Shipwrecked: Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals, #2

By Alex Paul

As war looms like an evil shadow over the world… Arken Freeth must save his crewmates' lives as they traverse a deadly jungle filled with massive wolves and sabertooth cats.

In the age before the Great Flood, 13,000 years ago, a new alliance between the nations of Lanth and Tolaria is threatened by pyramid-building Amarrats out to conquer and enslave the world. 

Fourteen-year-old Arken Freeth is swept up in the conflict when his Lantish Military Academy training ship is attacked by pirates and runs ashore. He and six classmates are the only survivors of the shipwreck, and they struggle to live in a jungle filled with saber-tooth cats, dire wolves, mammoths, and mastodons. 

Arken has salvaged a necklace from the wreck--a necklace that bestows the gift of prophecy. If Arken can get it to the King of Lanth, he will turn the tide of war. 

SeaJourney kicks off an epic and fantastical adventure that is a great read for all ages. 

*Start reading Alex Paul's adventure series today with Book 1, SeaJourney. You can also sign up for Alex's newsletter at his Arken Freeth website to hear the latest on forthcoming books in the series.*

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alex Paul
• Release date: Oct 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519914040

Book preview

Praise of Shipwrecked

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 award-winning 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

Shipwrecked

Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals

Book Two

By

Alex Paul

Map of the Circle Sea

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: The Smoker’s Feast

Chapter 2: The Tookan Pursuit

Chapter 3: Mosquito Jungle

Chapter 4: Blackwater Swamp

Chapter 5: The Swordtooth

Chapter 6: Yolanta Enraged

Chapter 7: The Tookans Return

Chapter 8: The Tree Fort

Chapter 9: The Jalag Attacks

Chapter 10: The First Hunt

Chapter 11: Hunting the Picar

Chapter 12: Gut and Skin

Chapter 13: A Leap of Faith

Chapter 14: Picar Feast

Chapter 15: A Hungry Bur

Chapter 16: The Death of a Sloh

Chapter 17: The Cadets Captured

Chapter 18: The Attack

Chapter 19: The Tookan Prisoners

Chapter 20: Arken’s Torture

Chapter 21: March to the Sea

Chapter 22: Rescue

Epilogue

Glossary

Author’s Note

You’ll find a glossary of foreign words in the novel’s back matter. Just click on any of the Lantish or Nander words underlined in blue and it will take you to the word in the glossary. If you click on the back button of your e-reader or e-reader app, you’ll go back to the page you were on. Enjoy!

From The Earth’s Secret History: Arken Freeth Scrolls

by Arduel

I am the last descendant of the Knowledge Keepers of Lanth who survived the near destruction of Earth by Marduk and the Great Flood many generations ago. Those who came before me wrote of that destruction of civilization. I now set down my own words on this parchment before burying all our writings in an urn in the desert north of the Amarrat’s Great Pyramid.

My ancestors had scientific instruments developed in the years long after the time of Arken Freeth but before Marduk. They observed the arrival of Marduk and the near destruction of Earth and recorded these observations. We have kept these writings secret because those in power since the Great Flood do not want the world to know the truth. They destroyed the copies of our writings kept in the library of Alexandria. They kill any who dare speak the truth. I hide these parchments in the hope that someday truth seekers will find the writings of my ancestors and tell the world.

The Great Flood was caused by Marduk, the Destroyer.

Though hard to believe, my ancestors said their instruments allowed them to watch Marduk’s journey. Marduk was part of a star that exploded far away in the heavens. By chance, Marduk swept past the planets of our solar system, tipping over Uranus so it spins backward, destroying the planet between Mars and Jupiter by pulling it apart, and almost ripping Mars apart while stealing its water and leaving it looking like a child’s spinning top.

Marduk left Mars in ruins and flew on towards Earth, getting brighter and brighter each day until, near the end, it was visible in daylight. Then Marduk almost hit the Earth

The Earth once had a different North Star before Marduk flew past. Marduk came so close, and its gravity was so strong, that it tipped the Earth part way over on its side. Before Marduk, the axis of rotation was perpendicular to our orbit around the Sun, so there were always twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of night everywhere except the poles. At the poles, the sun never set, it just moved around the horizon.

But Marduk left the earth tipped over enough to make summer in one hemisphere, when one pole faces the sun, while it is winter in the other hemisphere because that pole points away from the Sun. To this day, Earth is the only planet in the solar system that spins tipped over, proof that Marduk flew so close.

The pull of Marduk’s gravity as it flew by raised mountain ranges and lakebeds in a single day, while other land masses full of cities and people dropped below sea level and disappeared forever beneath the seas. Marduk lifted dirt and rocks and many animals up into the sky. Whole herds of toth, ban, anlop, hamps, and ton were raised far above the Earth until they froze instantly. Then they crashed back to Earth as Marduk flew on and its gravity released them. Marduk lifted whole oceans, and when they fell back to Earth, the Great Flood gouged out deep basins and canyons in a single day.

But Marduk was not done dealing out its misery and disaster with the Great Flood. The seas of Mars had been pulled from that planet and those seas followed Marduk as ice crystals through space until much of the ice was captured by our gravity and fell to Earth, causing months of rain. When all the water from Mars had fallen, the skies cleared and sunshine finally made its way down to light up a world piled miles high with ice and mud and stones. Then Earth turned cold, with winters never seen before.

The last remnants of man—barely any survived—emerged from high mountain caves that had offered protection. Some, like my ancestors, kept the ways of civilization and knowledge, but most soon lost their skills and descended into savagery. The survivors who rebuilt civilization told stories of what once had been—stories of the Earth they remembered, though the memory grew fainter with each generation until, eventually, it was only a story of a lost paradise.

Yet Earth truly was once a paradise before Marduk brought the storms of winter and the heat of summer. Each day was fair and warm and there were no storms of rain with high winds. Instead, gentle dew fell everywhere each night and nourished all the plants. Each day the sun shone without fail and the plants produced two bountiful crops a year.

In that world of lush plains and fertile valleys, man built wonderful high-walled cities that kept everyone safe from the ravages of the great cats and giant bears. And from those great cities, men set forth in great ships that sailed the seas with trade.

I am Arduel, last of the Knowledge Keepers of Lanth, the last descendant of my ancestors who survived Marduk and the Great Flood. I was a scholar in the library of Alexandria, but now I flee my pursuers with these precious scrolls to bury them by the Great Pyramid of the Amarrats before I am caught and killed. I hope someday my words are found and read.

The city-state of Lanth, of which I am the last descendant, bred the world’s finest warriors. Of all those great warriors, one was the greatest of all, for he saved Lanth from certain ruin. I have attached my writing to the ancient scroll that tells his story. It is my hope that the forces which helped Arken defeat Lanth’s enemies will protect what I have buried and inspire those who follow; inspire them with courage as they read 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 Smoker’s Feast

We are under attack! Last night we heard the falls of the river Zash from our ship’s anchorage and our hearts filled with joy. Landfall at long last after fleeing Baltak in flames from the Amarrat siege. Our night’s joy at successfully crossing the Circle Sea became morning’s nightmare when eight Tookan pirate ships sailed on the ebb tide from the river mouth and attacked our smaller Tolarian fleet.

—Diary of Princess Sharmane of Tolaria

Help! I fell in!

The splash and scream below tore Ord from sleep. Where was he? The branches around his chest told him he wasn’t at home in the safety of the Water Cave. He remembered that he had decided to run away, so he spent the night sleeping high up in the trees.

He reached for his heavy, flint-tipped spear.

Throw him a line. The current is taking him away!

Ord looked down through the tree branches. The voices coming from below were speaking Lantish. He leaned to the right to see the river, which threw him off balance. He barely caught himself. The thin branches swayed but held, saving him from plunging to his death. His spear fell out of his grasp, and then his gastag rope tightened. Nanders always tied their spears to a nearby branch at night to make sure they didn’t fall.

Firstlight revealed the No-furs gathered below as Ord pulled his spear close. Humans, Ord corrected himself. That’s what they call themselves, No-fur in the Nander tongue.

Ord had heard shouting just before dark the night before after he had run away from home. The eight water huts—no, ships, he corrected himself—had anchored along the river shore only a few milts from the Water Cave. He had decided to lash himself high up in a tree to sleep during the night and see what these men would do in the morning. If they were slavers, he would forget about being a fourteen-year-old runaway and go warn the other Nanders.

Here’s a rope! shouted the man on deck as he tossed a rope to the man overboard. Someone help me. Man overboard, he screamed. Ord watched the No-fur pull on the rope after the one in the water grabbed it. The current swung the man downriver until the rope went tight.

"Help me pull! A klak is coming," the man holding the rope shouted to two others—sailors, Ord remembered—as they came up on the deck.

Ord looked for the crescent-moon-shaped ripple on the surface. Klaks were terrible. Nanders hated the water. They didn’t swim and never got close to riverbanks because klaks would lurk near the surface and leap out to drag Nanders in to their deaths.

There it is! That klak is coming fast.

The No-furs saw it too. The three men strained on the line as they drew the man in the water close to the deck.

I have his hand. Come help me pull him on deck, one of the men said as he reached over the rail to grab the man’s hand.

But before anyone else could help pull, the bumpy, green and black wrinkled hide of the klak’s head lifted from the dark water, the four-foot-long mouth opened, and the long, toothy jaws embraced the sailor’s side. His scream rang out through the jungle. Monkeys chattered and scolded while birds squawked and took flight. The scream stopped as quickly as it had started.

The sailor who had grabbed the hand of the man in the water suddenly fell backward. At the same moment, a plume of water rose from the klak as it dove with its victim below the surface.

Gone. Another sailor had rushed to the railing and looked into the river. He’s gone!

He belongs to Cron now, another added.

I almost had him. The sailor who had fallen backward was still lying on deck. I had his hand! I just wasn’t strong enough to lift him. His voice sounded sad, like the wailing of a she-Nander for her mate when he failed to return from a toth hunt.

Ord searched the water for movement but saw nothing.

Don’t blame yourself. A large, dark-haired sailor had come up on deck too late to help. Barkal has only himself to blame. He was always too clumsy.

The others said nothing as they peered into the still water where their friend had disappeared.

Cheer up. Prepare for battle, the dark-haired sailor shouted. There’s gold and treasure enough on those Tolarian ships beyond the river mouth to make all of us wealthy gentlemen and owners of country estates. Instead of moping about Barkal, ready the ship for sea.

"Officer Brumbal is right. The Nanders have no idea we’re here, the man who had fallen backward to the deck said about the dark-haired man. The man stood. We will all be wealthy with gold in our pockets by nightfall."

Gold! Ord’s father had told him about the No-furs and their obsession with gold. Father had even shown some gold to him and said that men were willing to die for the shiny metal, despite the fact it was not food. The No-furs behaved oddly, and he decided they looked funny to him as well. Where a thin layer of soft, short, golden hair covered Ord’s body, as it did all Nanders, the No-furs had very little hair on their bodies. Though taller than Nanders, No-furs had only a quarter of their strength. As a result, the No-furs had to work together to overcome their weaknesses.

Look! Brumbal shouted as he pointed up at Ord. Do you see him? A Nander up there in the trees. Grab your bows and kill him before he can bring more of his tribe to attack us.

Ord realized with a shock that the men had seen him.

Two sailors grabbed bows and arrows from a box on the deck, but Ord had been warned. He twisted back, hiding himself behind cover. He untied his gastag leather rope that had held him to the high limbs during the night and dropped down from the limb just as an arrow flew over his head.

Father was right, Ord thought. Learning Lantish has saved my life already!

Shock and fear made his legs tremble as he continued climbing down. He stopped when he found a place where he would be concealed by branches and leaves and watched the No-furs as they ran about and shouted while pushing long wooden poles through the ship’s sides and into the water.

One of the sailors lowered his bow. Do you still see him?

No, I’ve lost him, another replied.

Don’t worry about him. We’re leaving now, anyway. The No-furs put down their bows and gave up looking for him. They worked together with purpose as the wooden poles began splashing the water at the same moment. The ships slid away from shore beneath Ord’s tree limb and moved into the river. He realized the wooden poles somehow pushed the ships across the water.

As he kept himself hidden from the ship’s view, Ord wondered if these No-furs were slavers. But if these were slavers, why were they leaving without taking Nander captives? Many on the ship were putting on metal clothing. Father had told him about this clothing that could stop a spear.

If they were leaving, Ord realized there was no point in warning his Nander tribe in the Water Cave. They wouldn’t believe him if he couldn’t prove the No-furs had been here. Instead, they’d think he was trying to scare them, lying to get on their good side so he wouldn’t be punished for running away.

The ships disappeared behind a bend in the river. Ord decided to follow the ships by running the treeway along the river. He would see what the No-furs did next. If they didn’t leave, then he’d tell the tribe.

He coiled up his gastag leather rope while keeping one end tied to the hole formed in the end of the spear handle. He put the rope over one shoulder, and then he grabbed his spear and headed off, climbing down the branches until he reached the heavy, interlocking limbs of the giant oaks that formed the treeway. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but he had no time to eat. He also didn’t want to carry the heavy weight while he tried to follow the ships down the river.

He could come back later for the last of the nuts and cooked meat he had carried from the cave in a gastag leather bag. And if the No-furs left, he could continue with his plan to run away to the northern tribe.

Dokla’s tribe to the north of the Zash river would take him in, especially if he never told anyone there that he spoke the hated Lantish language of the No-furs. He would never give his people a reason to hate him again. He ran easily along the treeways as he followed the ships downriver. Despite his hunger he did not fatigue as he followed the ships, for he was a Nander, a lord of Tonlot’s forest realm.

***

Cadets Arken Freeth and Asher d’Will jumped into the sea just before the giant sharrk’s mouth swallowed Lancon Koman and the stern of the doomed longboat. Screams followed Arken into the water to be replaced by the underwater sound of bitten bone and cracking timbers. His pack pulled him down into the warm water as he fought to reach the surface. Holding a bow in one hand and having the quiver of arrows attached to his chest didn’t make him any lighter, either. He was pushed and tossed by the thrust of the sharrk’s powerful tail as it swept past behind him. Screams greeted him as his head emerged from the water, and he took a welcome breath.

The sixty-foot-long sharrk swam toward shore. It was called a smoker because the mist rising from its dorsal fin looked like smoke when it swam fast. The smoker headed toward shore with the half-longboat protruding from its massive mouth.

Sailors and cadets who had jumped clear were swimming for shore through wooden debris and floating supplies.

Arken spied Asher’s head bobbing along the surface a few feet away. Asher, swim this way! he shouted as he pushed his right arm through his longbow’s string, running it over his chest to keep the bow on his back so he could swim more easily. He had to kick hard to keep his pack and arrow quiver from pulling him down. He was glad they’d been ordered to remove armor when the captain decided to abandon ship.

If I was wearing that I’d be dead by now, he thought.

I can’t swim. My left shoulder hurts, Asher sputtered as he barely managed to keep his head above water. Help me!

Arken fought the panic that told him to leave Asher and swim to shore because he was barely able to stay afloat himself, and they were sharing the ocean with a giant sharrk intent on eating every survivor of the sea battle they had just lost.

Calming himself, Arken pulled his short sword from his belt scabbard and released it to the deep. He immediately floated higher in the water as he swam back and grabbed Asher’s tunic.

I’ve got you. Arken began side-stroking while holding Asher’s head above the surface. He couldn’t leave his blood brother.

At least my right arm works. Asher paddled and kicked on his side as well. Should I take off my pack? It’s so heavy.

No, you’ll need it to live if we reach shore, Arken insisted. Drop your sword, though. That’s weighing you down.

You’re right, Asher said. After discarding his sword, though, Arken saw they were falling behind their fellow sailors and cadets in the water. He glanced back at the burning hulk of the Sea Nymph, their glorious ocean home for the last two weeks on SeaJourney and their first training voyage after graduating from the Academy.

Now the Sea Nymph was a wreck run aground on a sandbar and set afire by the burning Tookan ship that had rammed it. The proud blue- and brown-striped sail, the pattern used on all Lantish military ships, lay draped over the bow where the falling mast had left it. The fierce, painted dragon’s head at the peak of the Sea Nymph’s bow—the carving of Tildok, the sea monster god—had poked through the sail. It looked sad and defeated, as it lay tipped to one side.

The rest of the Tookan fleet rowed toward them. There were no allied ships left in the water. The survivors of the Sea Nymph, the last of the Lantish fleet, were on their own.

"Gart, Narval, help me save Asher. His arm is injured." Their two fellow cadets were swimming not far ahead, desperately struggling like the others to reach the safety of shore. Neither boy slowed or looked back, though Arken was sure they had heard him.

He couldn’t believe they wouldn’t save Asher. Hadn’t they heard that Asher was heir to the Tolarian throne? Gart and Narval were fellow nobles; surely they didn’t think a prince could be casually abandoned to the open sea.

Arken tried to keep his head above water as he swam, but seawater kept splashing into his nose and mouth, making him cough and struggle to catch his breath. The bow, quiver, and pack all added weight. Yet there was nothing he could do but keep pulling Asher with all his might.

Arken wished that he was bigger and stronger. He and Asher were the two smallest cadets on this year’s SeaJourney, and even Arken’s strength from his Nander blood did not seem to be helping. At least Asher was a bit smaller than him.

The giant smoker had dropped the half-longboat it had kept in its mouth and turned toward the open sea. These giant sharrks rarely attacked a ship, but they were merciless when it came to men caught in open water. Its mouth was taller than a grown man. The smoker dove as it swam toward them, and Arken was sure they were doomed. He kept paddling and said nothing to Asher, who hadn’t seen the sharrk dive.

Kal, please save us this day, Arken prayed.

A scream erupted from behind. Arken looked back to see a sailor plunge from view.

Asher, grab this wood, Arken gasped as his head bumped into a plank. Asher grabbed it with his good arm while Arken kicked and paddled for both of them. Water stopped filling Arken’s nose, and he began to catch up with the others.

They were thirty legs from shore when the water boiled up around them.

Why is the water doing that? Asher looked around in terror.

Keep swimming. Arken’s Nander blood gave a sense of smell strong enough to detect the smoker’s foul odor in the bubbles swelling up from below. The smoker’s powerful tail was beneath them, pushing the water upward. Any second it would grab them. Arken could barely kick as fear paralyzed him. What was the point of struggling now?

Then the water swelled up ahead of them as the giant, six-foot-tall dorsal fin rose from the water and headed toward shore. But it had little room before reaching the shoreline, so the huge creature swam parallel to the beach before heading out to open sea. It wasn’t coming after them!

Swim! Arken shouted. It was almost as if the smoker had decided he and Asher were so easy to catch that it could chase a faster swimmer out to sea and return in plenty of time to consume them as well. Whatever reason the smoker had for not coming after them, Arken knew this was their last chance as they drew closer to shore.

The sound of breaking surf grew louder. Several cadets had already reached the white, sandy beach, and they were staggering up the steep, soft sand.

Come on, Asher. Nearly there!

So tired. Asher had managed to get his left arm on the plank and was now paddling with his right arm to push them faster.

Arken strained as hard as he could, kicking and paddling with his right arm. Suddenly, a wave lifted them up and knocked them from the piece of wood and plunged them below the surface.

They floated toward shore underwater until Arken paddled to the surface with Asher in tow. Asher had lost consciousness and become a dead weight, and it took all of Arken’s strength to paddle shoreward with Asher’s limp body.

Boys on the beach began screaming. Arken looked around. Although the others were close, none came to help. Instead they all pointed behind Arken and out to sea. The water from the last wave rushed out to deeper water. It tugged at Arken and Asher, trying to pull them back into the ocean, but Arken refused to let go.

Arken’s body felt like it was made of lead. He could barely move his arms and legs as he tried to swim. His breath came in rasping gasps of air, more like cries for help than breathing.

Another wave swelled up from behind, promising to push them toward the beach. The beach was close, but the bottom was steep. Arken reached for the bottom and felt it with his foot, but as Arken looked back and pulled on Asher, who was now floating on his back unconscious in the water, the smoker’s nose loomed above the face of the oncoming wave. The upper row of teeth rose higher and higher above the water. Suddenly, something hit Arken’s feet and pushed him violently toward shore.

It’s the lower jaw of the sharrk’s mouth, Arken thought.

Arken was pushed sideways by the sharrk’s mouth as he maintained his grip on Asher’s tunic. Arken tried to pull Asher toward shore, but he was too slow, and Asher’s lower legs began to float into the giant sharrk’s mouth! Asher was floating with his legs just inside a cave entrance. But it was not a cave; it was a beached smoker’s wide-open mouth.

***

Ord gasped. He had watched the sea battle from dawn until mid-morning from the safety of a high oak tree close to shore. Finally, the ships with the red sails, the ships he’d seen in the river at daybreak, had won the battle.

The survivors from the burning ships with the blue- and brown-striped sails had tried to reach shore by boat or swimming. But a smoker’s great fin had appeared and Ord watched in fascination as, one by one, the boats and swimmers vanished into the smoker’s mouth.

The only survivors who had made shore were a few young No-furs. He was not sure of their ages.

He gasped as the smoker beached itself trying to catch one of the last swimmers. Ord couldn’t believe the size of the great fish or its enormous mouth. The tiny No-fur boy floating inside the mouth was as good as dead.