mind he quickly released her hand, shoving it away.

He placed his hands on his hips, clearing his throat. "Anyway, if there's anything you need, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask me." Stig's face turned a deeper shade of red. "Or, um, anyone for that matter," he added quickly.

"I will, thanks."

Hal stepped forward, nudging his awkward first mate out of the way and taking charge once more.

"What did you say your name was?"

"Lydia Demarek."

Hal stood staring at her, almost oblivious to the fact that she'd replied to his question. Then he blinked rapidly and shook his head, as if to clear it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

She spoke louder, an unnecessary action in the quiet stillness that surrounded them. "I'm Lydia. Lydia Demarek."

"And what brings you to be out here? Did you get shipwrecked?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm from Limmat and my town was attacked by pirates."

She could hear the crew erupt into excited murmurs at her revelation. Hal's cheerful and light demeanor became serious and Stig stiffened behind him.

"I only managed to get away," she continued. "I took the skiff but lost an oar. If you hadn't come along…," she shook her head unwilling to finish the thought. "Thank you," she said simply.

Hal nodded, waving his hand to dismiss her thanks. "You said pirates? When was this?"

"Yesterday, midday." Lydia's voice cracked and she swallowed, her throat dry. "Do you think I could get some water?"

"Oh, right, of course." He gestured to one of the crew. "Edvin, get her a beaker of water. Please sit down," he said, motioning her to a chair off to the side.

She sank into the seat gratefully. Edvin turned out to be the boy who'd helped her onboard. He handed her a large beaker of clear water. She drank deeply, the cold liquid easing the soreness in her throat. She gasped for breath as she let the beaker drop from her lips. "Oh my goodness, that tastes so good."

Hal, satisfied that his inhospitable actions had been rectified, looked intently at her.

"So, tell us about these pirates."