SeaJourney (Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals Book 1)

by Alex Paul

  “Will we get there in time to fight?” Lancon Koman repeated Tyo’s question. “No, I don’t think we’ll get there in time to launch a single bomb, to be honest,” Lancon Koman said while fidgeting with the catapult sights. “Not rowing at this pace.”

  “Why are we so much slower than the other escort ships?” Tyo asked.

  “It’s our limited crew,” Koman explained. “Much of the rowing is supposed to be done by cadets. We only have a full rowing crew if we take away most of the deck guards. Which we can’t do going into battle. So we’re half-manned on the oars.”

  “The other ships are flying.” Tyo pointed. “Why don’t they just have cadets man the empty oar seats?”

  “They’re not strong enough to keep up,” Koman explained. “That’s why they row as a unit to get fit, so they don’t break pace and foul the oars. It will be years before they can match the regular crew’s pull strength.”

  “Regardless of being slow, we’ll get prize money today.” Koman looked ahead. “Though the mouth of the current around the River Zash might slow us down. I’m not sure what the tides are doing, but let’s hope they’re still going out. If they are, we can cross straight north; otherwise, we’ll have to go far out to sea to get by the river.”

  “Why, sir?” Arken interrupted.

  “If the tide was rising, the water flowing into the river would pull us into the river mouth, where we’d probably run aground on a sandbar. With the tide going out, we can safely cross the river mouth. It could be rough, though; sometimes there are standing waves as high as eight feet on the bar.”

  Koman’s explanation helped Arken recall his father’s description of the ebb current at a river mouth making bar crossings dangerous because of the breaking, standing waves. He had never seen it himself, but it was not something he looked forward to now.

  “Make ready the fore and aft catapults!” Captain Dunn yelled from the command deck. Even though they were on the roof of the foredeck building, the command deck on the stern looked down on the forward catapult.

  “Unlash arm,” Koman said. “You two cadets can relax and just watch for now. Stand here by the sighting box,” Koman added.

  The sailors at the forward catapult untied the leather straps around the catapult arm. Then Koman pulled the swivel lock pins, and the catapult twisted smoothly to the level, thanks to two wood rings that pivoted side to side and front to back. The swivels kept the catapult level, which made it deadly accurate.

  The pirates continued their attack on the Tolarian fleet, despite the approach of the three Lantish escort ships. As they drew closer, Arken could make out more details. He saw the pirate ships had surrounded four Tolarian vessels that weren’t on fire. Three Tolarian warships formed a protective triangle around the fourth Tolarian vessel, a merchant ship at the triangle’s center.

  “Why aren’t the pirates running from our escorts by now?” Saldet Tyo asked as he squinted to see. “They always run when our ships approach!”

  “They’ll run soon.” Lancon Koman sat in the catapult sighting box, a chair inside a wood barricade that protected him from volleys of arrows. He bent his lean body forward as he squinted through the sights. Since the sighting box was attached to the catapult frame, Koman stayed level while the ship moved around him with each passing wave.

  The bow of the Sea Nymph passed the southern edge of the River Zash, which was marked by a narrow point of land, where small waves peeled cleanly down an empty spit of gray sand.

  Asher tugged on Arken’s arm and whispered, “They’re busy. Let’s go to the railing and look upriver.”

  “We shouldn’t,” Arken hissed, but he followed when Asher slipped away.

  “Arken, look at those klaks.” Asher pointed up the riverbank, where the early dawn light illuminated long animals with huge mouths basking on the mud flats of the riverbank. “Twenty-five feet long at least! Their mouths remind me of the ship’s figurehead.” Asher pointed at the carving of Tildok.

  “Wait, do you see the bur?” Arken asked.

  “Where?”

  “Follow my arm.” Arken pointed to a giant bur up the riverbank. It was standing on its hind legs, its forelegs reaching into a tree. “It must be twenty feet tall!”

  “We wouldn’t survive long on shore, would we?” Asher shivered slightly.

  “That’s why we live in cities with high walls and rarely go ashore, except in large, armed parties,” Arken assured him.

  “Why are there so many birds ahead?” Asher asked. Seagulls and pelicans dove into the water ahead.

  “They’re feeding on something.” Arken leaned over.

  The ship drew closer to the birds, and then the bow crossed into a patch of inky black water. The black suddenly became a V-shape of silver.

  “It’s a school of sardines, Asher. Smell that odor?”

  “It stinks. There must be millions of them here,” Asher said.

  “Look! Those sardines must think we’re a predator above on the surface, so they turn away to escape attack, revealing their silver bellies and making the water look silver,” Arken added.

  “This is an amazing sight.” Asher looked happy to Arken, which was an improvement on worrying about dying. Arken hoped for his friend’s sake that the battle would be over before they arrived.

  The gulls and pelicans went into a feeding frenzy as the ship scared the sardines into turning and exposing their silver underbellies for an easy kill. Feathers and bird droppings rinned down on the deck from the circling birds. It amazed Arken that none of the birds tangled themselves in the mast or rigging as they hovered and dove while squawking and screaming in excitement.

  “Keep your eyes on the battle and not these birds and fish.” Saldet Tyo came up from behind and grabbed their tunics to pull them to attention. “You’ll get in trouble with Lancon Koman if you don’t.” He cleared his nose over the railing after scolding them.

  “But he’s busy with the catapult and doesn’t need us.” Asher pointed at Koman, who was still absorbed in the catapult’s sighting.

  “Don’t argue with me, cadet! Arken, teach your Tolarian friend to obey orders, or he’ll face the lash.” Tyo’s face turned red. “I’m trying to help you two stay out of trouble.”

  “Yes, sir.” Arken felt angry at Asher as they followed Tyo back to the catapult. “Asher, you can’t argue with a superior officer like that,” Arken whispered. “Even though you’re not in our military, you can’t break our rules.”

  “Look, our escort ships are almost within catapult range!” Lancon Koman said. “Now the pirates will run; that, or be set afire.”

  “I wonder who is on board our Tolarian ships,” Asher wondered aloud, his voice breaking. “I might know some of them.”

  Arken touched his bow and checked that the quiver was solidly strapped to his chest but ready to drop. Then he felt the handle of his sword for the twentieth time.

  He couldn’t believe he was carrying a real sword into battle! Eight years of training since the age of six: sparring, learning tactics of warfare, harse riding and archery as well as shooting a bow from the archer’s box on a war toth as it swung its great tusks from side to side like a scythe; learning the skills of seamanship; and rowing had all prepared him for this moment. He realized he didn’t care if Asher was scared; he was eager for this battle and was now hoping they would see action.

  Dear God Kal, please let me survive the day, Arken prayed. And Asher and Talya. At least Stroebel had assured him he would stay safe, Arken remembered.

  A smoke trail shot up from the largest pirate ship and dropped in an arc toward one of their Lantish escort ships. In seconds, fire erupted on its deck.

  “I think the Tookans have Mork’s fire!” shouted the lookout. Mork’s fire, Lanth’s secret weapon, was a sticky gel that could burn under water. It had always defeated their enemies before.

  Arken looked up and was surprised to see Talya in the bird’s nest. She sat next to the regular lookout, an old man with white hair. That was
her assignment in battle, of course, her reward for having the sharpest eyes. But he worried she would now be exposed to bow fire when they engaged the enemy.

  “It did look like the pirates launched a fused bomb,” Saldet Tyo exclaimed in the stunned silence that followed the lookout’s words. “But perhaps they don’t contain Mork’s fire.”

  “They can’t!” Lancon Koman sat back in the catapult sighting chair and furrowed his brows. “Tookans have never had Mork’s fire.” Koman shouted up at the lookout. “What did you see?”

  “A wisp of smoke catapulted from the largest Tookan ship, sir. Then, a moment later, our warship was burning!”

  “Surely they don’t have Mork’s fire,” Koman muttered. “You saw it too, Tyo?”

  “Yes, sir.” Tyo nodded.

  “This could be bad,” Koman muttered.

  The Sea Nymph maintained its steady pace, and Arken estimated they were still more than three thousand legs from the fight. Arken’s mouth was dry, and his pulse pounded in his ears as he watched the battle.

  The two Lantish escort ships untouched by fire launched their catapults at the Tookan ships. Both bombs made of ceramic jars filled with Mork’s fire found their target, and two of the eight pirate ships were soon fighting deck fires where the round, ceramic jars full of the tarry Mork’s fire had burst open and been ignited by a fuse.

  Arken had taken a class on Mork’s fire. Unfortunately for the explorer Mork, soon after discovering the black goo, he also discovered that it burned easily and that water did not extinguish the blaze. The previous King of Lanth had named their new super weapon in Mork’s honor at his funeral.

  “Yes! A hit by one of our ships!” Koman yelled, with a broad smile. He shook his fist.

  The remaining six pirate ships turned to face the two attacking Lantish vessels that were not on fire. The Tolarian merchant ship took advantage of the Lantish attack and fled south with one of the Tolarian military ships toward Arken’s ship, leaving two Tolarian ships to continue the battle alongside their Lantish allies.

  But the largest pirate ship had two catapults, just like the Sea Nymph. The stern catapult opened fire on the Tolarian merchant ship as it tried to escape by rowing away. A bomb landed on the Tolarian merchant with devastating accuracy, and flames began to lick the stern command deck. Despite the fire, the ship continued its escape south.

  “Two Tolarian ships approaching: a battle vessel and a merchant. The merchant is on fire!” Talya announced from the bird’s nest, formally confirming what they could all see.

  The Sea Nymph continued rowing toward the battle. Arken and the others watched in horror as the Tookan ships rained catapult fire down on the Tolarian ships and the three Lantish ships that had raced to the rescue.

  “Why are all our ships firing so poorly?” Lancon Koman sounded upset.

  “Perhaps they are rushing their shots because they realize the Tookans aren’t helpless and are firing back,” Tyo answered. “We’ve never had to fire at an enemy that could attack us with Mork’s fire.”

  Arken thought that Tyo must be right, because the catapult fire from the Tookan ship was deadly, while the Tolarian and Lantish ships kept missing as their rudder men tried to swerve their boats away from the Mork’s fire bombs.

  In moments, the rescuers needed rescuing as flames raced across all the Lantish escorts and the Tolarian ships they had joined in battle. Arken couldn’t believe that these mighty warships that had been traveling with them on their SeaJourney for the past two weeks were on fire.

  “Why aren’t our ships putting the fires out with sand?” Asher lamented. “Isn’t it fairly simple?”

  “They don’t have enough.” Lancon Koman’s voice broke with emotion. “We only carry enough sand on our coastal escort ships to deal with sparks and spills. Our ships don’t carry the huge quantities needed to extinguish a fire started by a broken bomb because we’ve never used these coastal escorts in battle with the Tolarians.”

  “But the Tookans have plenty of sand?” Asher asked Koman. He spoke with a tone of disbelief.

  “The Tookans knew they would be battling us, so I’m sure they have more than enough sand,” Koman confirmed. “You can see they’ve at least reduced the fires we started on their ships.” Koman shook his head and spoke in an uncertain tone. “And now it’s too late to put sand on board our ships.”

  “It doesn’t look as if the Tolarians have enough sand either.” Arken pointed. “They’re burning just as badly.” Muffled screams from Lantish and Tolarian sailors carried far across the water. Mork’s fire had splashed on their skins and they could not remove it. The screams stopped as the men dove into the sea, even though it did no good; the Mork’s fire clinging to their bodies would continue to burn under water. Arken had heard of this in school; it was just an instinctive reaction to jump into the water, though it had no effect.

  The Tookan pirate ships swung south toward them. The Tookans had fires on only two of their cutters, which left five of the cutters and the single large ship in pursuit of the Tolarian fleet. And now the Tolarian fleet had been reduced to a merchant ship on fire and a sleek warship. Now only two Tolarian ships remained afloat as they rowed toward the Sea Nymph and one, the merchant, was on fire. Incredibly, all the other Tolarian ships and the three Lantish escort ships that had sailed to the rescue lay behind in flames.

  The pirate’s pace drums boomed across the narrowing gap between them and the Sea Nymph. The oar splashes from the Tookan ships made a rainbow mist in the early morning sunlight.

  Even at this range, Arken could make out the pirates lining the ships’ railings. They screamed and smashed their swords against shields in time with their pace drums as they gradually closed the distance to the Sea Nymph.

  “We should turn and flee,” Asher shouted. “We’re rowing toward a battle that has been lost.” Everyone on board must have thought the same thing, for all eyes on board turned to Captain Dunn.

  CHAPTER 18

  THE TOOKANS PURSUE

  These are Yolanta’s ships attacking us, the same ones we eluded when we fled Baltak! We crossed the Circle Sea in excellent time. It was impossible for them to hug the coast, sail around the Circle Sea, and get here before us. They must have come straight across, which means they have compasses, for, without it, ships row in circles until the crews starve. I am guessing the Amarrat king gave compasses to Yolanta. That evil Amarrat king has loosed these Tookan butchers on us to steal the Necklace of Tol. Our only hope is the Lantish fleet we see to the south, sailing to our rescue.

  —Diary of Princess Sharmane of Tolaria

  Yolanta leaned toward his prey like a dog straining to be loosed from its leash. With his thighs pressed against the bow rail, he felt each oar pull as his warship, the Reaper, surged across the oily, flat, morning sea.

  His men shared his thirst for a kill; those not rowing lined the bow railings and vented their blood lust in a crashing of sword on shield in time with the pace drum. Yolanta’s blood was on fire with the scent of complete victory. They had just crushed their enemies with Mork’s fire. Now there were only two Tolarian ships left to catch, and one held the Necklace of Tol.

  His only regret was that he had left two of his ships burning behind. They would return after the battle to help his ships if they were still afloat, but for now he needed every man and every ship to win the necklace.

  Water sparkled from the Tolarian ships’ oars and made rainbows in the sunrise light as they rowed south. The two green-hulled Tolarian ships, built for rowing with large slave crews and long, thin hulls, effortlessly extended the gap between them and Yolanta’s fleet.

  “Curse Tol and the Tolarians!” he muttered. “They are escaping us. We can’t row as fast as they can. We’re designed for sailing!” He pounded his fist into the railing. “Back to your posts, men,” shouted Yolanta. “It’s going to be a long day. Take nourishment and tend to your wounds. Be ready to fight when we finally catch them under sail.”

  He glanced at Bru
mbal and spoke privately. “If we do catch them. They’ll have such a lead on us by the time the wind blows, we’ll have lost the race. When it gets dark, they’ll escape far out to sea.”

  “I wish sometimes the world and the wind were not so predictable,” Brumbal said as he watched the distant ships.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, sunrise is always at six, the coastal onshore winds don’t blow until ten every morning, the sun is overhead exactly at noon, the wind stops blowing every day at four in the afternoon, and the sun sets at six. Every day! Then we have night meal and, soon after, the mist gathers and rinfall begins at midnight and lasts until three in the morning.”

  “That’s the way the world has always been,” Yolanta said. “How else could it be? How could that change?”

  “I don’t know, perhaps irregular winds so that right now a wind would come up and allow us to catch our enemies?”

  “You’re dreaming, Brumbal. I thought you had a sensible head on your shoulders,” Yolanta scolded him. “What would you call this wind that came up?”

  “A storm, maybe?”

  Yolanta laughed. Sometimes he wondered if Brumbal spent too much time with the soothsayers and Nander shamans that haunted the back alleys of Forla. They were supposed to be able to see the future, but most thought that to be nonsense. Though it was impressive that the king of the Amarrats believed so much in the power of the Necklace of Tol that he had invaded Tolaria and sent Yolanta to capture it.

  Yolanta scratched his chin and wondered if the necklace really could give its wearer visions of the future. Though it didn’t matter. He was just hired to retrieve it.

  “Sir, the fire on the second Tolarian vessel is growing.” Brumbal squinted against the morning sun. “I wonder if they’re going to have to stop and transfer men and cargo to that Lantish ship that never joined the battle.”