by C. R. Turner
Contents
Title
Copyright
Credits
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
The Arcadia Legacy
C. R. Turner
Copyright © 2019 C. R. Turner
The right of C. R. Turner to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electronic or mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright holders.
ISBN ePub 978-0-6483813-3-4
ISBN Mobi 978-0-6483813-4-1
ISBN Pbk 978-0-6483813-5-8
Illustration © Tom Edwards
TomEdwardsDesign.com
Editing and development by AJC Publishing and Connie Spanos.
With a special thanks to Nikki Bielinski for her medical review.
The MOSAR Series
Canine Maximus Max
The Arcadia Legacy
The Ghost Ship
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Chapter 1
I wake to the sound of Sam preparing for the hunt. The windows are still black, and a faint ghostly whistle comes from a gap in the mud chinking in the log walls. I crawl out of bed and waste no time jumping into my clothes to escape the biting cold. After strapping on my thigh holster, I pick up my knife and run my thumb gently across the edge of the cold stainless steel blade, then sheath and clip it in.
As Sam packs food and water, I wrap my arms around her, revelling in a moment of body heat, and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Do you want to take your bow and arrows? My string needs replacing.”
Sam snuggles in. “Yup.”
I open the front door and step out onto the veranda, pulling my arms in tight as a freezing southerly breeze strikes my face. I search through the darkness. “Max.” I hear him coming and right at the last second, spot his giant frame as he comes thundering up the steps and skidding to a halt, his paws leaving wet streaks on the timber and his head nearly hitting the top of the door jamb.
With Max saddled and ready to go, I place a foot in the stirrup and grunt as I climb up. Fully grown and six foot two at the shoulder blades, he’s hard work to mount now. Sam picks her backpack off the frosty grass and throws it over her shoulders. I reach down and help her up, and we’re off. A thick band of stars flows across the sky like a river, and the giant red moon Skoll is low on the horizon. I smile as Sam wraps her arms around my waist and buries her head into the back of my neck.
As Hati rises, it beams heat into the majestic landscape of snow-capped mountains and pine forests, thawing the frost on the lush grassy fields and warming the chilly air. The trees in this part of Arcadia are simply enormous, like huge columns holding up the sky. They must be hundreds of years old. We would have to be two of the luckiest people on Terra Primus.
We’re lulled by the sound of forest bird calls and animals going about their day, when out of nowhere, two razorbacks run out of the bush and onto the trail in front of us. Max startles at the sight of what’s got to be two of the ugliest animals I’ve ever seen – black and brown mottled fur raised along the spine, large sharp teeth, and a good one hundred and sixty pounds each. They make good eating but are incredibly hard to catch. Max’s stealthy paws don’t give away our position until we’re right on top of them, and Sam and I laugh as the razorbacks run away in terror, their high-pitched squeals clearly audible long after they’ve gone. I pat Max on the neck as he shifts his weight from one paw to the next, the big scaredy cat.
A bit before midday, the forest gives way to open terrain with strangely coloured grey rocks with brown stripes. Max climbs a hill, and when we reach the top, we can see out over the valley and the peninsular far off on the horizon. The valley is covered in lush green grass and peppered with brush and rocks.
“Joel, do you want to stop for a break?”
“Yeah.” I pull Max up and give Sam a hand down before jumping off.
Sam climbs up onto a boulder and surveys the peninsular before us. “I forgot how beautiful it is down here. We should come down here more often.” She turns with a big smile before running over and plonking herself right next to me.
I hand her our water bottle. “Sandwich?”
“Yup.” As I hand it to her, she adds, “Thank you,” in a whimsical voice.
I smirk.
“What? I like just the three of us being out in nature, exploring, getting away from the cabin for the day.”
Max stands there like a statue, ears pricked, watching the two of us eat. Halfway through my sandwich, I cave in and throw the rest in the air. He snaps it mid-flight and gulps it down so fast, I’m not sure whether he ate it or inhaled it. Sam and I chuckle as Max resumes his stare.
Sam rests her head on my shoulder for a couple of seconds, then stares into my eyes. “Happy anniversary.”
“What? It can’t have been a year. It’d been snowing for weeks before you arrived.”
Sam’s face is glowing. “It’s a year today.”
“Gee, the winter snow’s late this year then.” I return her smile.
Sam kisses me on the cheek. “I love you.”
I give her a peck on the lips. “Love you, too.”
We’re sitting there in peace and quiet, just taking in the scenery when a deep roar breaks the silence – a Bellona, high up on a massive boulder behind us, four hundred pounds plus at least. The big cat glares down at us, ten-inch canine teeth jutting, massive claws clinging to the rock, its thick tail swishing about as though it’s pissed off. Adrenaline surges through my veins. Although Max is much bigger, I’m not certain it won’t attack.
Max lets out a deep growl that reverberates through my chest, and I quickly grab his reins. “Max … stop it.”
The Bellona opens its jaw, bares its teeth and lets out a terrifying raspy roar. Max growls even louder. I pull on his reins to lead him away, concerned I won’t be able to hold him back. Sam grabs our gear and we cautiously back up. A couple hundred feet away, the Bellona is still eyeballing us from its vantage point, and I get the impression we just got kicked out of its spot.
We quickly remount, and I nudge Max into a trot. Sam wraps her arms around me, holding tight. The fight for survival on Arcadia can be testing, but I’ve never felt so alive. With so much love in my life, I can’t remember a time I was this happy.
As we near the peninsular, we pass through six-foot-high thickets, and I keep a vigilant eye for more Bellona; the colour of their fur is a near-perfect match for the local brush, which grows on a steep angle due to the howling north-westerly winds that blast over the peninsular. A few months ago, in the middle of autumn, the wind picked up carrying super cold air from the far north and dropped several inches of snow on us. We nearly froze. We’re out of here at the first sign of the wind picking up. I don’t want to go through that again.
Soon, we spot a pride of Bellona a few hundred feet away and make sure to keep our distance. Sam points out some deer up ahead, fattening themselves up for the winter on lush knee-high grass. She gets her bow and arrows ready. As the wind picks up and shifts around to the west, I steer Max away from the herd so we can creep up on them from downwind. The deer are on constant lookout, grabbing a mouthful of grass, then standing to att
ention while they munch away. The herd is at least fifty strong, making it difficult to find a path through the brush that conceals us from all those eyes.
I turn my head to Sam and whisper, “Are you ready?”
“Yup,” Sam replies, grabbing hold of my belt with her one free hand.
I rib Max hard. He takes off so fast we both have to hang on tight. Max only makes it about sixty feet before the first deer sees us coming. Almost in unison, the herd run for their lives. I direct Max to follow three deer that break off from the rest, and when we get to a clearing, I feel Sam let go of me. As we tear through the long grass, Sam releases her arrow and hits a deer in the rib cage, with pinpoint accuracy. The animal continues to run for a short while until two Bellona jump out of nowhere and run it down. One grabs the deer by the throat, driving its ten-inch fangs deep into its flesh, while the other latches onto its rump with its claws. The deer crashes to the ground. I pull hard on Max’s reins, bringing him to a skidding halt. One of the Bellona roars at us. We don’t have to be asked twice to leave. Once we’re at a safe distance away, I turn Max around. One of the Bellona is still eyeballing us.
“Damn it,” Sam says.
I shake my head. With the herd scattered and on high alert, I know our chances of a successful hunt are all but dashed. “What do you think?”
Sam shakes her head. “It’s not looking good, is it?”
The rest of the Bellona pride are joining in the feast, and the herd of deer are nowhere to be seen. With the chilling wind in my face, and the awareness that it doesn’t have to be winter down here to snow, I turn to Sam. “It’s after midday … the wind is picking up, and it’s going to be near impossible stalking the herd again. I think we should head back.”
Sam grimaces. “Yeah … okay.”
Hati has set and the light’s dwindling by the time we make it back to the cabin. Sam slides off and stretches, groaning in pain from spending the best part of the day in the saddle.
I slide off and dump my backpack on the ground. “Aw crap. My everything hurts.”
Sam chuckles. I remove Max’s saddle and reins, and he trots off to get a drink from his trough.
“Bags first shower,” Sam says.
“I might join you,” I reply with a cheeky smile.
Sam grins. “Okay.”
Chapter 2
After our failed hunt, we spend a lazy day resting. Life can be tough on Arcadia, but having dreamt of coming here my whole life, I appreciate every day we have here. As I sit on the front steps, Max lies on the grass in front of me. With his head raised, he’s still roughly five feet tall. Such a magnificent animal.
Sam walks out with a couple of drinks and sits next to me.
I admire her beautiful face. “I’m so lucky to have you and Max in my life.”
Sam blushes. “We’re lucky to have you, too … our ‘unordinary’ family.”
I return her grin. “I never want things to change.”
Sam rubs my back as we look out over the grassy field and pine forest to the ocean in the distance. I remember how magical this scene looked last winter, and how cold it was. “We’ll have to finish stockpiling wood and food,” I say.
“One more catch, and we’ll be fine,” Sam says. “I’m looking forward to snuggling in front of the fireplace,” Sam adds with a knowing look.
I lean over and kiss her. “I’ll chop some more firewood in the morning.”
“I’m going to start dinner,” Sam says as she jumps up, then goes inside.
Max leaps to his feet and pushes past me to follow Sam. Although the cabin has been clearly built for Canine Maximi in mind – oversized doors and solid steps – I still feel the step flex under his massive weight.
Max licks his lips and snaps his jaw shut after wolfing down his dinner, then lies in front of the fireplace, which casts a soft glow over the cabin. I sit at the table as Sam takes the soup off the stove. Sam’s sunflower oil lanterns, fashioned from old glass jars with steel lids and rope wicks, flicker as they light the table. The smell of pumpkin soup and fresh bread fills the cabin and my stomach rumbles in anticipation.
“Your bread’s so good.”
Sam smiles. “I’ve been putting a little honey in when making the yeast.”
This is why I fell in love with her in the first place; she’s way smarter than me. I dip my bread in my soup and let it soak before taking a bite. I admire Sam in the soft light. Her straight blond hair in its usual ponytail, sky-blue eyes, and her fair skin are like something from a dream. Even her delicate ears are cute. In the twelve months I’ve known her, she’s grown into a stunning woman. Now eighteen – a year older than me – and with a toned athletic body, I have no doubt she could kick my butt.
“What?” she asks.
I smile. “Nothing …”
After dinner, we lie together on several deerskins in front of the fireplace. Max is lying a short distance away, his jet-black fur shining in the soft orange ambiance as he snoozes. I’ll never forget last winter when Sam first made it to Arcadia – we’d lie awake all night, talking, watching the fire slowly burn down till dawn, just like now. From time to time, the fire lets out a loud crackle and an ember pops in the flames. I spoon Sam and wrap my arm around her, keeping her warm. I could lie like this forever, watching the flames and coals glow, enjoying the heat slowly toasting us as we melt into one.
The fire has burned down, and I feel the chill of the night air on my back. With the comforting sound of Max snoring nearby, I lift my head to see if Sam’s still awake. As much as I don’t want this moment to end, the comfort of our bed is just too tempting. I sit up and gently nudge Sam, who swiftly lifts her head as she wakes.
“Come on, let’s go to bed,” I whisper.
Sam follows me to bed, half asleep.
As I wash the breakfast dishes in the sink, I look out over the back veranda at our crops of vegetables and Sam’s beloved sunflowers. Frost covers the ground. Sam walks up behind me and wraps her free arm around my waist as she places her mug in the sink.
“I was so cold last night,” I say, as Sam continues to hug me. “We’re going to have to start getting up in the middle of the night to stoke the fire.”
Sam buries her face into my neck and replies in a muffled voice, “Yup … I think you’ve cut enough firewood now to make it through winter.”
“I wouldn’t mind cutting a bit more … just to be sure.” I nod at the window. “I don’t think your sunflowers are going to last much longer.”
Sam lets go. “Yeah … I know. They’re already struggling. I was thinking of harvesting the rest of them while they’re still healthy. Try to get as much oil out of them as possible.”
“I’m going to miss waking up to their sunny faces.”
Sam gives me a thin smile as she heads to the back door. “I’m going to do some weeding and water the vegetables.”
Once I finish the last of the dishes, I grab my deerskin jacket from the timber hook next to the shelves where Sam keeps her books, along with the dozens of others that were already here. I still can’t believe she hiked all that way with half-a-dozen books in her backpack.
I head out the back door, walk along the rear veranda, then step down onto the grass. Sam is on her hands and knees weeding with Max lying nearby, watching her intently. I grab the cold timber axe handle, pick up a short stump and place it on the giant timber chopping block. Once I strip off all the bark, I step back and swing the axe backwards and up until it reaches its zenith, then pull down with all my strength. The axe plummets from the sky and cracks the stump, sending the two halves flying.
After a while, I have a decent pile of firewood either side of the chopping block, and I collect it to stack on the side veranda. I’ve built up a sweat, so I take my jacket off. The cold air hits my skin, and I wonder how Sam can stand the cold morning air with just her floral shirt, sleeves rolled up. I suppose growing up in the hot, dry climate of Bessomi has made me more sensitive to the cold. I look over at Sam and Max, then
up at the snow-capped mountains to the north, reminding myself of where I am, and smile. There’s something deeply therapeutic about chopping firewood, my breath misting in the frigid air, the solid crack of the axe as it splinters the timber, and the course feel of the old timber axe handle in the palm of my hand. I think I enjoy it so much because it’s such a necessary chore to surviving on Arcadia. I keep at it for hours until Sam walks out and hands me a drink.
“Thank you.”
“When will you finish?” Sam asks.
“I thought I’d keep going until lunch.”
I gulp the water, watching Max trotting around the lush grassy field, sniffing things and taking a whiz on trees. Sam and I both grin at him off in his own little world.
After lunch, we sit on the veranda in chairs I made from small pine trees and leather from a couple of razorbacks. The leather’s soft and relaxing to lounge in. Sam’s reading a thick technical book on starship electronics and software systems. I’ve tried reading it but only found it useful as a sure cure for insomnia. The book I’m reading is on philosophy, written over three centuries ago by Olli Mazarok. I’ve often wondered if my father brought it here and if he also read it on one of his training trips. I remember back to talks we had about philosophy. Some of the ideas we discussed are covered in this book. A book like this on Arcadia has an unavoidable relevancy. My favourite question: does reality exist outside the mind?
Several hours later, Max and I are wandering far from the cabin in an area we’ve never been before. It’s hilly with lots of giant pine trees and rocks covered in splotches of moss. Brown pine needles blanket the forest floor. The leaves on the few deciduous trees are all rich reds, oranges and yellows. When we come across a small river, I direct Max over to it so he can take a drink from the crystal-clear water that tumbles over the rocks. Like most of Arcadia, the area is absolutely beautiful, and reflecting on my book, I wonder what the purpose of such beauty is – it’s no doubt a big part of why my soul has finally found peace.