The Ageless Giant

by B K Suitter

  She wore no clothes other than the crude leather pack that had held the child. She was thin and toned with muscle and she growled and hissed, sounding more animal than human.

  “Who are you?” asked Tanamar as he held the child and backed away slowly. At the sound of his voice, the woman froze, craning her head and neck around to listen to his words.

  He circled slowly to his left and the woman, still on all fours, turned slowly with him.

  “Who are you?” he asked again, and then whispered softly, “what are you?” She hissed at the sound of his voice and began crawling towards him. He backpedaled away and when the baby started crying louder, the woman screamed and scrambled after him.

  Tanamar ran, holding the child close while the woman paced him on all fours, running on hands and feet like an animal. She was incredibly fast, the chains she wore barely hindering her uncanny movements.

  He thought of discarding his heavy robe so he could run faster, but there was no time. He thought of throwing down the infant, hoping the crazed woman would stop chasing him, but he couldn’t bring himself to drop the child. As he ran, he could sense the woman’s pursuit, and the weight of his heavy robe slowed him down and made him breathless.

  Fear drove the man on, and he turned his head to see how close the maddened woman was to him and found her right on his heels, screaming a savage cry. As she reached out to grab hold of his robe, Tanamar made a desperate leap from the shoreline into the inlet, plunging into the cold water.

  He dragged himself out into the channel until he was chest deep, holding the infant up above the waterline. His robe felt heavy and the icy waters chilled him to the bone, but he kept wading deeper and farther away from the shore to escape the woman. When he finally turned around to see how close she was behind him, he realized the woman did not follow him into the water. Instead, she was stalking the shoreline nervously, still on hands and feet, sniffing at the ground and the air. She put a clawed hand into the water and then withdrew it quickly, screaming with hatred as she continued to pace back and forth.

  Tanamar stood still, shivering in the cold water and trying desperately to quiet the baby. The woman paced the shoreline back and forth and he began to slowly wade towards the far shore where his horse was tied to a tree. The sound of ocean gulls and water splashing joined in with the child’s soft cries as the wind picked up to an audible howl.

  A piece of driftwood from the ship washed up against him and a plan formed in his head. Holding the child close, he grabbed the small plank out of the water and threw it hard in the direction he had run from. The board splashed on the waves and the woman shrieked and began running back down the shoreline in the direction of the noise. The man then slowly started wading in the other direction toward his horse. The sound of waves lapping at the shore and the caw of birds covered the sound of his movements as he crept to the edge of the water not far from his horse.

  Tanamar’s legs were numb from the icy chill of the waters as he stepped free from the inlet and quietly walked toward his horse. He almost tripped and went down to one knee under the heavy weight of his wet robe, and that caused the child to start crying again. The woman screamed immediately at the sound and started running back in his direction, pounding the shoreline on all fours with incredible speed.

  Tanamar sprinted quickly for his horse. He untied the reins from the small tree with nervous fingers and tried desperately to climb up into the saddle. The weight of his wet robe and the child in one arm made it difficult to mount his agitated steed as it started to pull away.

  The vicious woman was almost upon him. He could hear the close rattle of her chains, and her blood-thirsty cry let him know he was caught. The horse pulled away and the baby nearly toppled out of his arms just as he climbed up into the stirrup. His frightened mount tore away from the reaching claws of the woman while he desperately held onto the baby and the horn of the saddle. He was amazed at the speed of the woman as she ran after them, pacing the horse at first, but then slowly falling behind.

  It was some time before he outdistanced the woman far enough to make it possible to stop the horse and climb up into the saddle. He held the baby close and after a while the child stopped crying and fell asleep in his arms. Far away, the man could still hear the faint cry of the infant’s mother calling out to him, promising revenge.

  *********************

  Tanamar was a hermit. He had lived alone for more than twenty years in the caves that worm-holed the hills on the northeastern coast of the Eastern Kingdom, just below the Mountains of the Great Divide.

  As a boy, he had lived with his parents on a small settlement deep in the Timberlands just south of Shipwrecker Cove. His mother and father were healers and they taught Tanamar the art as well. By the age of fifteen, he knew all about curing the sick with the use of medicinal herbs.

  When a plague swept through Arani City, his parents went there to help treat the sick while Tanamar stayed with friends that lived not far to the south. After a year, he received word of his parents dying from the same illness they had gone to cure, and Tanamar was left with nothing.

  He stayed with his parent’s friends until he was eighteen, then he wandered the eastern coast as a healer for the small settlements there.

  As he grew older, life as a traveler became harder and one harsh winter season, he found himself deep in the hills just south of the Mountains of the Great Divide. He had traveled to the area with a small party of trappers that hired him on as their healer. They explored the hills and caves throughout the region and found few animals to hold their interest.

  When the men left the area, Tanamar stayed behind and continued to explore the infinite number of caves and connecting tunnels. Some were small, barely a hovel in the side of a hill, while other caves were enormous, burrowing deep underneath the mountains and opening into large underground caverns.

  There were hieroglyphs painted across the walls portraying hill tribes that dominated the region. Drawings that showed the tribes at peace with one another had dark smears of paint across them, while the depictions of war and slaughter were colored bright and left unmarked.

  In the largest of the many caverns, Tanamar discovered a huge boulder formation in the shape of a throne, and the paintings on the wall behind the massive chair comfirmed it to be where the king of the hill tribes sat.

  There were freshwater streams and lakes that contained rare fish and plant life that only grew in the darkness of the amazing underworld. Some caves burrowed under the mountains like great reaching tendrils, their rocky ceilings more than eighty feet high and sculptured with long stalactites.

  There were skeletons of animals with huge curving tusks that were massive in size, and caves that were filled with the skulls and bones of dragons. Cavern graveyards were crowded with colossal size human remains and Tanamar dated the skeletons back to The Age of Giants.

  For more than twenty years, Tanamar excavated and documented the region alone. His findings he kept secret and had no intention of sharing his knowledge with anyone – until now.

  He rode towards a small farmhouse located deep in the Timberlands with his new son in his arms. He decided to raise the child as his own, and they could discover the mysteries of the caves together. He would no longer be alone.

  Tanamar rode his horse up close to the front porch of the old homestead. Standing on the faded planks of wood was an old man stooped with age and possessing a stern pinched face that showed a sour expression.

  “Tanamar,” wheezed the old man.

  “Jarkel,” replied Tanamar while holding the child comfortably. “Meet my new son.”

  Jarkel stood eyeing the child. “What do you want?” he said with distaste.

  “May we come into your house and talk? I could use the rest from my long travels, and the child could use some milk – if you have some to spare, that is.”

  Tanamar carefully climbed down from his horse and stood before the old man. Jarkel scowled at the child, then he gave a biting si
gh and moved slowly to enter his small house made of thick logs, and the healer followed.

  Tanamar sat down on a wooden chair before a small table while Jarkel went into another room to fetch a small cup of fresh goat milk. Tanamar held the child and he took the small cup that Jarkel offered and he carefully tipped it to let tiny drops slip into the child’s mouth.

  “Thank you,” Tanamar said graciously. “We have ridden far.”

  “Why did you come here?” Jarkel replied tiredly.

  Tanamar had known Jarkel and his family for many years, and when an epidemic claimed the life of the old man’s wife and two sons, Jarkel blamed the world, and Tanamar with it.

  “I am going to Arani City to stay with some friends,” said Tanamar as he got ready to leave. He did not want to overstay his visit because he knew he was not welcome.

  “You could have saved them, you know,” said the sour old man.

  Tanamar stopped what he was doing and looked over at Jarkel. He felt bad for the old man. He was saddened when he heard the horrible news of his family, and he wished he could have been there to help, but he was living in Asarian City at the time.

  “I’m sorry,” was all Tanamar could say. That’s all he could ever say because he didn’t have the heart to argue with the old man. He said thank you and good-bye to Jarkel, who responded with nothing, and Tanamar mounted his horse with the babe in his arms and set out for Arani City.

  Late that evening, Jarkel sat at his small table drunk on ale and swimming in self-pity. He cursed Tanamar yet again and blamed the world for all his losses.

  “Curse you, Tanamar!” he yelled again, this time a little louder, then again louder still.

  A strong wind was blowing outside as a large storm moved over the Timberlands. Jarkel’s house moaned and creaked and the trees outside began to roar as the wind poured through their leaves, pushing on them and causing the trees themselves to bend.

  Jarkel sat staring into the swirling depths of his half empty mug and listened to the noises of the storm. A soft rattle of chains could be heard outside the front door and Jarkel placed his mug on the table and slowly rose to his feet. He stumbled to the front door and opened it slowly as the force of the wind pushed against him.

  Jarkel peered into the darkness of the outside. There was a full moon that was bright in the sky, but dark clouds were present, and they blocked out the light for brief moments. Suddenly, a powerful burst of wind tore the door open, and Jarkel was nearly thrown to the floor. He stumbled at the entryway as the moon came free from the clouds and Jarkel could see an animal as it sat in the dirt not far from his porch.

  The old man reached for the door and battled with the wind to try and close it. He watched the creature start to advance, and it slowly crawled in the dirt towards his front porch. Jarkel panicked as he struggled to close the door, and he pushed against it to force it closed. He could see the animal as it moved closer and closer, crawling through the blowing debris of the storm and up onto his old wooden porch.

  Jarkel nearly had the door closed and was pushing with all his might when the creature advanced to the doorway and stood face to face with him. Jarkel pulled his head back and screamed at the sight of the woman. Her eye sockets were vacant, yet she seemed to stare into his eyes. She just stood there as he forced the door closed and pulled down a small latch in the right-hand corner in a sad effort to secure it.

  “What do you want?” Jarkel yelled, but there was no response other than the cry of the storm as it battered the small house and surrounding forest. The soft rattle of chains could be heard moving away from the front door to become lost in the storm.

  Jarkel stood breathless as he listened carefully at the door, waiting quietly. Then, the noise of the chains could be heard again, softly at first, but then growing louder quickly. The fierce rattle was right up against the door and the wood exploded open, sending Jarkel to the floor.

  The strong wind blew dirt and dust through the opening, but Jarkel could clearly see the naked woman as she stood up from the wreckage in the doorway. She looked down at the helpless old man, her empty sockets only adding to the look of hatred as she advanced toward him. She pounced and began clawing fiercely and biting at his face, and Jarkel screamed wildly and fought with the creature. He tried desperately to kick her away, but to no avail as she overpowered his frail form and tore at his flesh until he was dead.

  ********************

  Tanamar stood at the second-story window and watched the children running down in the large courtyard below. The two children were playing tag, chasing each other through the mazes of fantastic flower gardens and over long arcing bridges that spanned small ponds full of exotic fish.

  It had been just over three years since he had arrived in Arani City and was welcomed by his long-time friend, Palleor Fastideous, who was a wealthy merchant owning a prominent estate. Tanamar and the child moved into the large house and lived with the merchant and his family.

  Palleor was married to a beautiful Dishoni woman named Teaona and they had a sparkling young daughter named Isella. The small girl was almost ten and she had the same dark complexion and exotic look that her mother had. She was dressed in a long, flowing, yellow dress and she laughed as she chased the young boy around a large fountain that sprayed water high into the air.

  The boy was Tanamar’s son, and even though he was only three years of age, he was seemingly more like twelve. His name was Kadomi and he had grown fast and at an abnormal rate – his thick black hair and dark eyes giving him a rough look to match his demeanor. He was extremely smart, although he hardly spoke, and he understood everything and learned quickly. His mind was sharp, and he never forgot a lesson learned. No one had an explanation for the boy’s rapid growth, although some whispered of magic.

  Tanamar watched as the young Isella nearly tagged the agile Kadomi before he ducked back into the maze of tall green bushes. Isella squealed in frustration and sprinted to catch the incredibly fast boy, but it was obvious she never would unless he allowed her to, which he did quite often. Kadomi was obsessed with Isella, and over time, became quite protective of her.

  Kadomi also had a talent for communicating with animals. He spent time with the household pets, and the animals became much smarter and better trained. Palleor had a wild gray stallion named Chaotic that could not be broken and all that attempted were thrown far and hard to the ground. Men from all over the Eastern Kingdom would travel to Arani City just for a chance at taming the dominant steed, but all were thrown and sent away sore and broken themselves.

  Then one day, a cry rose from out of the courtyard, begging everyone to come and see. Palleor and Tanamar ran to the window and looked out, worried as to what they would witness. On the far side of the grand courtyard was a small corral where they kept the gray stallion. Chaotic stood tall and unmoving, almost majestic like the horse of a king. On its back sat Kadomi and he stroked the animal’s neck while whispering into its ear. Everyone on the estate stood in awe as they watched the boy ride Chaotic.

  After he was done, the horse knelt and Kadomi slid off and walked away. A large man that worked in the stables tried to ride the stallion soon after, and he was thrown immediately and given shattered ribs for his troubles.

  Tanamar watched as the boy chased after the girl. Isella screamed as she ran and Kadomi was always just out of reach and barely too slow.

  “Tanamar, did you hear what was said?” The old healer turned from the window and moved back over to the table where a small group of men sat. He joined them tiredly and again was asked the question. “Did you hear the news from the messenger?” asked Palleor again. The wealthy merchant was a middle-aged man with short light-brown hair and a thin mustache. “Five more bodies turned up in Sidlers Forest. That makes close to fifty in the last two years.”

  “I heard,” replied Tanamar.

  “There are also more wolves in the forest,” Palleor said.

  “Three years ago, I would hunt in those very woods and never once
did I see a wolf,” commented a man named Graff, who worked for Palleor and was a friend to the family.

  “Now the place is crawling with them,” said Crate, another man employed by the merchant. “It’s like something is drawing them to the forest.”

  “Here we go again,” mocked Graff, a young man with a thin build and light-yellow hair. “More talk of dark magic.”

  “No, hear me out,” replied Crate, a heavy-set man in his mid-twenties. “I have a cousin that lives near Starcrest, and she has a neighbor that has seen strange sights near the forest. Then there was the disappearance of Mosley and Miss Teartly.”

  “And Jarkel,” said Graff, encouraging his friend and co-worker.

  “That’s right,” replied Crate and he motioned toward Tanamar. “Tanamar knew Jarkel, and even he thinks it strange that he has not been seen in three years.”

  Tanamar nodded his head but said nothing.

  Another man entered the room and whispered words into Palleor’s ear.

  “Bring him in,” said Palleor and the messenger left quickly. “Now we will hear what your book has to say.”

  The wooden box that Tanamar had found floating in the wreckage of the ship three years prior had contained a leather-bound journal with stained crisp pages. Most of the writings were done in an unknown language, and there were codes and pictured graphs that were indecipherable. Palleor had spread the word to all his fellow merchants about the mysterious journal and asked them to help find someone to translate it.

  An older man with a heavy build soon entered the room. He was dressed in a long flowing robe of bright colors and a red silk turban sat upon his head. He had dark skin and a long grey beard that framed a kind face. Fancy chains hung around his neck and rings decorated each finger as he was garnished with jewelry. He was accompanied by a thin boy of thirteen summers who was dressed in simple tan garb. The youth had thick black hair and a dark complexion with almond shaped eyes that were darker still.