The Ageless Giant

by B K Suitter

  Quickly, the boy sprinted off towards the forest and scooped up the baby lion as he broke into the trees. He could hear the Hill Kadomi as they reached the valley floor and began the chase, yelling out their taunting cries and howling like the animals they were.

  The boy raced with unmatched speed but was hindered by the weight and awkwardness of the lion cub. He leapt around trees and crossed through cold mountain streams at a slower pace, and soon the other Kadomi began to close in on him. They cried out and encouraged their fellow hunters on like a pack of wolves near to their prey.

  The boy kept running, ducking under branches, jumping over fallen trees and quick stepping over stretches of huge mountain rocks. Still the hunters came on and the boy felt his impending death pound in his chest as he sprinted along while gasping for breath. He could see the edge of a cliff getting closer as he ran through the obstacle course that was the wilderness, and he could hear the roar of a waterfall and he ran in that direction. He was give-out and would be killed if caught, so he ran towards the high mountain bluff and jumped into the river where it spilled over the side and both he and the lion cub cascaded hundreds of feet down to a small lake below.

  ******************

  The Kadomi boy walked alongside a wide mountain stream. He was a black lion; fully grown with a proud silver mane that grew thick around his head and neck. He stopped near the cold waters and bent his massive head down to get a drink, and as he lapped at the refreshing stream, he looked into the water and saw his reflection, and he was a man.

  His heart jumped and he opened his eyes to a sudden gasp of air. Immediately, he saw a man kneeling over him holding out a long silver chain with a glowing charm.

  The Kadomi boy crawled back away from the human quickly and watched as the shimmering orb in the center of the amulet stopped glowing. The man slowly stood and put the necklace on around his neck and allowed the boy some time to come to his senses. The monk wore a faded yellow robe and he stood there quiet with a bald head and peaceful demeanor. He had found the boy stretched out alongside the icy waters of the mountain river.

  The boy remembered the black lion cub and he stood quickly and his head rushed with blood. He nearly went down, but he balanced himself as he scanned the area in a desperate search.

  “It ran into the trees,” said the monk, still just standing with clarity and very subtlety pointing in one direction.

  “What?” the boy asked in confusion, wondering how the man was able to speak the Kadomi language, which would have been the same as learning the tongue of the wolf.

  “The black lion cub, I healed it first because it was closer to death. You were clutching it protectively to your chest so I knew you wouldn’t mind if I saved the animal first. My name is Tamos and your thanks is not necessary,” the monk gave the boy a hint of a smile. “I was traveling through the mountains with faith and guidance from Carami, and He led me to you and allowed me to save your life.”

  “How are you speaking my language?” the Kadomi boy simply asked.

  Tamos smiled and chuckled. “Dear boy, you are speaking mine.”

  The boy thought for a moment, separating the differences in dialects. He could still speak and understand the Kadomi tongue, but now he could understand and speak man’s language as well.

  “How is this possible? I am Kadomi and have never learned your language,” the boy asked in a bewildered manner.

  “I had to use The Gift of Carami,” the monk said in all seriousness as he grabbed at the amulet around his neck. “Your injuries were too severe to be healed without it. You should be thankful that blessed Carami has found use for you, or you would be dead.”

  “What?” the boy asked, sounding confused as ever. “Nothing you have said makes any sense,” and Tamos the Monk chuckled at that. “How is it I can speak your language? How do I now understand the desires of man?” the Kadomi boy asked, looking to the monk for answers.

  “You will be fine, boy,” Tamos spoke with a gentle tongue. “Soon, you will find The Gift has changed you in many ways, always for the better. But you must decide if your new knowledge and special gifts will be used for the betterment.”

  The two walked the wilderness path together after the boy located the lion cub. They talked long into the night as they traveled through the moonlit forest, sharing ideas with each other about their cultures, and stopping at one point to build a small fire to push back the mountain cold. The boy talked of his life and the simple animal ways of the Kadomi, and he told the monk of his clan and how his father and brothers were murdered and how it made him burn with anger.

  “You must let it go,” Tamos said as they sat by the fire, the moon spilling its glow down on the vast wilderness. “Your rage will only consume you. You are on another path now. You must find your destiny, for all men have one, and you are now a man.”

  The boy looked at the monk with hatred, despising him briefly for saying such a thing. He was so confused and wondered at the possibilities he had now, his ideas to make a life of his own. But he had to go back. He had to deliver the bad news of his father, the once great Garriusus, and his brothers. He had to get revenge and incite his mountain clan into dealing with the vile Bastion.

  The two sat in silence for a short time longer, and then the Kadomi rose and thanked the monk for all he’d done and went off into the dark with the lion cub in tow.

  He went back to living with his mountain clan, even attempting at one point to gather a mob to go against the vicious hill tribe and kill Bastion. But too few rallied to his cause. The Kadomi simply thought that his father was killed in the wilderness because he was not strong enough to survive. Animals survive or they die.

  For the next two years the boy lived with the Kadomi and used his hatred for Bastion to fuel his animal spirit, which he found to be more powerful than ever, now that he carried The Gifts of Carami. The boy became an adult, a Kworlar, and soon he found a mate, a desirable Mountain Kadomi with a strong animal spirit of her own. She gave the clan four children and then moved on to another mate, which was the Kadomi way, but to the man with the new Gifts of Carami, it seemed rather strange and he began to feel out of place.

  Over time, most of the Kadomi ways soon lost their roots in the man and he decided one night to gather his few belongings, as well as two of his children, and set out for the human world. He walked out of a dark mountain cave into the world that belonged to man with a small boy and a tough little girl close behind. He decided it was time for a human name and a word popped into his head as if Carami had already decided it for him. Cataclys, and it meant to cleanse with destruction and purity. Cataclys looked down at his children and their names were brought to his thoughts as well – Minx for the little girl, and Cogaro for his son. Their animal spirits were strong, and they were growing fast.

  Cataclys took his small family, and the black lion he had named Madion, deep into the Timberlands where he built a sturdy log cabin and went his way about becoming human. They lived off the land, hunting wildlife and farming small gardens. His two children grew quickly, both reaching Kworlar by the age of seven. Cataclys decided to introduce them to the world of man and took them to Arani City, where they got into trouble, all three.

  They entered The Smoking Horn and found it crawling with men and women, all of them loud and most of them drunk. Cataclys and his son, Cogaro, were dressed in the common wear of frontier folk and carrying small hunting knives.

  Minx, however, wore only the hides of the animals she hunted with, and barely that. She was stunning. She was inches over six feet tall and even taller in her knee-high leather boots. She was strong with well toned muscles in both her legs and upper body, which she barely clothed. Minx wore the pelt of a white wolf wrapped around her firm breasts and back, leaving her shoulders and arms exposed, as well as her toned mid-section and most of her back. Around her waist she wore the rest of the wolf fur, but the wrap was small and quite seductive. Her hair was jet black – long and wild like the mane of a lionsteed, and
her eyes were a clear blue like the orbs of a glacier wolf. She had beautiful strong facial features with smooth dark skin that gave her an exotic look, an alluring glow.

  The human men and some of the women gave Minx lewd remarks that sent their teeth flying from their mouths. The entire tavern erupted into a sea of chaos as Minx and Cogaro began beating the humans with ease. Cataclys tried to get his children to stop and got caught up in the fray. In the end, they were tossed into the city dungeon by a large force of Arani soldiers. After four days of sitting behind bars, they were escorted out of Arani City with warnings not to return.

  The three then traveled to Starcrest, another large city in the Eastern Arani Kingdom, and again found themselves at a busy tavern, but this time Cataclys made his daughter wear a long covering cloak.

  They sat at a reclusive table in the back of the large room that was bustling with drunken patrons and loud barmaids which seemed to start as many fights as they tried breaking up.

  One barmaid in particular, who was obviously in charge of the room and keeping the peace, came and stood next to a table that was close to where Cataclys and his two children sat. There were four large men groping and grabbing at the serving wenches and they were calling out lewd comments to the women.

  “You boys looking for trouble?” the large barmaid asked unkindly.

  “Nothing we can’t handle,” one of the burly men answered while the others laughed and eyed the woman with distaste.

  “You’d be surprised what you can’t handle,” the woman replied. She was large herself, like a frontier’s woman with broad shoulders, thick legs and wide hips. She was quite bosomy and her thick, wild, red hair stirred emotions in Cataclys that had been long forgotten.

  “Beat em silly, Bersena!” one of the serving girls cried out.

  “Ya, whoop em good!” cried another.

  “Yes, Bersena,” said the largest of the four ruffians as he slowly rose to stand before her. “Whoop me good.”

  “If you leave now, there won’t be any trouble,” said Bersena, standing her ground.

  “But I’m looking for trouble,” replied the large bearded man. “Would that be you, wench?”

  Bersena smiled, then slapped the man so hard it rocked him back a step. Immediately the man struck out, launching a heavy fist that went over Bersena’s head when she ducked. She quickly stood and hit the man again, but with a large solid fist that staggered him yet again. She then took two steps back and stood close to Cataclys, who sat quietly at his table with Cogaro and watched. Minx, however, kept shouting out encouraging words, helping to spur the woman on.

  The large man collected himself and advanced on Bersena, throwing a heavy right hook at the woman’s head. She ducked again and as she slipped out to the side, she planted a hard elbow to the man’s sternum, causing him to gasp and lurch forward over Cataclys’s table. Minx and Cogaro sat up and grabbed the brute while raining down solid blows on the man’s head and back. Cataclys grabbed onto one of his arms and pulled, keeping him flat on the table while his children landed blow after blow.

  The other three ruffians stood, shocked at what was happening to their comrade. Bersena put her hands up and stepped forward, challenging the next man to come on. All three advanced on the woman, but Minx and Cogaro flew past her and met the oncoming men first with fists, elbows, head-butts and knees. They struck with the speed and precision of a wintercat, laying the three men low quickly. When they were done beating the men bloody to the floor, the whole tavern went deathly quiet. Cataclys let go of the man he had stretched out across the table and he slid to the floor with a heavy thump.

  “Thanks for the help, though I wasn’t for needing it,” said Bersena. Cogaro just shrugged and went back to the table while the other patrons of the tavern went on with their own business.

  “Of course you didn’t,” replied Minx, “but we weren’t about to let you have all the fun.” The two women laughed and then Bersena stepped over to stand before Cataclys.

  “You’re new in town,” Bersena said sweetly, almost blushing and with a twinkle in her eye and a lewd smile on her face. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “I think you all know how the story ends,” Simeon Redsword said, finishing his amazing tale.

  “I don’t!” cried Tye, sitting on the ground near to the campfire and right in front of Simeon, who sat comfortably against a large boulder.

  “Boy!” yelled Simeon. “Where have you been? Were you raised in a hole? Everyone knows that Cataclys lives with his kids and Bersena deep in the Timberlands. She has even given him more children, although they’re nothing like Minx and Cogaro. Those two are straight Kadomi and will kill you quick if you go looking for them. And with Madion always near, you wouldn’t want to be poking around their part of the forest.”

  “Cataclys sounds amazing. Do you think I’ll ever get to meet him?” asked Tye, sounding tired from the long road and ready for sleep.

  “Probably not, and you should be thankful, ya darned fool, for if Minx got a hold of ya,” and Simeon left it at that as the other men around the camp laughed lewdly and encouraged the boy to go out and find her.

  There was a chill in the air on the road north through the Eastern Arani Kingdom, and the Riverwatchers slept in fits, dreaming and wondering about the dreaded watchtower – Eight.

  16

  Year of the Frost Horn 2318 A.A.

  The rails on the dogsled spit chunks of ice and snow to both sides as Spirit Wind drove his team on. It was just after dark and a long stretch of Northern tundra lay wide before him. The mountain range known as The Vault of the Gods was far off to the north and they stood towering in shadow, appearing more like an enormous black wall that was endless in both directions.

  Another team of dogs pulled their sled and rider parallel to Spirit Wind, and his glacier wolf, Whitestar, was pulling hard as she ran neck and neck with a large black husky named Avalanche. The Northern husky had raced The Ice Pack many times, moving up in the rankings to be the number two dog in the poles. His owner was a young man by the name of Teres Astericlay, who was Arani born but spent most of his time living and training in the North. His father was a rich Arani merchant who spared no expense when it came to his son and dogs in hopes of winning The Ice Pack.

  The other dog teams stretched far back along the trail while Spirit Wind and Teres battled for the lead, and they both yelled out to encourage their teams on. Whitestar and Avalanche pounded their large paws furiously through the crust of snow, digging for traction and trying to edge forward ahead of the other dog while the harnessed snow huskies in the lines behind them pulled as hard as they could.

  Spirit Wind’s sled tilted to the right, forcing him to step off his runner and throw his leg out into the uneven terrain to gain balance. His booted foot slid deep into the snow before it found solid ground and the young Dishoni almost lost it, holding on tight to the sled’s handles and using every ounce of strength to keep the sled from tipping over.

  Whitestar felt the moment of desperation in the line and it cost her a step, stumbling in the uneven snows, going face first into the ice before quickly getting all four paws back underneath her and continuing on. Spirit Wind’s team all lost a step and he cursed himself for almost losing control as the mushers approached Bitter Town, an isolated mining settlement deep in the cold North and on the trail of The Ice Pack. He pulled into the Northern mining town well before midnight and crossed the second stage finish line a nose behind Teres and his team, and the large crowd of race followers cheered for Avalanche.

  Later that evening, Spirit Wind sat at a table with a mug of dark ale and listened to Teres talk of his second stage victory over and over to whomever cared to listen. They sat together at a small table in a crowded tavern that was loud with cheer and warm with the fires that crackled and popped in large open hearths. Most of the other Ice Pack mushers had checked in for the night, kenneled their dogs, and were now enjoying an evening off the trail.

  “A second stage victory m
eans nothing,” Spirit Wind said to the large Northman that had stopped at their table to listen to Teres boast.

  “It’s everything!” Teres challenged. “It means I get first position when dawn breaks, and being more than halfway to Snowflake and the finish line, well, let’s just say I’m already closer than you are,” and Teres raised his mug to the Northman, who in kind banged his mug hard against it, and dark ale went sloshing all over a cursing Teres. The large Northman just laughed and walked away.

  “Why do they have to be such brutes!?” the pampered Teres whined as he rudely grabbed at a serving girls bar towel and began wiping the ale from his expensive lavender shirt. The serving girl, who was a woman of the North, slapped Teres hard and took back her towel. Spirit Wind laughed hard until the tavern door banged open and a small group of bulky Asarian men came into the crowded room with the blowing storm. They were dressed in heavy coats and furs and all of them had mangy black beards. They came in and eyed the busy tavern before heading for the bar and ordering tall mugs of dark ale.

  Two more Asarians entered through the heavy oak doors of the crowded tavern and Spirit Wind immediately recognized them as the men that were looking for him in Iron City. They scanned the large smoky room until their eyes fell upon him, then they walked to a table and sat down with a few other men that looked to be Asarian as well.