by T B Phillips
T. B. Phillips
Deckplate Publishing LLC
Andalon Arises
Dreamers of Andalon, Book Two
Published by Deckplate Publishing LLC
Copyright © 2020 by T.B. Phillips.
Cover design by Lynnette Bonner of Indie Cover Design
Front cover art by Jenny Kuehner Bechtold
Map artwork by Cary Beshel
Book interior design by Stewart Design, https://StewartDesign.studio
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
ISBN 978-1-73318-051-1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
To my wife, Jaana
You are truly my best friend. I appreciate you and your support throughout my endeavor to bring this story to the world!
To my mother, Jennie
Sorry for making you blush as you read certain pages of Book One. Not sorry that it will happen again in Book Two
To my friend and artist, Jenny
You did it again! Thank you for bringing my ships to life!
To my friends Beth, Maria, and Cary,
Thank you for believing in Andalon!
Part I
The Gathering
Emotions of water but born of land,
Lord of beast and friend of man.
– The Oracle of Astian, 50th year of order
Prologue
The boy ran as fast as he could, ignoring the sting of both insects and humidity as he fled. His pulse drummed a rhythm that clashed with the sounds of feet pounding the dense jungle floor. Sweat beaded against dark skin as he raced headlong into the darkness, fearing his pursuers and refusing to look behind. Nothing incited terror like the witches of the rainforest.
He stumbled twice, losing ground, but quickly recovering his feet both times. Knowledge that he was the swiftest runner in his village fueled hope as he led the chase, small and nimble enough to duck below branches. He gracefully jumped over debris and felt his margin closing, ignoring the ache in his chest and daring not to slow as he fled. He refused to succumb or accept that he was overtaken.
Movement on both sides shook the foliage and Parumba braced for whatever leaped out. Instinct spurred the youth and he gracefully jumped into the air, grabbing a vine and swinging into a tree. He barely cleared the ground as two large shapes converged beneath his legs. Higher he climbed while the cats paced, biting and clawing the air. The chief’s son paused to catch his breath while watching the animals.
His heart sank at the sight of the jaguars. They circled, perhaps planning to hold him for their masters. The human forms of the beasts were far more dangerous than these and Parumba fought panic, desperate to flee before they arrived. He scanned the jungle for signs of their approach and searched his mind for a path of escape.
One of the animals stood with forepaws on the trunk and terror gripped the youth as the cat began to climb. Thinking fast Parumba closed his eyes and felt for the second beast still on the ground. He could feel the jaguar’s mind but bonding the beast would be futile. It was already claimed. He searched instead for a thread and found a tenuous strand of thought. It extended into the jungle. He severed it cleanly and immediately lashed the beast with one of his own, taking over the cat’s sentience.
The world changed as Parumba abruptly looked up at himself in the tree. His vision widened and things at a distance blurred. The other cat was climbing swiftly, almost to his position. As the jaguar he leaped as high as he could, catching the animal’s leg in his strong jaws and dragging it down. Pain shot through his body as the beast thudded down on top of him. He screamed a roar while the other whelped.
The confused beast stared back as it regained footing. Parumba lunged with a second attack and bit, trying to sink his massive teeth into her skull. Claws ripped out flesh and both hissed and scratched until one of his nails found soft tissue. His opponent moaned a bloodcurdling howl as an eye ruptured, abruptly breaking connection with her master and fleeing into the jungle. He gave chase as the animal, but the boy hopped down from his perch to flee in the opposite direction.
A third cat pounced from the underbrush and tackled the boy, claws sinking in his back and pinning him to the soft jungle floor. Soon, three humanoid creatures loomed above. Although dressed alike, he could tell that two were female and one was male. They draped their muscular bodies in animal skins and hid faces behind hooded masks the resembled the beasts they mastered.
“Ahgnut, retrieve the cats while we bind the boy.” An emotionless female voice commanded, sending the man racing into the jungle. To Parumba she said, “Someone has been showing off his magic to the other children in the village.” Shaking her head, she added, “Thankfully one of them told your father. I guess he fears us more than he loves you.”
“Lies!” the boy groaned. Anger filled Parumba and he extended his mind, attempting to sever the connection between the beast atop him and one of the shamans. He reached out with force but felt a hard kick in the ribs when he touched the link. All around him the jungle floor came to life and vines wriggled like snakes, wrapping his arms and legs until he could no longer struggle. The boy finally accepted defeat and lay still beneath the heavy weight of the animal.
The second woman, naked except for the furs of a jaguar, bent over his restrained body. She held out two tiny caterpillars with long green horns atop their heads and slid them gently into Parumba’s ear canals. He cried out as the larvae burrowed deeper into his head until they could no longer. He felt their tiny horns bite into his skin, locking them in place. The world around him muffled as he listened to his own screams.
By then Ahgnut had returned with the other jaguars. Parumba sensed the one-eyed beast and tried again to connect. He held her briefly, but his concentration broke when the caterpillars screeched and hissed in his ears. The intensity of the pain prevented his magic. Desperate, he tried to unwrap the vines that bound him, but the larvae screeched a second time. The sound did not stop until he succumbed. The humanoid creatures hauled him atop one of the jaguars and tied him securely. He could only weep as they dragged him off to their cave.
He passed out several times on the journey to their den, occasionally waking and finding himself deeper in the jungle. Each time he roused Parumba would strain against bonds or try to regain his bearings. Eventually he stopped struggling and accepted that he was a prisoner. His youthful mind raced with thoughts regarding his fate. The last of these drifted toward his father, the man who handed him over to save his village. I hate you, Father.
When they finally reached their destination, the boy lifted his head enough that he could see a dark entrance to a small cave. They dragged him inside by his feet, allowing his head to bounce against wet stone. One of the women found a crevice in the wall and a secret door swung open, revealing smooth walls that had been polished to a sheen. Inside smelled fresh and clean, unlike the musty air of the cavern.
As the door shut behind them, Parumba realized that the ceiling glowed with a strange light. He stared, marveling, until he began to see dark spots in his eyes. They hoisted the boy and slammed him down on a finely polished slab.
As the spots in front of his eyes faded, he realized that he was in a large chamber with hundreds of tables, each holding with a man, woman, child, or infant. Each had been stripped naked to accommodate strange tubing running from every opening in their bodies.
He tried to struggle when they ripped away his clothing, reaching out with his mind and causing the larvae in his ears to scream once more. Determined, he fought through the pain and untangled some of the vines that bound him. He froze when a strong hand grasped his shoulder. Something cold and sharp entered the skin of his neck and a metallic taste filled his mouth. He quickly grew dizzy, losing contact with his extremities one by one. He eventually lay paralyzed on the table, staring up at the strange lighting.
The sorcerers waited for his body to still then slid the tubes into his mouth, nose, and sensitive parts. He eventually felt the edges of his vision darken and tears streamed down both cheeks onto the slab, his last thoughts focused on his father and revenge. When sleep took over, he became another specimen in the den of the Jaguars.
Chapter One
Eusari Thorinson watched her crew load milled lumber aboard her ship. She Wolf had held up well on the voyage to Estowen’s Landing, and the heavy supplies she ferried had not strained recent repairs. It had only been a few months since dragging the hull across a reef and then aground. That had been during the infamous raid on Pirate’s Cove, the attack that deposed Lord Stefan Nevra.
At the time she had believed her ship lost, and it would have been, had it not been for her friend Sippen Yurik. But he completed the repairs in record time, restoring seaworthiness and upgrading her weapons. She Wolf had not been the only casualty in the attack, and much more lumber was necessary to restore the fleet. The little engineer had constructed three drydocks in The Cove and he and his team cranked out new vessels every three weeks.
A massive black wolf lay at her feet. Gelert growled low, alerting that someone approached from behind. She turned and greeted her uncle. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people, Shon.”
“Aye. That’s true, dearie. For what it matters, I wasn’t trying to.” He walked a wide berth around the animal, clearly cautious from a previous meeting. “You’re lost in your thoughts,” he observed, “what troubles you?”
“I was thinking about our world and how much it’s changed in such a short time.” She ran her hands along the hilt of one of her many hidden knives, toying with it nervously. She finally rested her palm along a newly made pistol resting in a holster on her hip. There was a time when all she took into battle were blades. That’s also new, she thought. Even the way we fight has changed.
Shon Wimbley nodded and touched his own pistol as if in agreement. “Will you be making another run?”
“Probably not. We’ve enough ships now to run the supplies. I need to be home for the elections.” Home. She marveled at the phrase, once so foreign to her. A word nearly as strange as “family” had been before she had met Braen Braston. “You’re sure that you won’t return?”
“No, dearie.” He strained his eyes up at the town, once abandoned and now a haven for his outlaw army. “We’ve much work if we’re to help your Northman with his war. I need to recruit and train soldiers on these.” He pointed at the rifle slung on his shoulder. “I’ll keep the mill running and make sure The Cove is replenished. You’ll need more ships for the coming wars.”
Eusari allowed a smile for her uncle. “Did you ever think you’d be on this side of the law?” The once constable answered honestly. “If it weren’t for their Falconers then I think that I wouldn’t have made the switch.” A troubled look crossed his face. “I just can’t abide by their tactics.”
His words returned her thoughts to a room littered with slabs. Atop the smooth tables slept men and women of all ages, some were mere children. She shivered at her inability to save them from the Rookery in Diaph. “I can’t believe we’re merely a farm to them.”
“Aye, and I won’t rest until we’ve found a way to free all of Andalon.”
Eusari’s eyes rarely met another’s, but she looked deep into her uncle’s. Not long ago she trusted only two living men. Now, she had more friends and family than she had ever hoped for. “Uncle Shon. I… I’m sorry that I doubted you, before.”
“Nah. Don’t worry about it, dearie. I walked into your life without warning. Trust takes time.” He knelt before Gelert. The wolf looked away, not meeting his eyes. “I see that some will take longer.”
“He remembers your deceit.”
“No, dearie. He probably senses some lingering doubt through your connection.” He watched her face. “It’s okay. You’ve grown much in the past few months and someday we’ll be family in more than name.”
Strangely, Eusari didn’t feel anger at his candid words. She stared at the deck and asked in a weak voice, “What was she like, my mother?”
Shon’s voice broke slightly. “My sister was the most giving woman I’d ever met. She was beautiful with eyes as green as yours and hair just as raven.”
“Did she love my father?”
“Of course, she did.”
“I mean, what was their relationship like? I… I can’t remember.”
Shon closed his eyes, remembering a time long before. He let a smile take over when he spoke about his friend and mentor. “Your mother loved Franque. She defied our own father to marry him without even a dowry. At the time he was a mere deputy, but he rose quickly to serve as constable of Brentway.” A tear formed in the corner of his eye as he spoke. “I loved him as much as she did, only differently. Something about him drew men to follow, kind of like your Northman.”
“I’m glad that he died before he could find her like… like that.” Eusari felt a lump form in her throat as she thought of what Skander Braston had done to them both.
“Aye. It would have broken Franque. He loved her so much.”
Eusari caught herself in the midst of vulnerability and quickly changed the subject. “Any luck finding more emotants?”
Shon shook his head with a hint of disappointment. “Nay, dearie. I’ve dispersed instigators to every town in the Empire. They’re teaching about the real work of the Falconers and their relationship to the crown.”
“And none have turned up?”
He shook his head again. “Not a one.”
“They’ll come.” She abruptly turned back toward the harbor entrance. “We’re shoving off soon, so you need to disembark.” Eusari paused then added, “Shon, take care of the children.”
“I will.”
“They’re more than air emotes. Remember that they’re children.”
Shon looked at the five teenagers on the pier, laughing without a care despite the desperate state of the world. “Their connection to the others will reach this far, you think?”
She nodded. “Samani seems to think that it will. He said that a youth in Weston contacted him all the way in Diaph. That’s roughly the same distance to The Cove.”
Shon hugged his niece and then turned to leave.
“Uncle Shon!”
With a glance over his shoulder his eyes met hers once more. “Yes, dearie?”
Speaking intimately was still difficult for Eusari. “Take care of yourself, too. Don’t try and take on the Empire by yourself. Promise me that you’ll wait for Braen.” He tipped a quick salute and walked across the brow. She watched as he slapped two of the youths on the shoulders and walked with them, laughing with comradery into the hidden village of Estowen’s Landing.
Before long her first mate reported. “Captain, She Wolf is loaded down and ready to set sail. But I warn you, our draft is low in the water. We’ll be slower than normal, even with Caroline blowing on the sails.”
Eusari nodded. Marita had stayed behind at The Cove and the crew carried a younger and less experienced emotant on this voyage. She had not been with them during the attack on Pirate’s Cove and Eusari wante
d to shield Caroline from the dangerous missions. “How low’s the draft?”
“We’re displacing five extra feet from the load.”
The captain, clad in her traditional black leathers, frowned. “That’s a lot. We’ll be considerably slower.”
“Aye. We need to be leaving before the tide runs out or we risk running aground in the channel.”
“Then make ready the sails and shove off immediately, Pete.” She smiled as her friend ambled off on his wooden peg leg. She remembered the first time they had met. Peter Longshanks had been a gunner on her original crew before she had lost her best friend and first mate, Sa’Mond. She had wanted to die after losing him, but Braen had pulled her out of despair and helped her win over her crew, still skeptical over following a woman pirate. Peter had fought alongside of her during the mutiny and remained by her side whispering wisdom all along the way.
Within an hour they cleared the channel and drifted with the wind toward the south. Pirate’s Cove lay a week away if the wind cooperated, but she expected that time to double with the added weight. Without an escort vessel She Wolf would be a sitting duck, exposed to both the elements and hostilities. Thankfully, the winter storms had ended for the season, and spring weather was more favorable for a southern voyage.
“Sail Ho!” A voice called down from the rigging, “Too far for identification!”
Eusari felt the hair on her neck bristle. This far north the ship would hail from Fjorik or one of the Imperial cities. Either way the sighting spelled trouble. Her thoughts turned to Caroline, instincts warning her to try and outrun the ship. However, She Wolf was too slow and overburdened to outpace a ship that may carry Imperial Falconers. “Hold steady on this bearing.”
Devil Jacque, the quartermaster, raised a spyglass to the horizon. “Captain, she’s Imperial, but appears to be without extra wind. Don’t suspect any birdmen.” He lowered the glass and pointed the eyepiece toward Caroline, suggesting they use the girl. “What are your orders?”
