The Toth Hunter: Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals, #3

By Alex Paul

Arken learns more about the secrets of his heritage and discovers the strengths it offers will help him to earn a place of leadership among his grandmother's people.

Arken Freeth and Asher, the future king of Tolaria, find themselves trapped in the Nanders' Water Cave as they await the recovery of Arken's love, Talya. 

While living among the Nanders, Arken earns the respect of the tribe as he hunts the deadly jalag and massive toth with the tribe. But Arken, Asher, and Talya soon anger the wife and son of the tribe's leader, Jen. If Arken does not accept Jen's challenge to the death, all their lives will be in jeopardy. 

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: 9781519958532

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 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

The Toth Hunter

Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals

Book Three

by

Alex Paul

Map of the Circle Sea

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Escape

Chapter 2: The Missing Necklace

Chapter 3: The Water Cave

Chapter 4: The Darkling Curse

Chapter 5: Death Threat

Chapter 6: Asher’s Anger

Chapter 7: Gart and the Tookan King

Chapter 8: The Near Beheading of the Nander Queen

Chapter 9: Gart’s Betrayal

Chapter 10: Morning at the Great Cave

Chapter 11: Yolanta Flees

Chapter 12: Life with the Nanders

Chapter 13: The Angry She-Nander

Chapter 14: The Gastag Hunt

Chapter 15: The Open Sea

Chapter 16: Fleeing the Hynas

Chapter 17: Voyage to Situn

Chapter 18: Hunting for Boolong Trees

Chapter 19: Toola Training

Chapter 20: Yolanta Reaches Situn

Chapter 21: Arken Kills a Toth

Chapter 22: Yolanta Flees Situn

Chapter 23: Initiation

Chapter 24: Jen’s Death Challenge

Chapter 25: Arken Accepts

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!

Introduction

From The Earth’s Secret History: Arken Freeth Scrolls handed down to Knowledge Keeper Arduel

by Arduel

I am the last descendant of the Knowledge Keepers of Lanth who survived the near destruction of Earth by Marduk and the 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 flew toward Earth, getting brighter and brighter each day until, near the end, it was visible in daylight. Then Marduk almost hit the Earth.

Before Marduk, Earth had a different North Star and there were always twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of night everywhere. Without summer or winter, many crops bore fruit year round and the weather was always the same. But Marduk came so close, its pull so strong, it tipped the poles enough to make summer and winter. And the pull of Marduk’s gravity as it flew by raised mountain ranges and lakebeds in a single day while other land masses dropped below sea level and disappeared. 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 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 they followed Marduk as ice crystals through space until much of the ice 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.

Earth truly was once a paradise. Each day was fair and warm. Each night when the moon shone there was light enough to walk, for the moon was closer and therefore larger in the sky. There were no storms of rain or snow anywhere except the poles. Instead, gentle dew fell each night that nourished all the plants, and each day the sun shone without fail. In that world of lush plains and fertile valleys, man once built wonderful cities, high-walled against the ravages of the great cats and giant bears. Great ships 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 books to bury them before I am caught and killed. I hope someday my words are found and read.

The city-state of Lanth bred the world’s finest warriors. Of all those great warriors, one was the greatest of all, for he saved Lanth from certain ruin. This scroll tells his story, the story of Arken Freeth, the greatest warrior of Lanth.

CHAPTER 1

ESCAPE

The golden-haired Nander ran tirelessly along the jungle trail, the unconscious body of a young No-fur girl nestled in his massive arms, her blonde ponytail bobbing against his elbow with each step. A smaller Nander ran close behind, his breath rasping hard from the burden of carrying a dead Nander bull on his right shoulder. He stumbled on roots and rough spots in the trail, thrown off balance by the dead Nander’s arms flopping from side to side.

Two Nander bulls followed, both carrying heavy, flint-tipped Nander spears. Their heads turned constantly from side to side, watching for predators or looking back for pursuing pirates. Ord, the youngest Nander, ran behind these two bulls of his tribe. He ran easily, being younger and lighter than the others.

Two No-fur boys clad in Lantish Academy cadet tunics followed the Nanders. Their breath came in racking sobs of pain. Though fit for humans, neither could match the torrid pace set by the Nanders, the lords of Tonlot’s jungle.

We’re free, Arken gasped as he looked back at his friend, Asher. Sweat ran down Asher’s face and matted his curly brown hair against his skull. Though he had no fat on his body and was the same age and only a little shorter than Arken, Asher was breathing even harder than Arken as he ran.

Arken had wanted to scream We’re free! to inspire Asher to keep up, but experience had taught them to whisper because loud voices could attract swordtooths or lins with deadly results.

The very thought of freedom refreshed Arken just as drinking cool water from the black-water swamp had revived him only days ago when they were prisoners of the Tookans. Freedom, and seeing Red Beard die on the beach with a Nander spear buried in his chest just moments ago, turned the pain of running pain into pleasure. They were going home. They would not be sold as slaves to the Amarrats.

"We are free! Hail, Lanth," Asher replied quietly. He looked a sorry sight because his white Academy tunic had become a gray blend of dirt, blood and salt stains from days of sweating and drying without washing. Asher’s sandals were missing as well, taken by the Tookans to slow them if they tried to escape. Asher winced in pain when his feet hit sharp objects on the trail.

Hail, Lanth, Arken repeated. He would have smashed his right fist against his chest in his country’s salute, but his arms were loaded with weapons.

Arken’s short sword hung from his belt and bumped his left thigh with each stride. He carried two extra short swords and three spears in his arms and they clanked as he ran like dull cow bells in a meadow. Scooping up abandoned pirate weapons before fleeing inland had seemed like a smart idea, but now he regretted the decision as their weight became almost unbearable and slowed him down.

To add to his burden, the straps of two full arrow quivers crossed over Arken’s left shoulder. Even though he had a barrel chest that was larger around than Asher’s, Arken was still smaller than the Tookan pirates who had owned the arrows. The quivers with their large straps seemed alive, intent on making running more difficult by jerking with each step in the opposite direction from the gastag backpack Arken also carried. To add to his troubles, the gastag leather strap that normally controlled his long blond hair had come loose and now his hair obscured his vision. With the load of weapons in his arm he couldn’t retie the strap.

I’ve got to stop, Asher gasped.

Is it your left shoulder again?

No, just exhausted. Have to stop.

We can’t. The Tookans will catch us. Arken glanced back as he spoke and saw that Asher had slowed down, so Arken matched his pace. Asher was really at his limit.

Can I drop these? Asher pleaded. He had grabbed two swords and a spear at the beach as well. Arken sympathized. The short swords weren’t bad—they were barely three feet long and designed for close in combat—but the spears were about seven feet long with bronze spearheads and they weighed twice as much as a sword.

They’ll mark our trail, Arken objected.

My bleeding feet are doing that already, Asher said. Besides, I can hide the weapons.

You’re right. Let’s look for a place to hide them.

They ran for a short time until Arken spotted a fallen palm tree.

Here, Arken pointed. Throw them under the trunk where it almost touches the sand and then toss some palm fronds around to hide them. We’ll come back for them later.

Oh, that’s better, Asher said as he began running again. You’re not going to drop yours?

Arken shook his head. No, we might need these spears, and it won’t hurt to have spare swords.

He looked backward to memorize the location of the hidden weapons. He hated leaving them, even if he had extras. Weapons were the only tool that gave them a chance of surviving in this harsh world of predators and pirates.

How can you still outrun me now that you’re carrying so much weight and I’m not? Asher wondered out loud as he struggled to keep up with Arken.

I’m just fit from my Academy training, Arken lied. You said you rarely exercised back home.

I ran a lot. I said I didn’t do much combat training. I’m a good runner. I can’t understand how you can carry all those weapons and outrun me, Asher exclaimed. Then he groaned and gripped his side.

I’ve got to stop. I have a sideache.

Don’t stop, Arken protested. Come on, blood brother. I can’t leave you behind. Arken stopped and waited until Asher limped past him.

I have to stop, Arken. It hurts. Asher squeezed his left side and walked bent over. And my feet hurt.

Don’t stop. Run! Arken said angrily. To emphasize his words, he used the sides of the swords and spear tips to shove Asher so hard in the back that he almost fell forward.

Ow, Asher objected. That hurt.

Then run. It’s life or death. A pirate’s sword thrust through your belly is going to hurt more!

All right, I’ll run. Asher sounded angry as he resumed a slow run, but soon he was breathing so hard he quit talking.

Arken felt relieved that running forced Asher into silence. Arken couldn’t tell Asher that he was one-quarter Nander and his Nander blood made him far stronger than any human like Asher. A full-blooded Nander could lift four times what a strong human could lift while a Nander’s stamina was that of a darwulf, which could run all day and never slow. But Arken couldn’t tell anyone that being part Nander gave him his strength. Not even his blood brother, Asher. If anyone in Lanth learned Arken was part Nander, he would be put to death because interbreeding was forbidden.

Asher stumbled and slowed his pace yet again while holding his left side.

I’ve got to stop or run slower.

No, Asher, you can’t stop. If you do, as your blood brother, I’ll have to stay with you. The Tookans will kill us, or if they’re forgiving, just make us slaves.

Asher ignored him and started to walk, so Arken pushed Asher yet again with the bundle of swords and spears.

Un-blood brother me, then, if it means I can rest, Asher protested.

Un-blood brother you and lose my royal Tolarian inheritance? Arken joked. Never.

Asher chuckled at Arken’s double joke. First, all of Tolaria’s wealth had been saved from Baltak by Asher’s sister, Princess Sharmane, as the city fell. But it had done them little good to take it on his sister’s ship because the Tookan pirates had attacked just this morning. Now that chest rested in the hold of a pirate ship.

A few ceremonial crowns and the Necklace of Tol were all that was left of the fortune. The necklace was the most valuable item in their possessions, of course. It could help a person wearing it see the future.

In fact, the pirates had pursued the princess’s fleet all the way across the Circle Sea to get the necklace for the Amarrat king. Arken, Asher, and Talya had been smart and buried the necklace and crowns before the Tookans had captured them days ago. Even so, Asher’s family was penniless. They owned the most valuable object in the world, which they would never sell, but had no money!

It was a joke in a second way because Arken would never inherit any of Asher’s wealth. Only the blood ritual made them brothers—they were not true blood ties. Some day, Asher would be king of Tolaria and Arken would still be nothing more than Asher’s commoner friend from the Lantish Academy.

Asher laughed at Arken’s joke, and then said, Don’t worry, Arken, we will defeat the Amarrats and recover our treasure and our country.

I will help you, Arken promised.

If you help us defeat the Amarrats… Asher said, pausing to breathe, We will reward you. Again, he stopped to breathe. If we’re rich again. My family has sunk low in the world. He shook his head and laughed, then said, Ow.

What hurts? Arken worried that Asher needed to stop again.

Laughing.

At what? Arken asked.

The irony of our misfortune. Country conquered, mother captured, our fortune lost.

Talk less and run faster or you’ll lose your life, Arken cautioned.

All right. Asher started to run faster but, as he did, he tripped and had to grab Arken’s shoulder to stay on his feet. Arken almost dropped the swords and spears before Asher regained his balance and let go.

Then they heard a faint shout behind them. Asher’s eyes went wide.

Run! Arken picked up the pace and, Asher, now encouraged by fear, managed to stay with him.

Do you think the Nubian pirate is close? Can he really track us in this jungle? Asher asked.

Yes. Even without your bloody feet, he could follow us. Before their capture, Arken had watched from his hiding spot as the tall Nubian moved like a ghost through the jungle. Until he had seen the Nubian following their faint trail, Arken had thought Talya was the best tracker he’d seen thanks to her Queen’s Trackers’ training. But the Nubian put Talya’s skills to shame. He seemed as at home in the jungle as the Nanders.

I worried you’d say yes, Asher wheezed.

Arken saw movement ahead and felt alarm until he realized Ord had run back to fetch them.

Run faster. We stop soon for rest. Ord let them pass, and then ran behind them. He spoke in Lantish taught to him by his father, a former Lantish slave. Ord glided behind them without effort. Though the same age and height as the humans, he was at least four times as strong as a No-fur. When they were the pirate’s prisoners, Ord had told Arken that No-fur was his tribe’s name for humans. Like all Nanders, Ord had a light coat of golden hair covering his entire body, which was why they called humans No-furs.

And also like the other Nanders, Ord had a weak chin and a low forehead that sloped back at a sharp angle until interrupted by bones as thick as a man’s finger above his eyes. An uncombed mat of blonde hair, colored lighter than his body coat, hung at varying lengths from Ord’s head.

Nanders must cut their hair with flint knives, Arken thought.

Good, Asher said.

Ord carry? He nodded at the weapons in Arken’s arms.

Please. Just for awhile, Arken said. He stopped to give the load to Ord, and then he was off, running as if he carried nothing.

Arken couldn’t believe how light he felt without the weapons. But his intitial relief turned to worry. Should he trust Ord with modern weapons?

Then he realized that his fatigue was making him worry without a reason. Arken knew he could trust Ord. The Nander had already risked his life for them.

Ord had helped them because he owed the humans life debt. Ord had been starving to death after running away from home because he was not yet a skilled hunter with the heavy Nander spear. He had found picar meat left by the cadets and it had saved his life. According to Nander law, this made him owe life debt to Arken and Asher.

To repay the humans, Ord had watched the cadets and tried to save Arken from a Tookan trap. But instead, they had all been taken prisoner.

Then Ord carried Talya when I couldn’t, Arken reminded himself. Earlier in the day, the Tookans had marched them from the oak forest inland to the beach. The Tookans had said to carry Talya or leave her for dead because she was delirious and in terrible pain from her broken arm. Ord had carried Talya after Asher and Arken had given up from fatigue.

The Tookan ships had sailed from over the horizon in response to a signal fire set on the beach by Arken’s captors. The large sailing ships had anchored far from shore to avoid the shallow sand bars, and then sent a longboat in to ferry everyone back to the ship.

Half the Tookans and cadets had boarded the longboat and begun the long row to the ships.

Lon, Ord’s brother-in-law, and his Nander friends had attacked the Tookans left to guard Ord and the remaining cadets when the longboat was near the big ships.

Gart, Narval, and Han had been the first taken on the longboat and still remained captives of the Tookans. Arken didn’t miss Gart. He was a year older than Arken and had been a constant bully during the past year, which was easy for Gart, considering he was mean and a head taller. Gart’s bullying had been so bad that it had given Arken an aversion to anyone tall with dark hair; thick, black eyebrows; and hairy legs because that vision usually preceded a session of misery for Arken. And to make matters worse, Gart and Narval had threatened to kill Arken at the beginning of SeaJourney.

Han, on the other hand, was one of his better friends at the Academy, but his red-haired friend’s typical bad luck had prevailed yet again and Han was one of the captives. Ever since Arken had known Han, his friend was always getting hurt or getting caught and being punished. Arken missed Han and felt terrible about him.

Narval was Talya’s cousin and a friend of Gart’s. During the struggle to survive in the jungle, Narval had changed from being a bully to nearly a friend after Arken had been willing to fight Gart when he had dishonorable intentions toward Talya.

How long do you think we’ll stay free, Arken? Asher glanced backards even though no more shouting had come from behind. Even if we reach the Nander’s cave, if the Nubian really can track us anywhere, then he will eventually find us. Sweat ran off Asher’s face as he stumbled along. What will we do then?

Fight, Arken simply said. If they track us to the Nander’s cave, I’m sure the Nanders will fight them with us.

You will fight? How? Asher protested. You and I are small. I’m terrible in combat, and your only value as a warrior is firing a bow. But you don’t even have a bow.

I’ll make one. Arken had made several with his grandfather. He knew he could do it again. But a pang of sorrow stabbed Arken’s heart. The Nubian tracker had taken Arken’s black bow; the one Arken’s grandfather had made for his fourteenth birthday. It was such a beautiful bow. In fact, his grandfather had said it was better than any bow he’d ever made, even for the king of Lanth.

Now Arken’s birthday, though just a few weeks ago, seemed like years in the past. Even their SeaJourney, their first voyage at sea after graduation from the Academy, now seemed in the distant past.

The only memories that felt recent to Arken were the Tookans’ attack on the Sea Nymph and its running aground, then the crew swimming to shore while the smoker, a giant sixty-foot-long sharrk, ate the entire adult crew and most of the cadets. Arken, Asher, and the other surviving cadets—there had been seven of them to begin with—had slept in the trees to avoid being eaten by the burs, cuys and cats on shore. But after a jalag had eaten Tor, a Tolarian cabin boy, the Tookans captured them anyway after the cadets had survived several days in the jungle.

"No-furs talk too loud. Swordtooth hear, come, eat No-furs," Ord hissed after dropping back to warn them.

Sorry, Arken whispered. Ord had looked at him directly in the eyes, reminding Arken that most Nanders’ eyes were a sparkling, pale blue. Arken wondered if that was true of all the Nanders, though he didn’t have time to dwell on the question as Ord ran head of them at a rapid pace.

They ran in silence at close to Asher’s top speed for another quarter of an hour along game trails that paralleled the coastline. The trails meandered through the red flowered bushes scattered between stretches of open white sand beneath giant palm trees. Arken felt like he was floating as he ran. He was grateful that he could just put his head down, follow Ord’s back, and not worry about picking out the faint trail.

Finally, they came upon the other Nanders. They had stopped at a clearing in the palm trees. Arken and Asher collapsed on the sand, their breath making noisy gasps until they recovered.

In contrast, the Nanders’ breathing reminded Arken of harses after a long cavalry charge. Their long, deep breaths came from what Arken realized had to be lungs much larger than humans. Sweat matted each Nanders’ golden coat of hair just like sweat on a harse.

Arken stared at the Nanders as if seeing them for the first time. Of course he had grown up around Arlet and there were Nander slaves in Lanth. Not many, but enough to become familiar with their look. But here in the wild, it was like seeing the Nanders for the first time. They looked so comfortable in this jungle.

One of them remained standing as a lookout. The others lay about on the grass of the small meadow. Arken could see that their body hair gave their skin protection from the ground and sharp grass, while anywhere he had bare skin, the grass was cutting into him. He realized that the Nanders with their body hair were like all the other animals—the cats, hynas, even the dogs at home in Lanth—who had coats that protected them from scratches and cuts.

He looked at the Nanders’ feet and marveled at the heavy calluses on the bottom and sides of their soles. The skin looked more like the bottom of a pair of sandals than the bottom of a person’s foot. No wonder they can run so easily, thought Arken.

One of the Nanders sat up and the muscles beneath the fur rippled and pulsed. Arken was reminded by the muscles on the back of the swordtooth he had watched when it had jumped through the air to attack a baby toth. The swordtooth’s muscles had rippled and flowed under its skin in the same way as this Nander before him.

The Nanders belong in the forest, Arken thought. Asher and Talya and I don’t. We can adapt to it by wearing clothing and shoes, but we don’t belong out here. We’re too weak and fragile compared to all the other animals and the Nanders. It’s only our brains and the things we can make that allow us to survive out here.

I don’t know how you can keep up with them and not be as exhausted as me, Asher complained. Your legs and lungs must be stronger than mine, but I don’t know how. Though you do have a bigger chest than me.

I told you. I’m just in better shape, Arken said, trying to appease Asher’s curiosity by lying. He couldn’t reveal his secret, of course.

Maybe, Asher said. But I’m getting sick of looking at the back of your head and your blond ponytail bouncing around while I try to keep up. Asher wiped sweat from his eyes. What is it, by the way, about you cadets that you all have long hair and wear ponytails?

I don’t know. We’ve always worn our hair this way. Asher’s comment reminded Arken to gather his hair from around his eyes and retie the gastag leather strap.

But adults in Lanth don’t wear their hair long like that. At what age do you cut it?

On our wedding day, Arken said. To show that we are no longer single.

Ahhh . . . Asher said. That makes sense, actually. But the girls don’t, do they?

No, just boys, Arken said. He was glad Asher hadn’t pursued the issue of Arken’s strength further. Of course, it was Arken’s Nander blood—his grandmother on his father’s side was a Nander—which made his long legs stronger and his barrel chest better at drawing in air.

On the other hand, according to grandfather, his Nander blood made him shorter than normal for now but would result in a big growth spurt soon. Arken hoped so. He disliked being so short—the shortest in his class until Asher had joined them on SeaJourney.

Sunlight filtered into the clearing through the giant palms high above. They had run north along the coast rather than traveling inland and into the dense jungle that lay between the coast and the oak savanna. Birds cried while darting through the trees. Arken’s ears were always alert for the loud cry of the huge, flightless birds rumored to be in this part of the Great Open. He had not seen any of the terrible birds in their brief time ashore.

That doesn’t mean they aren’t around though, Arken thought. It just means we’ve been lucky so far... if you