Sigurd turned to see who had spoken. Stig was obscured by the boys in front of him and leaned to one side.
"Hal!"
Some of the other boys sniggered. Stig's face reddened.
"Shut up!"
Hal sounded like a snake, hissing at his friend like that. He didn't need this sort of embarrassment. He didn't want any attention drawn to him, today of all days. Zac looked at Hal. I'm glad I'm not him.
"Hal who?"
Sigurd was genuinely puzzled. The sniggering turned into laughter. Zac glared daggers at the surrounding boys. Don't they feel even a little for Hal? Apparently not. Even though it wasn't directed at him, Hal shivered at the look in Zac's eyes. Stig's face grew even redder.
"Hal Mikkelson!"
From his position in the front rank, Tursgud turned to face him, shaking his head in mock pity and disbelief.
"You can't be serious. You're not seriously proposing 'Hal Who' as a team skirl, are you?"
The laughter grew more widespread and Stig's neck and face grew even redder as his anger approached boiling point. He joined Zac in death-staring the boys around them.
"What's the big joke?"
Tursgud was stage whispering to his friends, grinning.
"I'd say 'Hal Who' is the joke, wouldn't you?"
Hal, eyes down, unwilling to meet anyone's gaze, jabbed his elbow into Stig's ribs.
"Shut up! Just let it go and shut up."
But Stig wouldn't be silenced. He was incensed for his friend, but also enraged that people were laughing at him. His hands bunched into fists. For Gorlog's sake Stig! Please don't do anything stupid. Stig's hands bunched into fists.
"Go on! Keep laughing and I'll bash your heads in!"
Apparently Gorlog isn't listening. Stig's threat proved to be a mistake. Taken individually, most of those present would have been wary about raising Stig's anger. He made a formidable opponent. But he hadn't challenged an individual. He'd challenged a group, and they reacted as a group.
"Ooooooooooh!"
They were mocking him now. Stig swung from side to side, like a tormented bear. As his gaze fell on those nearest to him, they quickly composed themselves and hid their grins. One boy was a little slow and Stig saw him. Torshak help him. Stig lunged at the boy, with Hal and Zac trying to hold him back. This was to no avail as Stig was one of the strongest boys there and shook them off easily. He drew back his fist. Gorlog still isn't listening.
"Right! Laugh this off!"
"THAT'S ENOUGH!"
Sigurd's voice, trained over the years to carry orders to his crew above the roar of a Stormwhite gale, stopped Stig in his tracks. He looked uncertainly up at his furious instructor fist still paused. Zac let out a sigh of relief. Gorlog is finally listening.
"What the blue blithering blazes do you think this is?"
Sigurd was still yelling.
"We're not in here! We're not a bunch of squabbling children! This is brotherband! This is where you're supposed to learn to act like men! Like men! Understand?"
Stig hung his head. His face was still red, but now it was more with shame rather than anger. Zac felt for him. It had taken him a long time to learn to control his anger too. He winced as memories of past occurrences came to him. Thankfully, Stig appeared to be in control of himself again. Slowly, he lowered his raised fist.
"Sorry sir."
Zac could hardly hear him. Hal was hissing at Stig again.
"For Torshak's sake, Stig!"
Zac's attention turned back to Sigurd who was still admonishing Stig.
"One more outburst like that and you'll be kicked out on your ear! And I'll be happy to do the kicking! Understand?"
"Yes sir."
Apparently, this time Zac wasn't the only one who couldn't hear him.
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"
Sigurd's bellow caused everyone to take half a step back.
"Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!"
Stig's eyes were still cast down in shame. Sigurd regarded him for several seconds, then glanced down at his sheet of notes.
"Alright. We have a nomination for Hal Mikkelson as our third skirl. Anyone care to second?"
"Are you kidding?"
It was Tursgud who spoke, and he followed the question with a short laugh. Again, a few around him sniggered, stopping short as Sigurd's angry gaze swept over them. Tursgud, however, remained defiant, smiling at the instructor. Arrogant prick.
"You find it funny do you?"
Tursgud shrugged, unfazed by Sigurd's question. He answered with a cocky note in his voice.
"It just doesn't make sense sir. He's the son of a slave. He's not even Skandian. He's Araluan."
A few others grunted in agreement. Sigurd glared at them. Zac marked them down for further reference.
"Karina Mikkelswife is a free woman. And her late husband was a Skandian. He was also a good friend of mine. Bear that in mind when you talk about her. And her son."
He looked back down at his notes and a voice, clearly audible, came from the crowd.
"The mongrel."
Sigurd's eyes snapped back up, glaring in the direction from which the unidentified voice had come.
"Who said that?"
The speaker had the brains to remain silent. Zac, who had noticed who it was put a red star next to his face on his mental payback list. You'll be first. Sigurd, realising he wasn't getting anywhere, spoke again.
"Hal Mikkelson has been nominated. Is there a second?"
As if there will be after that. Hal looked at his friend tight lipped. He knew Stig had meant well. But Hal wished he'd kept his big mouth shut. He had no wish to be a brotherband skirl. Apart from that brief moment of glory when he'd sailed his boat (the heron) into the harbour, he spent most of his time avoiding attention to himself.
Sigurd's question met with ongoing silence. As Sigurd went to cross out Hal's name,
"Second!"
Cliffe! Who do ya reckon seconded Hal? For future reference, all italics are Zac's thoughts.
*the supreme warrior – the best in Skandia