by B K Suitter
Spirit Wind rode the trail all day and long into the night. He had caught up to the other mushers and paced them, staying close behind and camping with them for warmth and safety. The North had white bears and packs of wolves and many other hazards, making the night a treacherous time to ride.
Spirit Wind knew most of the other men and considered some of them friends. Small alliances would be formed out in the harsh environment, but inevitably, there could be only one winner of The Ice Pack.
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“No more than two full days of walking,” replied Michael as he addressed the questions of a worried old woman.
“And what will we eat?” she asked again for the third time.
“Norman is fishing the streams and Big Tim is hunting for venison. Tris and Evaylia are searching for berries and roots. We will be fine. I have made this journey to Warmwater many times with my father. In two days, we will be there.” Michael had actually made the journey only twice, and he and his father were on horses.
Michael had walked with Tris, Evaylia, and Jase through the thick forest with the little girl named Mara always close behind. The Timberlands were enormous, spreading out along the eastern coast of Asaria. Tall trees crowded the landscape supplying a canopy of leafy colors to cover the region while wire brush and thorn bushes grew thick upon the ground.
By midday they had come across a large group of people from a neighboring town that had also been overrun by the Asarians. A large man by the name of Big Tim led a band of twenty-five frontiers folk. They were mostly woman and children, but a few old men dotted their ranks, as well as a young sturdy lumberjack named Norman. They were all headed for Warmwater, and Michael and his small group joined them.
When darkness came the first night, they all camped in a tight clearing with a bright moon above them. They had little supplies, so most of the group made their beds on the hard-packed dirt, and they did their best to make the old and very young comfortable.
They had water from a nearby stream and they ate berries and small portions of bread and carrots which were brought along in haste by the other townspeople. Michael moved throughout the campsite with Big Tim and Evaylia, helping and encouraging the haggard group to find some rest so they could all be on the move come morning.
Michael and Norman, a tall lumberjack with blonde hair and blue eyes, took the first watch while everyone else tried to find sleep. Michael sat with Evaylia and Tris while Jase sat on a log and stared at nothing. Mara sat on a log alone across the small clearing and was content with staring at them. She seemed most interested in Jase.
“I insist on taking the next watch, Michael,” Evaylia said quietly, but with a stubborn edge.
“You need your rest,” Michael whispered. “Besides, you’re a girl and girls can’t take watch.”
“Why not?” Evaylia whispered back, a small smile creasing her lips.
“They are too girly,” he replied, smiling back and throwing her a wink.
“You’re the only one that’s too girly, Michael,” said Tris in a harsh whisper.
“Shhhhh,” hushed a few of the women who were trying to get their children to sleep.
Michael put his finger to his lip and gave Tris a silent shh. “Go to sleep,” he whispered with a smile.
The stubborn little girl pouted for a short moment, and then she curled up on a thin blanket with Evaylia and forced herself to try and get some sleep. Michael stood from his log and crept over to the strange little girl named Mara.
“Are you ok?” he asked quietly, and she tore her eyes away from Jase in a confused manner, but quickly regained focus and responded.
“I am fine, Michael,” she said sweetly and with a smile.
Michael stared at the girl, wanting to say more, but the words would not come.
“If I need anything, I’ll be sure to ask,” Mara said, dismissing him politely.
“Ok,” Michael whispered, and he turned around and walked back across the clearing and sat down next to Jase. His head began to ache, and he winced with pain and rubbed at his temples. He looked over at Mara and found her smiling at him and his head pounded even more, and he turned away with a sickened stomach and tried not to retch. Michael stood slowly from the log and staggered over to Evaylia.
“What is wrong with you? You look sick,” Evaylia asked as she stood with heavy concern on her face.
“I don’t know,” replied Michael, his face pale and his head heavy. “I just got suddenly ill. Will you cover my watch for a bit?” and he lay down next to Tris on the ground and curled up, using his arm for a pillow. Michael fell asleep quickly and deeply and was a little annoyed when his older brother woke him.
“Michael,” said Jase loudly and he reached down and again shook his younger brother.
“I’m awake,” Michael said irritably, knowing that he surely wasn’t if he was talking to Jase, but in his dream, everything seemed so real.
“Listen to me,” Jase said desperately, standing above Michael who was still lying on the ground next to a sleeping Tris. Evaylia sat on a log not far from him, but she seemed not to notice their exchange. “You can’t trust her, Michael. She –” and Jase stiffened and arced his entire body, throwing his chest out and gasping as a long blade tore through it. Blood sprayed across Michael’s face and he woke with a scream and sat up quickly and looked around to find Jase lying safely on the ground near to him, eyes wide open and looking at nothing.
“Michael,” Evaylia whispered as she jumped to his side. “You were dreaming,” and she knelt next to him.
“I know,” he said, catching his breath and collecting his thoughts. “I’m ok now,” and he laid back down next to his little sister, who stirred and shifted back to sleep.
The moon was still bright in the dark sky and it seemed to illuminate the clearing so Michael could see Big Tim pacing the other end of the campsite. He could see the other frontier folk stretching out and trying to gain comfort on the forest floor, but most were just resting with anticipation for the following morning.
Michael was disturbed over his violent dream and he looked over at Mara and found her staring back at him from across the clearing.
“Bad dream,” she whispered with a smile. Michael turned away as his head pounded with painful throbs, and he closed his eyes and tried to force himself back to sleep.
The next morning came early and the tired group of people resumed their trek to the distant city of Warmwater. Mysteriously, the small girl named Mara seemed to disappear sometime during the night. The group spread out and spent the entire morning looking for the missing girl, but she could not be found, and the party moved on. Michael was sure that the girl had not just wandered off, nor had she been captured or harmed by any animal. The little girl had simply left the group and Michael felt bad that he didn’t mind. There was something very odd about Mara, and he silently hoped to not see her again.
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“Where’s your wolf, honey?” Robert and Joseph found the little girl out beside the barn. It was a warm day and blue skies looked down on Aliha as she sat and played in the dirt.
“I don’t know,” she replied in a tiny voice, not bothering to look up as she continued to dig a small trench in the hard-packed dirt.
“Joseph wants to see her,” her father said. “She’s usually around when Aliha is outside playing.” Robert scanned the surrounding area for the timber wolf, but she could not be seen.
“She wouldn’t like Joseph,” Aliha said. She was nine summers old and always spoke her mind.
“Why wouldn’t she like me?” Joseph asked as he knelt next to the small girl.
Aliha stopped digging and looked up at the man.
“You’re the reason she isn’t around today, so she must not like you.” Then she went back to digging in the dirt, using her stick to etch lines and patterns. “She doesn’t like anyone but me – not even father.” She stood and dropped her stick on the ground and used her tiny hands to brush the dirt off her
knees and smooth out the wrinkles on her faded yellow dress.
“What’s her name?” asked Joseph as he stood up next to her.
“How would I know what her name is?” Aliha asked back with her tiny hands on her hips. Her knees were stained brown with dirt, as were her feet.
Joseph simply laughed as he turned away and started walking towards his wagon. “You could give her a name, I guess.”
“What name would I give her?” she asked.
“I heard a story about a boy and his wolf once when I was in Ferrinbay,” Joseph said. “It was told to me by The Silver Tongue of Gabler’s Keep,” he flared dramatically.
“That nut?” Robert laughed. “What’s his name? Tamar… or Tamulos… um, Tamis the Priest?” he asked with sarcasm.
“It’s Tamos the Monk and he tells a better story than you,” Joseph replied with mock anger.
“He talks crazy, that’s what he does,” Robert said back, looking down at Aliha and messing up her hair with a strong hand. The little girl reached up and grabbed at his wrist while ducking away.
“What did the boy name his wolf?” Aliha asked as she spun around her father.
Joseph climbed up into the seat of his wagon and sat down, then he picked up the reins to the two horses and turned to the small girl.
“I believe the wolf’s name was Timber,” the man said as he shook at the reins. The horses began to walk, and the wagon started to moan and creak as it slowly pulled away. “Tell DeeAnna that I loved the pie,” Joseph called out and he waved and said goodbye.
“Timber…Timber.” Aliha kept repeating the name quietly. “What do you think of Timber, Father?” the small girl asked.
“I don’t know, honey,” he replied. “Is Timber even a girl’s name?”
“Timber,” she said, then said it again and again. “Timber, yes, I think I like that name,” and Aliha called the name out to try it for real. “Timber!” she yelled. “Timber, come here, girl!”
“And did she come?” Prince Allenmar asked.
“Not until late that night,” Aliha said, scratching at the ears of the large black wolf that lay at her feet. “I remember sitting on the porch all evening, wanting desperately to give Timber her new name. I cried when my father made me go to bed. Then I cried even more while I sat in bed,” Aliha said with a laugh. “Then, off in the distance I heard her howl and I crept outside and found her waiting for me. It’s like she knew I needed her. Anyway, that’s how I came up with the name Timber,” and Aliha wrapped up her story. She sat on a long-padded chair and Prince Allenmar joined her. They were in a comfortable rail car heading west towards the coast and the city of Snowflake.
After leaving Castle Coldstorm, Aliha and her group made the short journey back to Frostbite where they met up with Daphaxian and boarded the Iron Horse. Gideon slept on a long- cushioned bench while Shanks and Daphaxian were engaged in quiet conversation on comfortable seats of their own. Gretta and the imposing Northman, Bearok, were talking quietly up at the front of the rail car alone.
“So you named her after Kadomi’s wolf?” the prince asked.
“Who is Kadomi?” inquired Aliha.
“Surely you have heard the story of the first Kadomi?” Prince Allenmar replied with a wink. He was having a difficult time being so close to a replica of the girl he had loved so much all those years ago. Everything that Aliha said and did produced strong memories for him. He felt twenty years younger as he sat with her, and he couldn’t help but try and be extra charming.
“I may have heard it before,” Aliha replied, “but I must have been very young.” Allenmar smiled and stared at her so she looked away and felt awkward for doing so.
“I’m sorry, Aliha,” the handsome prince said. “You are the very image of your mother and I feel as though we were never apart.” Allenmar knew he made Aliha uncomfortable, so he changed the subject quickly. “I shall tell you the story of the first Kadomi,” the prince said. “We have a long journey ahead of us and a good story will help to pass the time.”
“I love a good story,” commented Daphaxian as he walked up to the pair and sat down across from them. Shanks was with him and he sat down as well. “What would you like to hear, Aliha?” Daphaxian asked the girl as he threw a charming wink her way. Prince Allenmar looked at the Asarian rogue with a bit of contempt. “How about the mysterious tale of Isakar and the magical sword he forged for his lost son?”
“No one wants to hear that,” replied Shanks, smiling at a hurt Daphaxian. “Let me tell the story of Yamen the Darkhorse and his valiant Queen’s Guard.”
“A good story, indeed,” replied a tired Gideon as he walked slowly over to the group, gently swaying with the rocking of the rail car. “But let me tell the tale of Ezeria and his healing quest for Carami.”
Soon, all four men were arguing over the right to tell his tale, but it was Aliha who spoke up to end their bickering.
“Gentlemen, please,” she said, “I’m sure they are all good stories and I will want to hear each of them in time, but right now, I would like for Prince Allenmar to tell me the story of the first Kadomi.”
Prince Allenmar smiled wide at Daphaxian and the Asarian chuckled as he realized the game the Arani Prince was playing. Allenmar was obviously smitten by the young Aliha, possibly wanting to relive his younger days.
Daphaxian smiled back at the prince and wondered if it was wise to bring the man along. Maybe no one would notice if the Arani Prince came up missing in Snowflake. Daphaxian just smiled as he contemplated the thought and Allenmar cleared his throat and began the tale of the first Kadomi.
11
Year of the Foul Beasts 2001 A.A.
It was midday and dark thick clouds rolled across the sky and suffocated the eastern coast while rain and wind pounded the ocean and land. The silhouette of a tall man could be seen as lightning threaded its way throughout the ominous clouds. He was standing at the edge of a tall cliff that overlooked the wide entrance to an inlet that stretched far into the northern part of the Arani Kingdom. The long inlet separated the hills to the north from the Timberlands below. The bay was shallow and filled with small rocky islands that reached up to disembowel any ship that dared sail into the long cove.
A dark silhouette on the water tossed about as the powerful storm drove massive ocean born waves against the coast. A large boat rode the unsteady waters, riding high and then low as the waves pushed the ship around like a tiny piece of driftwood.
No crew was visible on board the ship and it looked as if the storm itself was sailing the vessel. It moved out to the mouth of the long inlet and the rolling waters ushered the ship in. It rocked hard to the side as a large wave took the boat close to the rocky cliffs that ran the length of the northern shore. The ship was driven along the massive wall that towered high above the churning waters.
When lightening flashed across the storm clouds, brief images of the doomed ship could be seen moving close to the tall rocks that sprouted from the cold waters. The watcher that stood cliffside mounted a roan mare and followed the ship as it moved deeper into the long channel, passing dangerously close to another rocky island. It was only a matter of time before the boat was destroyed upon the rocks.
The storm pushed large amounts of water into the inlet, making the large waves unpredictable to sail. The ship was able to ride the churning waters over most of the sharp rocks, and the luck the craft was having as it pushed deeper into the channel kept the man moving fast along the cliff side. He was beginning to believe the vessel was being steered even though no sailors were evident aboard the ship.
The vessel had sailed a good distance when finally, the crunch of wood being smashed against the rocks rose above the loud voice of the mighty storm. A burst of lightening showed briefly the ship being torn apart, and another bright flash made it possible to see the craft turning on its side. The watcher sat on his horse and witnessed the vessel being slowly pulled under by the angry waters of Shipwrecker Cove.
It took the rider all
that night to circumvent the long channel, and by morning he was riding around the edge of the inlet and walking his mount along the southern shore. He looked for signs of the wrecked vessel, and at one point, he got off his horse and tied the reins to a small tree and began walking along the waters on foot.
His name was Tanamar and he wore a long, hooded robe which he kept tight about himself, folding his arms as he walked and hiding his hands in the long sleeves of the soft garment. He moved to the edge of the shoreline of rocks and mud and investigated the bay. He searched the waters as he moved along the shore and came upon a small wooden box. Tanamar picked it up out of the mud and found it to be locked, so he slid the box into a deep pocket and continued down the shoreline where large planks of wood floated about the water.
After a short time, he came across the wrecked ship anchored upon a tiny island of sharp rocks. Long planks of wood bobbed on the waves around the vessel and he noticed a body that was unmoving apon the shore. It appeared to be a woman and strapped across her back was a leather carrier that held a small child that gently coughed tiny sprays of water from its mouth.
Tanamar reached down and took hold of the infant. As the naked baby slid free from the pack, the woman suddenly reared up and grabbed hold of his arm. Startled, he pulled away from the woman’s grasp, slipping in the mud and almost dropping the baby into the cold water. The woman’s face was twisted with rage and she hissed and screamed in an incoherent manner, causing Tanamar to stumble back a few steps.
The sight of the woman’s ghastly face sent chills throughout his body. Where her eyes should have been, there were only deep empty sockets, yet he felt as though she was staring right at him. As the woman screamed with hatred, he could see teeth sharp and rotten. Her hair was long and black, and it hung about her in thick, wet, uneven strands as she slowly pulled herself out of the water.
Tanamar noticed then that her wrists were shackled in chains and as she crawled out of the inlet and onto the rocky ground, so were her feet. The woman began sniffing the air as would an animal when tracking its prey, scrambling on all fours, causing him to backpedal quickly away.
