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A Random House book
Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney NSW 2060
www.randomhouse.com.au
First published by Random House Australia in 2007
This edition first published in 2009
Copyright © John Flanagan 2009
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any
person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying (except under the statutory
exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968 ), recording, scanning or by
any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of
Random House Australia.
Addresses for companies within the Random House Group can be found at
www.randomhouse.com.au/offices.
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry
Author: Flanagan, John, 1944–
Title: The siege of Macindaw / John Flanagan
ISBN: 978 1 86471 909 3 (pbk.)
Series: Flanagan, John, 1944– Ranger’s apprentice bk. 6
Target audience: For primary school age
Dewey number: A823.4
Cover illustration by Jeremy Reston
Cover design by www.blacksheep-uk.com
Internal design by Mathematics
Typeset in 12/15 pt Caslon Classico by Midland Typesetters, Australia
Printed and bound by Griffin Press, South Australia
Random House Australia uses papers that are natural, renewable and recyclable
products and made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The logging and
manufacturing processes are expected to conform to the environmental regulations of
the country of origin.
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One
Skandian ship Wolfcloud , chewed disconsolately on a
stringy piece of tough smoked beef.
His crew were huddled under rough shelters among
the trees, talking quietly, eating and trying to stay warm
around the small smoky fires that were all they could
manage in this weather. This close to the coast, the snow
usually turned to cold sleet in the middle of the day,
refreezing again as the afternoon wore on. He knew the
crew were looking to him for a way out of this. And
he knew that soon he would have to tell them he had no
answers for them. They were stranded in Araluen, with
no hope of escape.
Fifty metres away, Wolfcloud lay beached on the river
bank, canted to one side. Even from this distance, his
seaman’s eye could make out the slight twist a third of
the way along her hull, and the sight of it came close to
breaking his heart. To a Skandian, his ship was almost a
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Copyright © John Flanagan 2009. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
G undar Hardstriker, captain and helmsman of the
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living thing, an extension of himself, an expression of his
own being.
Now his ship was ruined, her keel irreparably broken,
her hull twisted. She was good for nothing but turning into
lumber and firewood as the winter weather wrapped its
cold hands further around them. So far he had been able to
avoid stripping the ship, but he knew he couldn’t wait
much longer. They would need the wood to build more
substantial huts and to burn as firewood. But as long as
she still looked like a ship, even with that damnable twist
to her hull, he could retain some sense of his pride at being
a skirl, as Skandians termed a ship’s captain.
The voyage had been a disaster from start to finish, he
reflected gloomily. They had set out to raid Gallic and
Iberian coastal villages, staying well away from Araluen
as they did so. Raids on the Araluen coast were few and
far between these days, since the Skandian Oberjarl had
signed a treaty with the Araluan King. They weren’t
actually forbidden to raid. But they were discouraged by
Oberjarl Erak and only a very stupid or foolhardy skirl
would be keen to face Erak’s style of discouragement.
But Gundar and his men had been the last of the raiding
fleet to reach the Narrow Sea and they found the villages
either empty – ransacked by earlier ships – or pre-warned
and ready to take revenge on a single late raider. There had
been hard fighting and he had lost several men – and was
left with nothing to show for it. Finally, as a last resort, he
had landed on an island off the south-east coast of Araluen,
desperate for provisions to see him and his men through
the winter on the long journey back north.
He smiled sadly as he thought of it. If there had been a
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Copyright © John Flanagan 2009. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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