Spiderhunter (Ages of Argainen Book 1)

by Robe

  “Not quite as wealthy,” Ziem replied.

  “The story you told us, it was true, was it not?”

  “It was. Every word.”

  “I am sorry for the situation you were dealt. To not be loved by one’s own parents must have been difficult.”

  “I never thought myself unlucky,” Ziem said. “I knew no differently. Your parents were good?”

  “Yes,” Veese replied. “Everything I know, I owe to them.”

  “What happened to them, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Veese’s brow creased as he summoned the unpleasant memory, and his position in mid-air staggered before regaining its stability. “They were killed by bandits who were attempting to pillage what we protected. There were seven criminals, each one as wicked as the next. At the time, I was only twelve, but my family did what they had to do without involving me. My sister was with them. Three years older than I, it was by her blade that the last two brigands fell.” Veese touched the sword sheathed at his hip.

  “May I ask what happened to your sister?” Ziem pried further, his eyebrows upturned and his tone slow and cautious.

  Veese’s altitude declined suddenly, but he snapped his eyes closed and remained airborne. “I lost her to the Raugen. It was only two years ago. She was one-and-twenty years. A bad accident, one I could have prevented had I been more vigilant.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Ziem said. “Now it is I who seems the lucky one. To lose those so closely loved… The only people I have ever feared losing are those we travel with now.”

  Veese opened his eyes again, refocused. “Do not pity me for the loss of my loved ones,” Veese said. “You have been made strong by your lack of comfort in life, but love is one thing you should not forsake. Do not pity me because I lost those whom I loved, envy me for the time that I had with them.”

  “There you are!” a voice cried, sending Veese plummeting to the ground in a jumble. Instantly, Reon was pulling him up. “Sorry to have startled you,” he said. “That was quite a little trick you were doing there.”

  “Why have you been searching for us?” Veese asked, dusting himself off.

  “There is news. Auric wanted to discuss it with everyone,” Reon said.

  -

  Once Veese, Ziem, and Reon returned to The Solid Coin, Auric explained the situation to them.

  “We have a difficult decision to make,” Auric said. “We can travel to Martin with definite knowledge that Balanch is or was there, or we can stay here and search for Argain. We could split our numbers, but I don’t like that idea. We remain strongest united.”

  “Wouldn’t it make sense that Balanch would flee to his master?” Dalk asked. “Perhaps Argain is already in the Kingdom of Martin.”

  “I don’t think so,” Joan said. “He didn’t seem to have a clue where he was going when we chased him off the dock.”

  “Wouldn’t the people of Abelenst need us more?” Reon asked. “He’s already attacked here, and from what I hear of the people of Martin, I doubt they would need us to protect them.”

  “They are good fighters,” Dalk agreed. “They would, however, have little defense against the attacks Argain would use.”

  “And we know Balanch has gone there,” Kandon spoke up. “He’s proven he’ll attack innocents on a large scale.”

  “By my theory, Argain will only grow stronger the longer he walks free,” Veese said. “If we waste time chasing his servant, he may be too powerful for us to oppose when we finally meet him.”

  “Ziem, Thraun, what do you think?” Auric asked.

  “I think voyaging to the Kingdom of Martin would be for the best,” Thraun spoke after a short pause. His voice was quiet, and he hadn’t looked good since Kassidy’s death. “Balanch has lost to you in battle three times, so his only option would be to flee to his master.”

  Ziem nodded. “I agree. We know we can beat Balanch. Certainly he knows it, too.”

  “And Argain,” Auric added. “Although, I’m not sure if that means he’s trying to draw us away by sending his minion to Martin or not. This is a difficult decision to make, but I vote we head across the sea.”

  “I too,” Dalk said.

  “And I,” Kandon said, “I wouldn’t mind having my way with that weasel, Balanch.”

  “I hope you are right,” Veese said.

  “There will be no more ships traveling to Martin until the morning, so perhaps we should keep a look-out on the town tonight,” Auric suggested. “We can rest during the journey.”

  “Great,” Joan griped. “More skulking up and down the streets.”

  -

  When the glow of morning began to illuminate the sky after the eventless night, Auric secured transportation for the group, purchasing passage across the Southern Sea. They were to board The Early Dusk, a ship primarily used as transportation between the Kingdom of Martin and Rathelstat.

  With under an hour before boarding time, the party gathered their supplies from The Solid Coin, and Auric informed Tols of their departure. The inn keeper bid them good luck but didn’t try to hide his relief at their leaving. As the time to set sail grew near, the group left The Solid Coin, and several of the other people at the tavern, including Turtle, bid them farewell on their way out.

  Quietly, they walked together down the dusky streets of Abelenst, their shoes patting against the paved cobblestone. It was too early for many people to be out, and the roads were still very much deserted, save one individual: Mrs. Teratome, the former caretaker of the Great Mill, and mother to Balanch.

  When she spotted them, she approached, and they could see the sorrow in her eyes. “Heroes, you have put yourselves between Abelenst and danger to protect us more than once. You’ve already done more than anyone could ask, but I must ask you one more thing. On behalf of everyone who knew him, please stop Kule. Please, don’t let my son hurt anyone else. I know you’ll try,” she smiled sadly at them through her long, graying hair. “I made you some pastries from the last batch of wheat the mill made.” She handed Dalk a container filled with small cakes.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Teratome,” Auric spoke. “We will do our best to protect those who need us.” The woman nodded and then wished them a safe voyage before shuffling off. Grief filled the hearts of the group, as would fill the heart of anyone who had seen a woman who lost both her sons and her livelihood.

  Exhausted from the previous night of vigilance, the eight party members moped around the docks, waiting for their vessel to be ready. After a time, other people began to gather at the harbor, most of them with luggage. The other passengers varied greatly, some of them able-bodied men, some families waiting in small groups, and other individuals, their motives a mystery to all but themselves. As Martin was the homeland of a people whose skin was darker than their northern neighbors, many of the passengers had dark skin.

  Before the sun managed to peak over the horizon, a man appeared at the side of the ship and called out, “Boarding now!” The companions picked up their gear and everything else they had packed and approached the boarding ramp. The ship itself was quite a sight; its immense sails unfurled and revealed they were the Rathelstat colors of grey and black. Its shape was much different than Lon Gairdas ships, with a rounder bow and an overall stockier build.

  A shipmate was waiting for the passengers at the head of the ramp and guided them down a wide flight of stairs, below deck, and through a narrow hallway lined with rooms.

  “This is to be our home for how long?” Joan asked, sitting down on a bed in one of the dormitories where the group had gathered. There were two beds in each room, but not much else, and the party was allotted four rooms in total.

  “Three days, three nights,” Dalk said.

  “Joy,” Joan muttered.

  “At least it gives us time to rest,” Auric said.

  “Speaking of which,” Kandon said. “I think it’s time we’ve all gotten to that.” He ushered the rest of the party from the room and closed the door before turning to Joan. �
��Shall we bunk separately?”

  Joan was already slipping her shoes off and pulling the covers of her bed back. “You decide.”

  “Hah!” Kandon said and threw himself into the bed beside her. “It’ll be just like camping.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Joan said.

  Kandon chuckled and was about to reply, but a snore from Joan halted him in his attempt. He smiled as he looked at her, but he was soon joining his resting companion in a deep and much-needed sleep.

  -

  Joan awoke late into the following day to find her bed vacant of Kandon. Guessing he had already been up, she slumped out from under the covers to look at herself in the mirror and groaned. Her fears confirmed, she began preening herself, trying to make her hair look presentable and cleaning away any traces sleep had unwantedly left behind. She felt good though, as if healthier than before any of the incidents of the past couple of weeks. Finally somewhat satisfied with how she looked, she left her dormitory to find the others.

  Upon stepping onto the deck of the Early Dusk, Joan discovered her friends waiting about the ship. She spotted Kandon leaning against the side rail and, upon approaching him, found that the others were standing nearby watching a good-hearted duel between Dalk and Reon.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Kandon said, sipping something from a mug.

  “If you can call this morning,” Joan replied, and she looked out over the horizon. She was taken aback at the view before her; the endless waves rolled along the vast ocean surface, as if ripples in a cloth tinted orange by the glow of the low sun.

  “I thought you would never get up,” Kandon said.

  “How long did you sleep?” she asked.

  “Just an hour or two less than you,” he replied. “Feeling rested?”

  “Surprisingly, yes. I wouldn’t have thought I’d like sailing, but the rocking of the ship put me straight to sleep and held me there against my will. It probably also helped that I didn’t have the fear of being shaken from my sleep because of some disaster.”

  Kandon chuckled. “I feel terrible. The ocean is not my domain.”

  He turned back to watch the fight between their two comrades play out. Reon was doing most of the attacking with Dalk easily blocking his blows against the large blade he always carried. For the first time, Joan really examined the weapon; it was tremendous compared to most swords, with a blade twice as broad and a far reach. Its edges were sharp, and the amount of power behind its immense weight made it a frightening thing to behold. Joan was impressed Dalk commanded it with such ease, sometimes even with one hand.

  Reon performed a particularly daring attack, but Dalk parried the move and pinned Reon’s sword under his. “Inventive,” Dalk said, smiling, “but try not to put yourself in a position where I can so easily stifle and punish you.”

  “What’s going on?” Joan mumbled to Kandon.

  “Reon asked Dalk to teach him proper swordplay,” Kandon responded.

  The two sparred again, this time Reon choosing a more defensive style. He blocked Dalk’s first attack well, but the second one caught him off-guard and made him lose his balance, allowing for Dalk’s third swing to disarm Reon cleanly.

  “You’re quite good,” Reon said, grinning as he bent to retrieve his sword.

  “You show natural talent,” Dalk said. “A few lessons and you’ll be a handful for any opponent who chooses to attack you sword-to-sword. You won’t believe how effective some basic techniques can be.”

  Reon wielded one of the swords he had borrowed from Veese on the first night they had met. It was a gladius, featuring a short, flat blade and a thin, round hilt that was difficult to grip: hardly a beginner’s tool. Nevertheless, Reon was determined to learn how to use his sword effectively, and the pair continued their lesson.

  -

  There was little to do around the ship besides socializing, and once the sun went down, the majority of the other passengers retired below deck to sleep. However, the companions were well-rested and persevered many hours into the night. Only several of the other travelers joined them, along with one of the cabin boys, nicknamed Pest by the other sailors. Pest had long, brown hair that flowed behind him; he was young, with no facial hair ever touching his chin or lip, and he was youthful in form.

  “What’s it like, then. Lon Gairdas?” Pest asked. “Is it as grand as Abelenst?”

  “It has its own grandeur,” Joan replied, “but I’d never seen anything like Abelenst before.”

  “Hmm…” the young cabin boy squinted his eyes and thought. “Is your hair usually that blonde?”

  “What?” Joan gaped, too confused by the question to answer.

  “Well, there are some women in Abelenst who use paint to color their hair,” Pest explained. “It’s not paint per say, but it’s a newer practice and has only been discovered recently. Don’t ever paint your hair though. It’s beautiful.”

  “Alright,” Joan chuckled, amused at the compliment from the boy. He was far too young for her, but she didn’t mind the conversation.

  “May I?” Pest suddenly asked, reaching a hand toward her hair.

  “Sure, why not,” she said and bent her head for him to stroke her locks. At an angle, she watched Kandon stroll up with a frown on his face and stand menacingly before Pest, whose hand she felt leave her head promptly.

  “Can I help you?” Kandon asked, his words kind, but his posture making his intentions quite clear.

  “No,” Pest said hurriedly, and he rushed off to perform his duties.

  “Unbelievable,” Kandon said and slung his arm around Joan. “I leave you alone for thirty seconds and the cabin boys are caressing you. Guess I have to keep someone as pretty as you close by,” he pulled her toward him suddenly, squeezing her tightly against him.

  “Ow!” she giggled and pushed him away. “Brute.”

  “Wench,” he retorted.

  -

  For hours after the sun had set, the companions did little other than lounge about while Dalk and Reon sparred. Eventually, Dalk summoned Auric into the ring and the two faced off. Auric proved to be capable with a sword, but Dalk still disarmed him without much trouble. Chuckling, Auric congratulated Dalk on his victory before relinquishing the position of trainee back to Reon.

  Only after Auric returned to the ship rail did he see the lone figure watching them from beneath the shadows of the sails. Having thought all of the other passengers turned in hours ago, Auric was surprised to see the person. By torchlight alone, he could make out a dark-clad individual, but the face was shrouded by a hood.

  Suddenly, the figure began to approach him, and although surrounded by his allies, Auric’s hand still instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword. The figure stopped before him and stood silent. For several moments, the being faced Auric, as if trying to intimidate him. Auric stood his ground though, gazing right back into the hooded area where his rival’s face and eyes would be.

  “It is unusual for such a group of people to travel as you are,” the figure spoke with a cold, slithery voice. “I can sense you are not of natural company.”

  “Of what do you speak?” Auric asked, his curiosity spurred by the other person’s wording.

  The figure simply turned its hooded head to look at Auric’s friends. “I feel you are the one in debt one explanation.”

  Auric was confused and somewhat annoyed by the disrespectful comment. “You will have to be specific about the sort of explanation you require.”

  “You, along with your group, have been Touched,” it spoke.

  “And how could you possibly know that?” Auric inquired.

  “Because I can sense it…”

  Auric was agitated but did not feel threatened by the figure. “Won’t you lower your hood so our conversation can be more convenient?”

  “Not until I know where your motives lie.”

  “It is hardly fair that I should risk the well-being of my party, when you need only reveal your face,” Auric reasoned.

&nb
sp; The stranger was still for a moment, and then it reached up and pulled back the hood. He was a man, so oily looking that his raven-black hair seemed to drip with grease. His facial hair was slick and precisely groomed, but it too seemed saturated. Sharp were his eyes, almost feline at a glance. He wasn’t particularly tall, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in appearance.

  “I am Auric,” Auric said, offering his hand to grip.

  The man looked at Auric’s open palm for a moment before grasping his hand. The firmness with which he gripped Auric surprised the leader, and when the man let go, Auric’s fingers were sore.

  “My name is Hazzul,” he said in his sleek voice.

  “How can I help you, Hazzul?” Auric asked.

  “You possess abilities,” Hazzul began, “those of which an ordinary human could never imagine. I can tell this because I too am gifted and can sense the unnatural energy in those around me.”

  “Impressive,” Auric replied, “but I think you may have me mistaken. I own no unnatural powers.”

  “You may not yet know it,” Hazzul said. “Your allies, too. All but one of them. But answer me this: why are you traveling to the Kingdom of Martin?”

  Auric considered his new acquaintance for a moment before deciding it was a worthwhile risk to tell him about their mission. “There is a murderer, far too powerful for an average citizen to combat. He has been slaying other, ‘Touched,’ as you call them. We have trailed him all the way from Lon Gairdas in an attempt to stop him.”

  “Interesting…” Hazzul mumbled, and then he replied, “I have only recently acquired this ability of mine. A week ago, I felt a massive shift in energy around me, as if something immense was nearing. Two days ago, whatever it was had gone, fading across the sea. I bought passage to the Kingdom of Martin to follow the source, but instead, I found you and your group.”

  Nodding, Auric spoke, “I see. The power you sensed must have been our target. He is wicked and seeks full control of this world. His strength is immeasurable, but we have bested him in battle more than once. Had he not the speed of the stars, we would have already ended his evil.”