Spiderhunter (Ages of Argainen Book 1)

by Robe

  “I will go now,” Hazzul said abruptly. “Your friends are growing anxious.”

  Auric nodded and bid him good-night, and the strange man lurked away, keeping to the shadows. Seeing several of his companions were watching him, Auric approached them and explained what he had learned.

  “I was beginning to wonder how long he planned to examine us,” Veese said when Auric had finished.

  “You knew he was there the whole time?” Auric asked, but Veese did not respond.

  “He did not look like the trustworthy type,” Dalk said.

  “I would welcome any help,” Reon spoke, and Auric nodded.

  “If he can sense Argain’s location, then our chances of catching that villain will be far greater,” Auric said.

  “And now we know Argain has gone to Martin,” Joan said.

  “Unless he was sensing Balanch,” Dalk countered.

  “He was specific that it was two days ago,” Auric countered. “Balanch only left Abelenst last night. The odds are in our favor. If he does approach any of you, be gentle. He is quite timid. Now, I think it’s time to turn in, for me, at least. The sun will surely be rising soon.”

  -

  The following morning, the companions awoke early enough to catch the ship’s captain before he retired to his quarters. Although it was only mid-day, the captain was old, if not elderly, and he preferred to do much of his commanding earlier in the hours. Nonetheless, he was proper and respectful, and he gave them the vessel welcome, claiming he would have done so yesterday had they not gone straight to their dormitories.

  All was not well though, as Kandon had been stricken with a seasickness that occupied most of his strength. He had claimed he was well enough even when he was green in the face, and he only relented after becoming sick over the edge of the ship railing. Joan demanded he remain below deck, administering her best remedies on his behalf. She deemed him contagious and forbade anyone else from entering.

  Reon and Dalk continued their sparring practice, creating a source of entertainment for many of the other passengers. Most of their fellow seafarers were good-hearted, although some kept to themselves rather than mingling. Hazzul was among the latter group.

  “Do you like it?” Joan asked as she approached Ziem while he leaned on one of the ship rails.

  “Like what?” he asked.

  “Sailing.”

  “It’s alright,” Ziem said. “I don’t mind a break in the action.”

  “Ah! My lady,” a voice exclaimed behind Joan, and she was annoyed to find Pest had returned. “It’s good to see you’ve finally emerged from below deck.”

  “Well, don’t get too used to it,” Joan said, having been approached in this fashion by the boy several times before. “I’ll be returning to check on him before long.”

  “In the meantime,” Pest pressed, “you never told me your name. I’ve learned the names of the others, but not yours.”

  “Joan. Joan is my name,” she said.

  “Joan,” the cabin boy said dreamily. “It’s fitting. A girl really shouldn’t be alone out here, with the sun setting and all. The other sailors tell of merpeople that will drag you into the depths for reasons unknown. And if they don’t get you, the cold certainly will!”

  “But I’m not alone,” Joan countered. “Ziem will gladly protect me from any sea monsters, and he’ll also keep me warm. Right, Ziem?” She cuddled up close to him as she spoke, causing Ziem to lean away in discomfort.

  The electromancer looked sheepish about being dragged into Joan’s nonsense, but he nonetheless tried to play along. “Of course…” he managed to stammer.

  “Certainly he couldn’t protect you!” Pest crowed. “You would need someone much more seaworthy to attend to you!” As he finished, he ripped his rapier from its sheath at his hip and pointed it at Ziem.

  Ziem simply looked at the blade end. “Maybe it’s the ignorant and foolhardy that need protecting,” he said, reaching out to touch the blade, “because I’m pretty sure Joan can take care of herself.” As his fingers met the tip of Pest’s sword, a visible jolt rushed down the length of it and struck the wielder’s hand.

  “Ow!” he shouted suddenly and let his sword fall, shaking his hand in pain and jumping up and down on one foot.

  “Alright, Pest?” Joan asked.

  “Must have been a… splinter or something,” he said, examining his hand. He collected his weapon before rushing off in embarrassment. When he had gone, Joan and Ziem looked at one another and snorted, trying to hold back their laughter, but they were unsuccessful in the end.

  “Thank you,” Joan said. “I thought I was going to have to send him overboard.”

  Still grinning, Joan looked over the edge of the rail into the water below. Something about the way the water moved brought an idea to her mind. Extending her hand out toward the ocean, she wrapped her mind around the churning liquid. A ball of water floated up from the sea, and once she got the hang of controlling the substance, she made it dance and spiral.

  Ziem’s eyes grew wide as he watched her employing her abilities. “I wonder if I can do that with a thunderstorm.”

  -

  When the sun set behind the horizon of orange sea, the sailors offered the passengers their finest food and drink, exclaiming that tonight was a sailor’s holiday. Foolish games were played, and many of the men got very drunk. There was much merry-making, but for the most part, the companions wanted to stay out of the way of things.

  Reon was standing against the walls adjacent to the stairs to the dormitories, watching the fun. He had enjoyed a bit of the alcohol being passed around but was unfamiliar with its pungent taste. His uncle had never allowed the beverage at home.

  While looking on at the men playing a game in which they kicked a heavy ball around the deck of the ship, he was surprised to see a woman approaching him. She was well-built, and her dark skin revealed her to be of Martin descent. Her hair flowed behind her as she walked, and she smiled at Reon, her amber gaze meeting his green. Below her left eye were three markings, and below her right was one longer one. The markings were not unlike the claw marks of an animal, and Reon could not tell if they were paint or scars.

  “Why is it you are not playing with the others?” she asked, leaning on the wall beside him. “Is the game too rough for you?”

  “I’m somewhat tired from sparring with my tutor today, or I would have the energy to learn the game,” Reon said. “What’s your excuse?”

  “They are too drunk,” she smiled. “Otherwise, I would participate.”

  Reon laughed. “I’ve never known drunk men to play so well.”

  “Then you’ve never been to Martin,” the woman replied, smiling.

  Reon stuck his hand out and she gripped it. “I’m Reon,” he said. “I come from Rode in Lon Gairdas.”

  “My name is Chey,” she replied. “I’ve been in Abelenst to visit my friend, and now that the cold season is on its way, I’m headed back home where I’ll be comfortable. Martin is quite a bit warmer than Rathelstat.”

  Suddenly, one of the sailors was before them, speaking to Chey. “The men ‘ave bet me that I cannot take you in a duel.” He had long, dark, scraggly hair that resembled a mop, and by the amount he was slipping on his words, he’d clearly been drinking. “I could not refushe an easy win.”

  “Very well,” Chey replied without much thought, her eyes flashing at the intoxicated challenger. “We shall use wooden swords, though.”

  Many of the men left the ball game to watch as the sailor and the Martin civilian prepared to duel one another. Wooden swords were given to each of the contenders, and they stood facing each other in an imaginary dueling ring. Striking their stances, a countdown was called, and the fight began.

  Pest was suddenly beside Reon, chanting to him. “Who do you think will win? If I had money I’d bet on the Martin. I heard they’re quite impressive fighters. That sailor doesn’t stand a chance. He’ll be whooped.”

  “We’ll see,” Reon rep
lied, watching interestedly.

  The two dove at one another, the sailor on the offensive. Chey easily deflected his first few blows before skirting to the side with considerable speed and striking back. Surprisingly, the sailor managed to fend off the attack and retaliated, causing a blade-lock where strength was the deciding factor. Although powerful, the Martin could not compete with the sailor’s muscle and was thrown backwards. She recovered quickly enough to parry his follow-up blow. Quite unorthodoxly, she rolled right past him, and by the time he could turn, she was on her feet again. Several more clashes of the wooden swords took place, and then the sailor lost his balance. Chey capitalized, disarming him with an agile sweep upwards, and ending the fight.

  The sailors and passengers alike cheered, and after giving a bow, Chey left the ring. She handed in her weapon and made for the below-deck quarters. As she passed Reon, she gave him a charming smile and then descended into the hull.

  -

  “One more day,” Auric said to Dalk as they dressed down for the night, a small candle their only source of light in the lower section of the ship. “By the morning of the day after tomorrow, we’ll have to resume our mission. I won’t lie, it’ll be hard leaving the light-heartedness of the sea.”

  “Yet you wish to return to the hunt,” Dalk said. “I must admit, I feel similarly. I suppose my desire to protect the innocent is derived from my being raised by guards.”

  “What was that like,” Auric asked, “having no mother, no siblings?”

  “Never a dull moment,” Dalk said, grinning. “Before I was twelve years, I could best any of the commoners in a sword match. I did have a mother, though, Mrs. Partarich. She was not the mother who birthed me, but she was a mother to all of the guards there. She was quite old when I arrived at the Institution of Peace, but it didn’t stop her from playing an important part in my childhood. I remember her telling me off one day about beating one of the nastier boys in town black and blue. He had been terrorizing one of my friends, and I couldn’t stand the little pile of excrement any longer. Back then, I was more violent, and now that I think about it, I probably still would be without Mrs. Partarich. A few years back, she caught ill in the cold season. Before anyone could do anything, she worsened to beyond the point of return. It was a sad day for everyone at the Institution.”

  “Sounds as if she was a fine woman,” Auric said. “A real blessing to anyone whose life she impacted.”

  “I was rambling,” Dalk said. “I apologize.”

  “Don’t,” Auric said. “I’m interested to hear.”

  “Very well then, how about yourself? Where did you grow up, anyway?”

  “I… grew up in Rathelstat,” Auric said somewhat hesitantly while he climbed into bed, “but since then, I’ve been all over Lon Gairdas and back.”

  “What about your family?” Dalk asked, his brow creasing as he tried to guess what Auric was hiding.

  “Gone,” Auric said, still not looking at Dalk. “I can hardly remember them, really. I spent so much time trying to bury the past.”

  “To each his own,” Dalk said, giving up on his attempt to uncover Auric’s secrets. “Do you think poor Kandon will survive until tomorrow?”

  “I sincerely hope,” Auric said, and then his face grew thoughtful. “It’s funny. When we first met Kandon, everyone was so unsure of him, and now I can scarcely imagine things without him.”

  “He has had quite an impact, especially on Joan.”

  “Yes,” Auric agreed. “Either way, it is quite late, and I’m sure you will not argue with a good night’s sleep.”

  “Indeed I won’t. Goodnight, then,” Dalk said, and he rolled over in his cot.

  “Good night,” Auric replied and blew out the candle.

  -

  The next day, Auric awoke to find Dalk’s bed empty and roamed the lower deck until he came upon the dining area. Dominating much of the space the room provided were long tables meant for seating many people at once, each one flanked by benches. He spotted Ziem and Dalk over the eating crowd and made his way over to them. The dining room would have been available the previous days, but seeing as how they continually awoke late, the dining room had already been closed. He sat beside Ziem, and the younger man offered him tea.

  “We’ve already ordered for you and the others,” Dalk said. “One perk we did not know about when purchasing entry to Martin was that our meals on the voyage would be provided for. It’s too bad we packed so much bread.”

  “It’ll keep until we really need it,” Auric said.

  Veese and Thraun had joined them before the food was ready.

  “By tomorrow, our sleep schedules will be back to normal,” Thraun mumbled. “I’m quite annoyed at waking while the sun is already high in the sky.”

  “Indeed,” Dalk said, “but we may face more of it before this ordeal has ended. Our target is quite fond of working by starlight.”

  “Truly,”Thraun agreed. He looked much better than he had a few days ago; the grief in his face was dissipating and the bags under his eyes were fading.

  “Do you have any interest in swordplay, Thraun?” Auric asked while the men ate.

  “Little,” Thraun said. “I do not think the skill would suit me. I’m not much of a fighter.” Thraun was very much a thin man, and his stamina did seem below par, so it was hard for Auric to imagine him wielding a blade.

  To the surprise of the group, Reon appeared before Joan did, conflicting with his reputation as the latest sleeper. He saw them and made his way through the dining room of crowded tables, passing Chey as he went. She smiled at him, and he responded with a goofy grin before proceeding to his friends.

  “Where is Joan?” Dalk asked when Reon sat and began digging into the food before them.

  “Probably caring for Kandon,” he said, his mouth full of fish.

  “Ah,” Dalk said. “That would explain it. Is he well, do you know?”

  “She says she has it under control,” Reon informed, “and based on how defensive she is about her medicine, I wouldn’t doubt it. You look good, Thraun.”

  “Thank you,” Thraun quietly responded.

  Suddenly, Auric felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Hazzul standing behind him. He was again hooded, and he was beckoning Auric away from his friends. Auric pardoned himself and rose to follow the strange man, and when safe from prying ears, Hazzul turned.

  “The power I sense grows stronger. The one you search for is no doubt in Martin,” Hazzul said, his voice slithering out from under his hood.

  “You are certain of this?” Auric asked.

  “The feeling is undeniable. Your man is either waiting for you or does not expect you.” With this, Hazzul began to walk away.

  “Wait,” Auric said, causing Hazzul to stop and turn back. “Can we rely on you to help us locate him once we’ve landed?”

  “You should not rely on strangers,” Hazzul warned. “My location will be known to you should you need me.”

  “Thank you,” Auric said, and again Hazzul slid away.

  “Surely you’re well enough today,” Joan said as she leaned over Kandon’s bed, catering to the ill man’s needs. His eyes were bloodshot and watery, his skin pale, almost damp to the touch. He certainly was not well enough, but Joan wanted to raise his spirits.

  “I’ve actually been well all along,” Kandon spoke, and his voice was coarse. “I just wanted to have you all to myself for the entirety of our voyage.”

  Joan smiled and shook her head. “I see your sense of humor has not been affected.”

  “I’m not sure if anything could affect it,” Kandon replied with a weak grin.

  “Well, you should feel better by tommorrow,” Joan said. “I’ve administered the ground pelenrich for your grogginess, and the almin to help you fight off what’s left of this nasty sickness.”

  “I’ll feel fine, should you be at my side,” Kandon said, and Joan took his hand in hers. “Are you not afraid of contracting my illness?”

  “
I’m not afraid of anything at this moment,” Joan said, and she bent to kiss Kandon.

  19

  A morning mist surrounded the great merchant ship as it waded through the sea water, green and blue waves growing murkier as land neared. They were very near to the Kingdom of Martin now, and Balanch desired nothing more than to leave the wretched and filthy vessel that carried him. It was not a passenger’s transport; it was filled with coal, fish, and Rathelstatian timber, resources that weighed greatly in value across the sea. The seafarers were curious about his intentions when they spotted him struggling to reach them through the choppy waters of the Abelenst harbor before throwing him a rope and hauling him onto the deck. He managed to keep to himself for the most part, and to his fortune, none of them recognized him as the miller’s son. He paid them well for the passage and was welcomed among the cheerful crew.

  Balanch wanted none of it, and when a fog enveloped the ship, he minded little. Before long, the lookout called down to the crew, and the sailors began preparing to dock. When they hit land, Balanch snuck off the ship quietly, attracting almost no notice, and slunk through the alleys of Martin. The buildings were short, few of them rising above one floor, but what they lacked in height, they made up for in depth.

  Finding a quiet place, Balanch sat and closed his eyes, searching for his master’s presence. It was not hard to detect. His master was strong once again.

  After stalking through several more discrete alleyways, Balanch found he was being led out of the village. Through the deserted and dry terrain he trekked, over and around hills until he found the point his master was calling him to. The door to the building was open, and he shut it behind him, entering only deep enough to discover the spot where he was summoned.Balanch kneeled before Argain, but he couldn’t help noticing the two people who lay bound behind his master.

  “Stand, Balanch,” Argain commanded, and Balanch did so. “It is my understanding that you fled Rathelstat in fear of defeat.”

  “It is true, my God. I failed you,” Balanch replied. “And in doing so, I have led the group of gifted miscreants here as well.”