by Alex Paul
PRAISE FOR THE ARKEN FREETH SERIES
“This is the next level adventure story you have been waiting for. Brash, rip-roaring, and stunningly original, it is unlike any young adult fiction you’ve ever read.”
—Isaac Peterson
My name is Winslow and I am 9 years old. Why I think Alex Paul’s books are good: I think Alex Paul’s books are great. I have read two of them. I have three reasons why I think Alex Paul’s books are great. My first reason is because of the adventures the Toths, Tons, Swordtooths, and Smokers have. Such as when the Smoker attacked the burning ships. My second reason is because it was before the Great Flood many thousands of years ago. That means that weapons like the bow, sword, and spear were very new to civilization. My last reason is because the book is very detailed. I think he did a very good job describing the characters. For example, Arken Freeth is good with a bow, is a commoner, is a Neanderthal, is super strong, and is quite short. As you can see that is why Alex Paul’s books are great. I really hope he writes another book.
—Von Trullinger
“If you’re ready for an adventure of epic proportions, read on in the Arken Freeth series!”
—Cheri Lasota, Author of Echoes in the Glass
“A vivid story of action and adventure intertwined with lessons of honor, humility and gracious values. It leaves you anticipating the next in the series in a fantastic manner!”
—Giselle Minshull
SEAJOURNEY
Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals
Book One
by
Alex Paul
SeaJourney. Copyright © 2000–2015 Alex Paul
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Publisher: AIS, Limited.
12900 SW 9th St.
Beaverton, OR 97005
503-641-9094
Second Edition
All illustrations appear courtesy of Laura Ross-Paul
Cover Design by: Stirling Editing
Interior Design by: Stirling Editing
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I need to thank several people who have been instrumental in helping me get SeaJourney, the first book in the Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals series, into the world.
First and foremost, thanks so much to my wife, Lori. She began insisting that I pursue my dream of writing a long time ago and was constant as the North Star in advising me, supporting me, and encouraging me. Quite literally, this book would not exist without her! In addition to her inspiriation, the cover art and map are her brilliant creations.
Thanks also to my daughter, Emma. She was eleven years old when I had the idea for Arken and I read her a description of the story. She enthusiastically replied that if the book were in a bookstore, she would buy it and read it! Now, she is an adult, and the stories of Arken are finally a reality. She has read them numerous times and still enjoys them. I will be forever grateful for her initial enthusiasm, which told me Arken’s life would make a great story.
Thanks also to my sons, Sean and Louie, for spending so many hours hunting with me when they were growing up and now as adults. And thanks to Emma as well as the boys, for joining me fishing for salmon on the Pacific Ocean. Congratulations also to Emma who killed her first elk this year. It is such a joy to hunt with you.
Watching my children fall in love with the outdoors as they grew up has been one of the highlights of my life. It made me want to share that experience through my fiction with young men and women who have never had a chance to go into the field. I sincerely hope that Arken’s adventures will give others an idea of what it is like to walk quietly through the woods on a hunt or venture out onto the ocean.
Thanks, too, for our neighbor Aiden, who read the manuscript when it was in a difficult-to-read, three-ring binder. His enthusiasm for the book really propelled me to get it published, especially the time when I saw him playing in the backyard with his friends after reading the book. They were building a catapult and walking barefoot to make their feet tougher like Arken. And thanks to them, Lori had models to pose for the cover art!
Finally, thanks to: Carolyn Rose for her early editing efforts and her encouragement telling me she loved Asher and wanted to read more of his life; Holly Lorincz for her editing on Shipwrecked; Cheri Lasota who has edited this book so well; and Elizabeth Lyon for editing all my books for story content and encouraging me to publish. She has been a major force in the series creation. Without Elizabeth, Arken’s story would still be buried in a mythical urn in the sand by the Great Pyramid of Giza.
MAP OF THE CIRCLE SEA
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1: The Rock Test
Chapter 2: Arken Spars Gart
Chapter 3: Yolanta Raids Baltak
Chapter 4: Ord’s Torment
Chapter 5: Torture and Betrayal
Chapter 6: Birthday Party
Chapter 7: The Tattooed Soothsayer
Chapter 8: Ord Recovers
Chapter 9: Grandfather’s Warning
Chapter 10: The Sea
Chapter 11: The Dragging
Chapter 12: Seasick Romance
Chapter 13: Mutiny!
Chapter 14: Fighting Turns to Fishing
Chapter 15: Ord the Runaway
Chapter 16: Asher’s True Identity
Chapter 17: Attack on the Golden Willow
Chapter 18: The Tookans Pursue
Chapter 19: Princess Sharmane Flees
Chapter 20: Death from the Sky
Chapter 21: Escape to Shore
Glossary
INTRODUCTION
From The Earth’s Secret History: Arken Freeth Scrolls
by Arduel
I am Arduel, the last descendant of the Brotherhood of the Knowledge Keepers of Lanth. I now set down my words on this parchment before burying some of our surviving writings in an urn in the desert north of the Amarrats’ Great Pyramid.
I hide these writings because yesterday the agents of the Roman emperor burned the Library of Alexandria. I managed to escape and save these scrolls. I know that I will soon be caught and killed, but I will die in peace, knowing these writings are safe.
The scrolls of Antipolax are in this urn. He was a Knowledge Keeper who survived the Great Flood 9,000 years ago. Antipolax’s writings describe the scientific instruments that allowed my ancestors to see vast distances out into the stars. I wish that I could have seen these instruments, but sadly they were destroyed long ago and no one can make them today.
Antipolax witnessed a giant asteroid flying through space toward Earth. This asteroid, which they named Marduk, caused the destruction of the Great Flood.
Ever since the Great Flood, our Brotherhood has obeyed our sacred vow to preserve the knowledge of Lanth for the benefit of future men. We were forced into hiding long ago because Emperors and Pharaohs wished to kill us. They do not want the world to know that man once had a civilization more advanced than the Roman Empire of my time.
I also placed the Arken Freeth scrolls among Antipolax’s writings in the same urn. Arken Freeth lived 11,000 years before my time and 2,000 years before Marduk caused
the Great Flood, which brought the storms of winter
and the heat of summer to Earth. I wish I had lived then, because in Arken Freeth’s time, Earth truly was a paradise. Each day was fair and warm everywhere on the planet and only the poles were cold. There were no storms of rain or snow with high winds. Instead,
gentle dew fell everywhere each night, nourishing all the plants. And during each day the sun shone across the Earth without fail, and the plants produced two bountiful crops a year.
In that paradise world of pleasant weather, lush plains, and fertile valleys, men built high-walled cities that kept the people safe from the great cats and giant bears. Men set forth in great ships from those cities and plied the seas with trade.
To protect their ships, the city-state of Lanth built a large navy and bred the world’s finest warriors. Of all those warriors, Arken Freeth was the greatest of all, for he saved Lanth from certain ruin. The scrolls in this urn tell his story. It is my hope that the mysterious forces that helped Arken defeat Lanth’s enemies will protect what I have buried and one day allow the truth of man’s history to be revealed. I hope those that read these scrolls are inspired with courage as they discover the story of Arken Freeth, the greatest warrior of Lanth.
Fear none in battle, nor death at sea,
Nor those who wish to torment thee.
With Kal in mind and sword held high,
Fight until you win or die.
—Lantish Warrior’s Creed
Inscription on the entry arch of the
Lantish Royal Military Academy
CHAPTER 1
THE ROCK TEST
Mother, I weep for you each night. Our enemy’s campfires seem to number more than the stars in the sky. Their soldiers drum and chant all night, tormenting our sleep. I fear the worst for my people, for I cannot read the Necklace of Tol to see the Time to Come.
—Diary of Princess Sharmane of Tolaria
Thirty boys surrounded Arken in a circle, waiting for him to lift the rock.
“Class, form a seated square around the post and stone,” their instructor Lar ordered. Arken’s task was simple: lift the heavy stone and leave it balanced and still on the post. But he had never lifted such a heavy stone.
Arken’s classmates carried sparring swords and wore bronze armor over their white, knee-length tunics. Bronze helmets shielded their faces from the blazing sun. Their armor rang with the music of bronze as they joked around and took their places sitting cross-legged on the courtyard clay.
It was easy for Arken’s classmates to laugh. Having already passed their tests, they were in a happy mood. Being the youngest in the class, Arken was the last to reach his fourteenth birthday and take the test. Arken stared at the heavy round stone lying on the red clay of the courtyard next to the post. If he passed the rock test, he would graduate from the Lantish Military Academy and join his class at sea for their moonth-long training mission.
If he failed the test, he would be held back and repeat his last year’s training. He didn’t want to be held back; he was ready to go to sea and begin his career as an officer.
Well, there is a way to graduate, thought Arken, but that would be harder than lifting the rock. He could defeat Gart, their class salcon, or leader, in a sparring match, which was nearly impossible, as Gart was a year older and a head taller than Arken, who was the shortest student in the class.
“Arken, it’s hot. Quit staring at the stone and lift it!” Lar ordered. “Then we can get out of the sun.”
“Yes, sir.” Arken stepped toward the rock as he scanned the second-story classrooms several hundred feet away across the courtyard. Girls in the Queen’s Trackers often visited the Academy for training and, being scouts, they had good eyes. He didn’t want them to see him fail.
But no girls watched from the openings in the gray stone walls. Even the tower guards weren’t looking, probably because their midmeal had left them sleepy.
Arken turned toward Tok, the name given to the rock five hundred years earlier when the test began. “Don’t forget the warrior’s creed,” Lar reminded him.
“Sir!” Arken recited it. “Fear none in battle, nor death at sea, nor those who wish to torment thee, with Kal in mind and sword held high, fight until you win or die.”
“Good! Now win your fight with that rock,” Lar ordered.
Arken reached down and grabbed some of the red courtyard clay and rubbed it on his palms to improve his grip. Then he rose and stepped before the rock. Waves of heat from the midday sun shimmered off the surface of the rock. It is going to be hot as well as heavy, Arken thought.
A swordtooth’s scream split the air. The class turned as one toward the sound coming from beyond the north wall. The high-pitched tone dropped to a long, low rumble that made Arken’s neck hairs stand up.
“Remain calm, class,” Lar ordered. “That swordtooth is far away. I promise, if it draws close enough for the guards to kill, we’ll go up on the wall and watch.”
The boys all talked at once about the swordtooth and seemed to forget about Arken. He wiped sweat from his face that had run down despite the gastag leather strap holding back his long, blonde hair. He felt grateful for the swordtooth because it bought time to get his nerves under control.
The swordtooth screamed again, sending chills down Arken’s spine. The cats grew to be twenty feet long and, though terrifying, they inspired him. They were proof of the vast, dangerous world beyond the city walls awaiting his exploration.
“Quiet class. Watch Arken; he’s ready to begin,” Lar ordered.
“Fourteen... I’m old enough,” Arken whispered to himself. He rubbed the loose clay from his hands and extended a hand from the top of the post to his chest, measuring the height. He’d have to lift Tok to his belly button. A slight depression in the top center of the post would hold the rock, but his biggest challenge would be lifting it and gently placing it on the post so it wouldn’t roll off.
“He’ll never lift it,” Gart whispered loud enough for all to hear. “He’s too small.”
“Silence, Gart!” Lar entered the sparring square and strode toward him. “You’re a salcon! Friendly teasing is fine, but a class leader should never undermine his men.” Lar jabbed his heavy walking stick into the back of Gart’s calf where the armor didn’t protect his legs, making the boy wince. A grimace crossed his face. Crying out during punishment lengthened the beating so Gart made no sound.
“Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!” Gart pulled his feet in tight under the skirt of his white tunic to avoid another poke of Lar’s stick. His lower lip quivered slightly despite his stony face.
“Arken, lift that stone now!” Lar spun around, his long, white robe flowing and following his movement. The robe was a formal part of the rock test and was always worn by the class instructor.
“Yes, sir,” Arken said, but the swordtooth screamed again, drowning out his reply.
“It’s getting closer!” Lar exclaimed. “Arken. Hurry and lift. We want to see that swordtooth killed!”
“Yes, sir.” Arken squatted, pressed his chest to the stone, and reached around with his arms so he could lock his fingers. He’d always thought his barrel chest was an advantage; it gave him more wind when he ran. But now his chest prevented his fingers from touching. Arken turned his head to the left, the hot rock stinging his right cheek as it touched the stone, and strained until he managed to connect his fingers. For once, his too-large hands were an advantage and not an embarrassment.
He held his cheek off the hot rock as he pushed with his legs. But the rock didn’t budge. It felt alive, and its weight fought him. He struggled to breathe, his chest restricted by the rock’s pressure.
He tipped back on his heels and the rock popped off the ground. A thrill ran through him. I’m going to do it! But when he strained to rise, nothing happened. Impossible. So heavy!
I can’t disappoint Father. Dear God Kal, grant me a birthday wish, Arken prayed. Help me lift this rock.
He screamed, and it startled some of the boys. He didn’t care; the scream gave him strength, and the rock edged higher. His inner elbows burned from the strain of the weight. They felt as if red-hot fire pokers were being thrust into them. His legs trembled. He simply had to endure the pain.
I am strong enough!
“Almost there!” Lar had s
tooped over to see the post’s top.
Arken lurched forward with his right foot, but the rock thudded against the top of the post. He advanced his left leg, and then leaned back, trying to raise the rock the last little bit to clear the post.
Pain shot across his low back, and a wave of fear engulfed him as he recalled Lar’s stories about boys breaking their spines by tipping backward too far.
“One finger width higher!” Lar yelled.
The pain straightened his spine against his will.
“No, you’re going lower. Lift it higher!” Lar waved his hands as if he could somehow help Arken lift.
Arken strained his calf muscles, trying to lift his heels off the ground and raise the rock that way. He rose to his tiptoes.
“You’re clear.” Lar stepped closer. “Push it forward, Arken!”
One final push. He could feel it! He strained to go forward, but suddenly, his calves gave way as if they belonged to someone else, no longer willing to do his bidding. He felt his heels strike the ground as the rock pushed them down.
“Too low.” Lar bent down. “Can’t you get it higher? You were close.”
“I’ll try,” Arken grunted. He strained to raise himself back on his toes, but nothing happened. He tried to pull with his arms, but the rock lodged against his chest and wouldn’t budge. Suddenly everything started to go dark. He focused his eyes on some palm trees across the courtyard outside the main gate.
The green palms swayed in the light breeze as they receded down a long black tunnel. He blinked, but opened his eyes to only a pinhole of light.
“Clear!” His intended yell came out a whisper. He felt the stone slip from his grasp. A hand snatched his arm and pulled him back as he passed out.
“Are you all right?” Lar’s voice echoed in Arken’s ears as if his instructor were in a cave.
“I think so.” Arken opened his eyes. A seagull hovered in the blue sky high above Lar’s bearded, hollow-cheeked face, and Arken realized he was lying flat on his back.