Wanderling (Spirit Seeker Book 1)
Read Wanderling (Spirit Seeker Book 1) Online
Authors: Hannah Stahlhut
Wanderling
Spirit
Seeker Book One
Hannah
Stahlhut
Copyright © 2016 by
Hannah Stahlhut
Cover design ©
Hannah England
All rights reserved. Except for the use in any review,
the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by
any electronic, mechanical or other means is forbidden without the express
permission of the author.
To Marvin and
Paul, who have transformed many lives including my own.
“Yes, it’s hopeless. You’ll miss
me the instant we cast off,” Raban lamented loudly, with an exaggerated sigh
and a shake of his head. “You will recant your rebellious ways and dive into
the harbor, begging me to take you aboard.”
Adala rolled her eyes at her
father’s self-assured remark. “I suppose you think I’ll weep to see you go,”
she said, breathing in the salty breeze as she lugged a trunk across the
boarding ramp and onto the deck of
The Sea Sprite
. The wide dock was
bustling with crew members carrying their personal effects or rolling
last-minute barrels of supplies on board.
“You’ve never been one for
weeping,” Captain Raban replied to his daughter, rolling a barrel on deck and
handing it off to his new cabin boy.
“Only those with hearts weep,”
hollered Rolfe, hopping down from the mast.
All around, crewmembers hooted at
Rolfe’s comment as they swarmed to and fro, carrying the last of the supplies
below deck and checking all the sails. From somewhere, one of them called out,
“We’re glad to see you go, girlie. Bad luck to have a woman onboard!”
“Hang on, she’s a woman?” hollered
Rolfe, winking at Adala.
“Your charm is astounding,” Adala
shot back. “Really, it’s a wonder you have no wife.”
“Enough,” her father said. “Back
to work. I want this deck spotless when I come back, understood?” He barked the
words, not using the full force of his captain’s voice but speaking harshly
enough to let the crew know he was serious.
A chorus of “ayes” answered him as
everyone turned back to their tasks.
Adala followed her father over the
freshly swabbed boards, sailors stepping aside to make way for them. She always
liked the first day of a voyage—seeing everyone all cleaned up, their hair
washed and clothes all clean. The energy was vibrant, prickling with the thrill
of a new adventure. Only Adala’s excitement wasn’t for the voyage this year—she
was excited to stay home.
Raban led her to the captain’s
quarters and pulled open the window on the back of the ship, allowing a fresh
breeze and light to spill into the room. He spread out a map of the western
coast of Bolgir on his table. At the top, the northernmost city in the empire,
rested Gerstadt, their port home and the place where Adala would spend the
entire summer for the first time in her memory.
A summer at home.
Her heart
raced at the thought—a summer without cabin duties, navigating, sparring, and
sleeping in a hammock aboard a moving ship. A summer to do as she pleased and
finally start her own life.
“The southern wind currents have
been closer to the coast this season,” Raban said, tracing along the edge of
the map.
Adala traced the map southward.
“You can navigate the Shadow Isles then. We’ve done it before, and you know I
don’t put much stock in the legends surrounding those islands.”
“That may be our course,” Raban
said, creases deepening on his brow. “At least I have your notes on the map to
guide me.”
Adala sighed at the comment. She
pretended to be interested in the map to avoid eye contact with her father.
“You’re angry with me for staying behind,” she said quietly.
Raban chuckled softly. “Adala, you
know I make it clear if I’m angry. Tell me what’s really on your mind, Girlie.”
“I just don’t want to part ways
thinking you are disappointed in me,” she blurted, turning to meet her father’s
gaze evenly. His eyes were well wrinkled in the corners from squinting at the
bright sea, and his beard was more grey than black lately. She sometimes forgot
that he was getting older, forgot that he was already having difficulty reading
the charts up close. He relied on her greatly for navigation.
But you can’t be stuck in his
crew forever,
she reminded herself, lifting her chin confidently.
“If staying home with your mother
is what you really want, my feelings don’t matter one way or another,” Raban
said, lips curling into an amused smirk. “You’re seventeen years old; you’re
tougher than any woman I know. Tell me, what do you plan on doing with your
time while I am away?”
Adala smiled, relieved at his
words. “I will earn my keep aboard fishing boats until I can buy one of my
own,” she said with pride. “I know enough men at the docks to get a place with
Konrad’s fishing boat while he is abroad this summer.”
“Konrad,” Raban groaned, feigning
disappointment. “My own daughter abandons ship to help my competitor? Now that
hurts.”
“Only until I can have my own boat,”
Adala reminded. “I told you before, I still want to sail, I just want to stay
in Gerstadt.”
“If that’s your path, I can’t stop
you,” Raban said. He smiled until his eyes crinkled at the edges, the way he
did when he really meant it. “The sooner you succeed in your little plan, the
sooner you can find out it’s a dead end and rejoin my crew next summer. The
best I can do is help you achieve your goal.”
Adala’s heart leaped at his words,
but she tried not to show her delight. “Have you bought me a boat?” she
blurted.
“By the gods, no!” Raban
exclaimed, throwing his head back and releasing a short, hearty laugh. “You
will earn every success in life by the sweat of your brow, child, just as I
did.”
She tried not to look too
disappointed, leaning back over the map to hide her scowl.
“However,” Raban continued. “I
have asked Master John to look in on you over the summer. He can counsel you in
your endeavors.”
Adala frowned at the thought of
Master John monitoring her progress. “John? He’s never held a fishnet in all
his life.”
“He may not know about fishing,”
Raban said, “but he knows about people. You could learn from him.” Raban
studied his daughter’s face as he added, “He’s spoken to me about a marriage
arrangement, you know.”
Adala jolted at his words, face
flushing. “John? I mean, me?” she stammered. She would never have guessed his
interests before. However, she had seen him more often as of late, and they
did
flirt, though she hardly thought it was enough to indicate interest. He always
acted so… composed… polished… reserved even. Not at all the sort of behavior
she would characterize as romantic advances.
“My daughter. Speechless,” Raban
said, interrupting her thoughts, “I never thought I’d see the day.” He shook
his head in amusement.
“What did you say to him?” Adala
exclaimed, her mind racing. If she were to marry Master John, she would have
high standing in Gerstadt. As wife to the Master of Arms, she would likely live
in the castle for heaven’s sake!
“I told him he should take the
summer to let you change his mind.” Raban shrugged.
“You didn’t!” Adala exclaimed.
“Father, he is an important man. You can’t turn him away like that.”
“I wasn’t turning him away,” Raban
said dismissively. “Besides, my warnings didn’t seem to get through to the poor
man. It seems that, unless you put a stop to it, he may be stuck with you the
rest of his life.” He threw up his hands in mock defeat.
She crossed her arms at her
father’s jest, fuming. “What if I decide
I
don’t like
him
?” she
said with defiance. “It could go the other way around.”
Raban shrugged again, then grew
serious. “You and he will have to report on your decision when I return in
autumn. I don’t care to make that big of a decision for you, and I encourage
you to take your time with it.”
“I will consider him,” Adala
promised, still confused by the whole proposal.
“Don’t turn him away because you
think your mother or I approve of the match either,” Raban said sternly.
“Isn’t that why Mother married
you?” Adala teased. “To defy her parents?”
Raban shrugged his broad shoulders
innocently. “Guilty,” he said, rolling up his chart. “Marriage is a funny
thing, Adala. Don’t do it for the wrong reasons. If you think you’re in love,
don’t marry. It will pass. If you need money, don’t marry John for that purpose
either. You can borrow it cheaper, and with less headache.”
“Wise words,” Adala said,
grinning.
“In fact,” Raban continued in a
joking manner, “just tell John to back off. I have plans for you after you’re
done with your little adventure as a fishmonger.”
“Father!” Adala exclaimed,
aggravated to hear him belittle her plans. “I am serious about becoming a
fisherwoman. I love the sea, yes, but more than that I want to come home every
night and see Mother and Shem. I don’t know how you can leave them behind year
after year, honestly!”
Raban grew solemn. “It hurts each
time, Adala,” he said. “But the sea is my life, my livelihood, and it’s yours
too. We can’t help it. It’s in our blood.”
Adala knew the call of the sea,
the itch every spring to weigh anchor without looking back. But she refused to
believe that her love for the ocean couldn’t be fulfilled with a fisherman’s
life, never leaving sight of the shore most days.
“Speaking of your mother and
Shem,” Raban continued, “We should get to the docks. They will be here soon to
see me off.”
Adala followed her father onto the
deck, where the crew mostly stood in groups now, speaking excitedly about the
cities they would visit in Bolgir and Diggeret. The more pious ones held
necklaces and prayed for safe travel. Others ran to the docks to kiss their
families goodbye.
“There she is,” Raban said,
nodding toward the edge of the dock where Adala’s mother, Eleanor, awaited them
in her best dress, her gray eyes already puffy with tears. Shem, Adala’s
brother, stood next to her, wearing his new tunic and breeches, his sandy
blonde hair blowing in the breeze. Adala recalled envying her mother and
brother’s fair complexion and golden locks when she was younger, but she
resembled her father both in temperament and in looks, with straight, dark hair
and sun-roasted skin from sailing.
“Take my advice, Adala,” Raban
said, waving to his wife as he approached the dock. “Don’t spend too much time
in the cottage or you and your mother will drive each other crazy.”
“We survived the winter, didn’t
we?” Adala said, striding next to him.
“Yes, but you had me to keep you
occupied,” Raban said. “She’s going to try to teach you housework and all other
sorts of things. Stay at sea as much as possible. That’s also good advice for a
happy marriage, if you ever need it.”
They stepped off the loading
platform together, and Raban embraced his wife affectionately. “Eleanor, my
love. I miss you more with every voyage.”
“Be safe,” Adala’s mother
whispered back tearfully, “and remember to honor the holy feasts for me.”
Raban groaned. “I suppose so,” he
said, kissing Eleanor firmly and brushing a strand of golden hair back into her
braid.
“Papa, don’t go!” cried Shem,
hugging his father around the belly. At nine years of age, Shem was barely
chest height compared to his father. “Take me with you!” he whispered.
“You’ll come with me someday,”
Raban said, hugging his son tightly. “Until then, you have Adala. She can teach
you all about duties aboard a ship, navigation—she’ll even teach you how to
punch if you let her!”
“She will not!” Eleanor exclaimed,
jaw dropping open.
“Okay, okay,” Raban gave in. He
whispered, “She’ll teach you how to punch when your mum isn’t looking. Sound
good?”
Shem smiled and nodded while his
mother shook her head and scoffed, mumbling something about sea captains having
no manners.
“Be well, all of you,” Raban said.
He turned to his crewmembers who were still on the crowded docks. “All hands on
deck,” he commanded, using his throaty captain’s voice.
Turning to Adala, Raban said at
last, “Remember to look after Shem and your mother while I am away, Adala. They
need you more than you know.” With that, he clasped her shoulder, as he would
one of his crewmembers, and turned on his heel to board the ship.
Adala and her mother and brother
stood aside as other sailors rushed past to climb aboard. Within moments, the
loading platform was withdrawn and the anchor out of the water. Oars appeared
from the sides of the ship below deck, and Adala heard the familiar sound of
voices chorusing, “Heave… heave… heave!”
The Sea Sprite
pulled away
from the dock, treading steadily towards the western sea. Adala watched it go
with bittersweet emotions, recalling that this would be the first summer in
eight years that she wasn’t abroad.
Good things will come my way,
Adala reassured herself.
It’s time to make my own path.
Suddenly, Adala felt Shem’s arms
around her waist. She looked down to see a hopeful smile on her little
brother’s freckled face. “I’m glad you’re staying with us this summer, Adala,”
he said, grinning up at her.
“Me too,” she said, looking out to
see her father’s ship, now breaking free of the harbor. “Me too.”