The Ageless Giant

by B K Suitter

  “Hello, my friends,” said the man as he entered the room. “My name is Halzot and it is good to meet you all.” He spoke with a heavy accent that told the men at the table he was not from Asaria.

  “You are welcome in my home, Halzot,” replied Palleor as he stood and motioned to an empty chair. “Please sit with us and enjoy the meal that has been prepared in your honor,” and Palleor nodded to his servants to begin bringing in the food and fine wine.

  Halzot nodded his head and respectfully sat down while the small boy stood motionless behind him.

  “Come sit over here, boy,” said Crate as he offered the empty chair that was next to him.

  “His name is Timlon, and he is fine where he is,” replied Halzot kindly.

  “What is he – your slave?” joked Crate and he laughed.

  Halzot’s face turned to stone and he gave the foolish man a frozen glare. “I do not care for that word,” he said icily. “It seems I have made a mistake in coming here,” and he rose from his chair.

  “Please, sir,” Palleor amended quickly, “he means no offense.” Then he turned to Crate with restrained anger. “Apologize to my guest before you leave to clean the stalls.”

  Crate sat there with a hurt expression on his simple face, looking as if he felt he did nothing wrong. “But Palleor, I was just joking.”

  “Apologize!” Palleor yelled.

  “I am sorry, sir,” Crate said, looking down at his nervous hands.

  “Now go,” Palleor said and Crate rose from his chair and quickly left the room. “Please,” Palleor said to Halzot as he motioned toward the empty chair.

  Halzot hesitated and played a man insulted, but grudgingly, he sat back down just as servants with plates full of food and drink swarmed the tables. Soon, all the men were eating fresh fruits and tender pieces of steak from Palleor’s finest stock. They drank the finest wine, washing down chunks of buttered bread and exotic cheeses.

  After Halzot was done, he put more of the wonderful food on his plate and served it to the boy behind him. Timlon respectfully took the meal and then turned and moved to a corner of the room and sat down. He gingerly picked at the food, being precise and showing the best of manners.

  “You need someone to translate a book for you, and normally I would not bother with such a tiresome chore,” and Halzot turned to the boy who was still eating. “Kadomi,” he said, and the boy gave him a haunted look.

  The room became clustered with servants as they cleaned up the evening meal. The men and the strange boy all moved to a comfortable sitting room and Tanamar took out the leather journal and gently handed it to Halzot. The man opened the book and Timlon quietly peeked over his shoulder and started reading passages into Halzot’s ear. The man listened intently and after brushing quickly through most of the pages, the boy stepped back and Halzot spoke.

  “Have you heard of The Treasure of a Hundred Lords?” he asked them, and they looked at one another and shook their heads.

  “It is told,” Halzot began, “that nearly one hundred years ago, a pirate by the name of Roninsay…,” and he was interrupted.

  “Kadomso,” the boy spoke softly, as if correcting the man. Halzot smiled and continued on.

  “Roninsay,” he said, and again was cut short.

  “Kadomso,” Timlon whispered again over his shoulder. The men were all sitting in comfortable chairs and Timlon stood close behind Halzot.

  “I know,” he spoke kindly, “I know.”

  “What is Kadomso?” Tanamar asked.

  “It means,” Halzot said hesitantly, “it means monster or god-like creature.”

  “Both,” the boy whispered.

  “It is the boy’s native language and he has been teaching me their culture and tongue, but some words are confusing. For example, the word Kadomi means children of the monster that corrupts all men,” and Halzot shook his head with subtle confusion.

  “That’s the boy’s name,” Graff said and Tanamar hushed him. It was true; he had named his son after one of the words used in the journal. He did not know what the word meant, but he liked the sound of it. But now to learn that Kadomi meant “children of a beast,” he wasn’t so sure he could keep the boy’s name as it was.

  “Which boy would that be?” Halzot inquired.

  “It is the name of my son,” Tanamar replied. “I named him after the word, not knowing what it meant, but liking how it sounded.”

  Halzot smiled and shook his head. “It is just a story,” and Timlon shook his head and whispered that it wasn’t.

  “Anyway, Roninsay the Kadomso,” Halzot clarified, “was a famous and ruthless island pirate. He challenged any and all on the open seas and he hit the mainland and robbed from the coastal lords. He amassed quite a treasure that to this day has never been recovered. The fierce pirate and his dreaded crew simply vanished and there were no more accounts of the raiders. That is where the word ‘Kadomi’ comes from. There were stories supposedly told by Roninsay’s crew that spoke of an island where they kept the massive treasure, and the island was inhabited by creatures that fed on human flesh.”

  Tanamar and the other men listened intently to the story. They watched the small boy quietly feed Halzot with information as he spoke.

  “As you can imagine,” Halzot continued, “there have been countless attempts at finding the secret island. Hundreds of brave captains have ventured out to the endless seas in search of the lost Treasure of a Hundred Lords. Unfortunately, no one has ever found it. Your journal, however, was written by a supposed captain that claims he did.”

  “The captain writes that they sail in search of the mythical Treasure of a Hundred Lords. Most of the entries talk of daily life on the ship as they sail the endless oceans for over a year. There is talk of false maps and directions not followed and the crew whispers of mutiny in order to abandon the failed quest.” Halzot continued to translate the journal through the strange boy while the other men listened intently.

  “There was a mighty storm that nearly finishes the large sailing vessel, but with luck and courage the brave men make it through. They are blown off course and lost at sea, however, and for two more weeks they sail. They have not seen land in over a month and provisions are running low. There is a failed attempt at a mutiny and half the crew is killed. The next day they spot a massive shroud of thick mist and dare to sail through it to find a huge island where they anchor just off the coast.”

  Timlon continued to translate the captain’s log quietly into Halzot’s ear, and he in turn told the men around him the strange tale.

  “During the night the island comes to life. The captain writes of eerie chanting and drums being played continuously. There are horrid screams of death and victory. The inhabitants of the dark, heavily forested island never show themselves and the captain and crew stay awake and alert all night. The next morning, they sail slowly around the immense island and come across what appears to be a long wall of high cliffs. He writes here,” and Halzot pauses as he prepares to read from the journal, the young Timlon whispering and pointing to each word.

  “The rocky cliffs are a thousand feet high and thrice that in length. There is a huge cave entrance in the center, and it is large enough for a galley to sail comfortably through. We take a small boat and row into the dark massive cavern until we find a vast chamber filled with treasure. It is piled high all around us. There is a large pier where a galley could easily dock and load the treasure that surrounds the small lake. We sail back to The Island Queen and rest until dawn. Come morning we will sail into the cavern and load as much of the treasure as we can and then try to find our way home.”

  Halzot sat back comfortably in his chair as he turned yet another brittle page. Timlon whispered in his ear and he listened intently. Palleor, Tanamar, and Graff sat anxiously and waited for the rest of the story.

  “Would you care to read to the good men?” Halzot asked the young boy quietly. Timlon stepped back in fear and he eyed the three men with suspicion. “Come read the last
few entries for us all,” Halzot said as he held out the small book.

  Timlon stared at the journal, and it was obvious that he wanted to finish it. He slowly moved forward while staring at the other men and gently took hold of the book and then stepped back.

  “We are at sea, far from the cursed island. Most of my crew is dead.” Timlon spoke with clarity and the way he read made him appear to be quite intelligent. “My greed will be the death of us all. I sailed The Island Queen into the lair of the vast treasure. We docked inside the huge cavern and soon we were all wading through gold. My men began filling all our chests with treasure, and just as we were to begin loading it onto the ship, they appeared. It seemed as if they came from nowhere. Men and women moving like animals and were quick to the kill. They were dirty and naked, and they made animal noises as they ripped my men apart. Those of us that survived fought bravely back to the ship where we pulled up anchor and slowly drifted out to the center of the cavern’s lake. More and more of the strange inhabitants appeared, but they did not enter the water or pursue in any way. We left the island and the treasure behind and we sail to find home. We will regroup and bring a fleet of ships and an army to take the vast treasure.” Timlon turned another crisp page and then looked up at the men. “This is the last entry,” he said quietly.

  “Surely there’s more,” Graff whispered.

  The boy shook his head and again read from the book.

  “This will be my last entry, for I know I am a dead man. My crew has been slain by the island savages. The creatures followed us out to sea and struck early in the morning, climbing up the side of the galley and coming aboard. There was a fierce battle and most of my men were killed. Two Kadomi savages were caught and put into chains, but the woman, who appeares to be with child, escaped and killed the rest of my crew. She is at my cabin door now and it will not be long before she breaks through and kills me. I am not afraid to die.” Timlon turned the page and showed the men that the rest of the pages were blank. Then the boy carefully handed the book back to Halzot and stepped once again behind him.

  “Where did you find the book, if you don’t mind my asking?” Halzot inquired.

  Tanamar sat quiet as he digested all he had learned. Kadomi was a strange boy, but could he become a vicious killer like his mother?

  “I found it on the shore of Shipwrecker Cove not far from where a galley sat wrecked upon the rocks,” Tanamar replied.

  “The Island Queen?” Halzot asked.

  “I suppose,” replied Tanamar as he stood from the table and walked over to the open window to see Kadomi and Isella sitting near the fountain in the center of the courtyard below. He began to wonder if it was safe to keep the boy here at his friend’s estate much longer, and soon, plans to travel back to his home in the hills to the east began to take root.

  The men talked till it was late in the evening and Palleor offered Halzot and the strange boy a room for the night, but the old man graciously declined and after a short time, they left.

  Later that night, Tanamar sat in his room at a small table and wrote in his journal near candlelight. He recorded all that he had learned that evening about the strange journey of The Island Queen and her doomed crew. He had kept a running journal for the past ten years, writing down all his discoveries in the mysterious caves he called home. He wrote of his incredible adventure at Shipwrecker Cove, the rescue of his new son from the beast-like woman that nearly claimed his life, and the raising of the boy at Palleor’s estate. He knew that one day his story would be told, and he would be the one telling it through his many journals.

  Tanamar stayed with Palleor and his wife for several more days before finally deciding that the time had come. He was ready to move back to the caves he called his home, and he would feel relieved to isolate the strange Kadomi child. The more time the boy spent with the young Isella, the more he became obsessed with her.

  When the time came to leave the estate, Kadomi became enraged and almost uncontrollable, even after Palleor had generously given him the wild horse named Chaotic. Kadomi kept grabbing at Isella and steering her toward the horse, which was strangely calm and kneeling so Kadomi could climb aboard. Tanamar interfered with the boy’s repeated attempts until Palleor and his wife simply took their young daughter back into the house.

  Tanamar spent the morning convincing Kadomi that it was time to leave, and at long last the two were mounted and heading down the road. Kadomi formed his first real sentence that day.

  “I be back for you, Isella,” Kadomi said repeatedly.

  They headed east with a small caravan, traveling for several days before coming to the long stretch of wilderness known as the Timberlands. They separated there and Tanamar and Kodomi traveled the northern trail that just skimmed the wall of trees. They spent the night at a small campground where a warm fire burned in a deep pit. Tanamar sat on the earthen ground against a downed tree and wrote in his journal while Kadomi balanced on one of the tree stumps and stared out into the night. A black wolf had been following the pair since they left the merchant caravan and turned north. It sat quiet twenty yards from their campsite just in front of the thick tree line, which was dancing with shadows from the campfire’s light.

  “That’s a timber wolf,” Tanamar said. “Those woods are the Timberlands.”

  Kadomi just sat there and eyed the animal.

  The next day and night were uneventful and by the second day, the wolf was traveling with them.

  “Timber,” said Kadomi, gesturing to the wolf and Tanamar did not complain.

  The next evening they were camped just west of Shipwrecker Cove. There were others traveling north and they camped in the clearing as well. Tanamar sat on a small grassy hill and looked out to the long inlet that stretched for miles. There was a bright moon and it cast an unnatural glow down upon the shoreline where Tanamar had first pulled the small child from the Kadomi woman’s back. He played the horrific scene over in his mind as if watching it safely from a distance. He remembered the desperate chase and how he jumped into the cold water to get away. The thought brought a cold chill to rack his spine and he looked over to see Kadomi sitting with Timber at their small campsite.

  He was about to turn away when he noticed a strange figure shrouded in the shadows of the nearby forest a hundred feet from where he sat. Tanamar blinked and it was gone, and he stared hard at the tree-line to see it again. The bright campfires caused shadows to dance across the trees and Tanamar envisioned Kadomi’s mother standing in front staring at him with hate through her empty eyesockets.

  The next day Tanamar and Kadomi traveled east into the hills along the tall cliffs of Shipwrecker Cove. He could look down at the churning waters and see the tall sprouting rocks that had gored The Island Queen long ago. There was no sign of her now, but Tanamar could still remember the sight of the wrecked ship.

  Tanamar and Kodomi rode until evening and at long last they arrived at a large cave entrance where he had originally made his home all those years ago. Tanamar was about to unhorse when Kadomi spoke.

  “My… mother,” he said, and chills ran down the old man’s spine. Standing only twenty yards away was the woman of all Tanamar’s nightmares. She was tall, and dirt covered her naked body as she stared hard at Tanamar through hollowed sockets. She was surrounded by a pack of wolves – some pacing nervously around her while others sat quiet.

  Kadomi watched as his mother began to advance and the wolves circled forward with her. Tanamar’s adopted son turned to him and formed his last sentence.

  “You… should…go, Tanamar,” Kadomi said.

  Tanamar’s heart broke as he looked at the boy whose face held no expression. He nodded to his son and with a strong regret, kicked his horse into action. Immediately, the wolves gave chase, barking and growling as they ran after him. Even the Kadomi woman started after Tanamar, but then a loud harsh command echoed all throughout the surrounding hills as Kadomi shouted out from astride Chaotic’s back. The wolves broke off from their pursuit and
the woman slowed to a reluctant stop as Tanamar rode away.

  “After that, Tanamar became a wandering herb healer and traveled all throughout the Timberlands as well as the Southern Kingdom,” Allenmar finished the tale to the gentle rocking of the Iron Horse as it sped its way west to the city of Snowflake.

  “That’s it?” Aliha asked. “What about Kadomi and his gruesome mother?”

  “I believe they started to mate like animals,” replied Daphaxian with a long grin and a charming wink.

  “What?” cried Aliha.

  “No, they did not mate, you crude ruffian,” Gideon remarked. “A year later, Kadomi rode his stallion back to Palleor’s estate and kidnapped Isella. There were witnesses to the event, but with mixed stories. Some had said the girl was taken by force, while others say Isella leapt from her balcony and rode away with the boy.”

  “Ah,” Aliha said, putting her hands together and holding them close to her chest. “That’s so romantic.”

  “Romantic!” Daphaxian, Prince Allenmar, and Gideon all said together.

  “Yes, romantic,” said the imposing Gretta as she walked up to join them. She had been sitting with Bearok at the front of the rail car but took interest in the story at the end. “Romance is something you three animals know nothing about.”

  “Animals?” said Daphaxian and Prince Allenmar at the same time with hurt expressions. They looked at each other and briefly scowled to the other. Then they turned back to Gretta and Daphaxian spoke foolishly.

  “Ice Queen,” he said with a charming smile while holding out his hands.

  “Don’t call me that,” Gretta said threateningly and Daphaxian smiled all the wider. “And you,” the Beoraki princess turned her anger to Prince Allenmar, who sat quietly next to Aliha. “You forgot the most important part to your little story.”

  “The most important part?” Allenmar questioned.

  “Ok,” Gretta said with disgust and she turned to Bearok who still sat comfortably at the front of the rail car. “Bearok,” Gretta called out, “I’m getting angry, so will you please bring your sword.”