The Ageless Giant

by B K Suitter

  “C’mon, Spirit Wind,” Teres said loudly, throwing back the rest of his ale and then making a sad attempt at a manly belch. “Buy me a drink for besting you on the ice today.”

  “You don’t need another drink, and you got lucky out there on the flats,” Spirit Wind replied, still eyeing the Asarians sitting across the room. The two men he watched were clearly watching him as well. He needed a distraction so he could leave the busy tavern without being followed, and in the North, distractions were never rare.

  Two large men from the North began arguing loudly. They both rose from their chairs and tossed the heavy wooden table out of their way to stand face to face, spitting as they argued. The Asarians that were sitting at the table watching Spirit Wind had to dive for cover as the table crashed into theirs, sending men and mugs of dark ale in all directions.

  That was all Spirit Wind needed and he was quickly out of his chair and moving through the crowd with such stealth that no one noticed him leave the tavern. When Teres turned back around after watching the two Beoraki rage, Spirit Wind was gone.

  The Dishoni ran through the snow-covered streets, staying to the shadows and watching in all directions. When he was sure he wasn’t being followed, he made his way back to the small inn where he and many of the other men in the race would sleep until early morning. He grabbed his pack and few belongings and then quietly snuck out of his room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where he went unnoticed through the back door.

  The alley he came into was cold and dark and he quickly slipped around the corner and down another long dark alley. He moved with stealth as he made his way to the kennels where he found Whitestar and his team of trusted huskies, and he bed down with them, using thick blankets and the dog’s heat to try and stay warm. When Spirit Wind slept, he dreamt in fits.

  “Why can’t you do it again?” asked the irritated little girl of seven summers. She was Dishoni and her long black hair was braided to the middle of her back.

  “I don’t know,” replied a sad Dishoni boy, who was also seven summers.

  The little girl was named Sunfire, and she just stared angrily at her twin brother, Spirit Wind.

  “Just try it one more time, okay?” said the girl, trying to sound sweet but failing at the attempt.

  “No,” said Spirit Wind, looking into Sunfire’s angry eyes and trying to sound strong. “You burn me every time.”

  “But it doesn’t hurt you,” challenged the girl.

  “It does hurt!” cried the boy.

  “But it doesn’t burn you,” said Sunfire, rolling her eyes.

  “It doesn’t scar me, but it does hurt me. Sometimes I think you do it on purpose. You’re very abusive.” Spirit Wind regretted saying the words as soon as they left his mouth.

  “What?!” The small girl yelled. “You think I’m abusive? Are you serious?!” Sunfire shook with rage and her tiny eyes grew red with fire.

  “Sunfire,” said Spirit Wind, backing up quickly and holding out his hands, preparing to catch the blast. “Don’t do it,” Spirit Wind begged, but it was too late.

  The small girl glowed red with anger and she thrust out her hands and a blast of heat that was veined with thin streaks of fire shot out and wrapped around Spirit Wind. The young boy screamed and danced, twisting his arms around in large circles to gather up the strands of fire. The air began to stir at his feet, causing dirt and leaves to blow in circles around him while mixing with the flames. Then, Spirit Wind sent the burning strands from his sister high into the air, twisting them into spiraling patterns and lighting up the night sky.

  Spirit Wind woke under the crushing weight of Whitestar and two of his huskies, Pepper and Thars, as they laid on him and growled threateningly. He was trapped under heavy blankets but laid still as he sensed the quiet movements of large men creeping about. He could hear gruff whispers as they moved throughout the kennels and searched the area. Spirit Wind could tell they kept coming back to his stall, but each time Whitestar and his team of large huskies made it apparent that the men would not be welcomed.

  Spirit Wind laid under his protective animals until early morning when the hustle of sled dogs and their handlers stirred the quiet kennels to life. He rose from his blankets and packed up his gear, always keeping a sharp eye out for those that searched for him.

  Spirit Wind followed his team of sled dogs and their handlers out to the cold streets where all the other dog teams were preparing for the break of dawn. Busy handlers moved about the animals, checking harnesses and securing packs onto the sleds while mushers prepared themselves for another two days of rough, cold terrain.

  He quickly moved up to second position where his huskies and Whitestar were being fitted into their harnesses and he checked to make sure his packs and gear were secure. Then he stood at the back of his sled and waited.

  Teres was in front of him in first position, and the arrogant Arani musher turned and waved goodbye when he took off as the first rays of the morning sun struck the cold street of Bitter Town. Whitestar and the snow huskies in her line muscled in their harnesses as well, and Spirit Wind balanced on the runners of his sled as it glided across the frozen white snow. The street came alive with dogs yelping and crowds of people shouting, and it was not long before Whitestar and Avalanche raced side by side again, challenging each other as they crossed the North’s brutal tundra.

  *******************

  Captain Torique was not smiling as he leaned against the starboard rail of The Coral Rose and stared out at the endless ocean of blue. His armada had shipped out from Dragonport days earlier, and he had spent his time thinking only of his wife and daughter.

  He watched as the vast assortment of ships rocked and swayed on the endless waves. Five hundred ships sailed out from Dragonport’s docks, and it was a complete unorganized mess. In the last days before they set sail, the massive harbor was swarming with ships, both large and small. Thousands of slaves were being loaded onto them to set sail across the Eastern Sea to help with the colonization of the new land acquired by The Crown. King Uriah had them all believing it was a chance at a better life, but Torique knew better and it sickened him to think he was taking these people to die – and that was putting it mildly. It brought tears to his eyes when he thought of taking these men, women and children to be slaughtered like game on the cursed island.

  It strengthened his resolve to know his wife and daughter were safe back in Dragonport. They were staying at a large mansion with the Chancellor of Commerce and his family. Elizabeth and his darling daughter, Angelica, would be well taken care of until his return. Then, he was promised by Chancellor Gradling that he could retire from The Crown and was even given assurance that he and his family would be relocated at the Chancellor’s expense.

  All Torique had to do was sail The Coral Rose out to sea and five hundred ships would follow. Then, thousands of slaves would be off-loaded onto the new land King Uriah had promised. He shut his eyes to hold back the tears. Everything he did, he did to keep his family safe. He had no doubt he would pay for his atrocities in the next life.

  As Torique looked out across the ocean from the deck of his ship, he thought back to when he walked along the bustling wharf next to the Chancellor of Maritime Operations, who was a tall thin man of middle age, and his lack of chin and beak-like nose gave him a fowl look. He was dressed in the long covering robe of his office, which had dark blue shades mixed in with long stripes of pearl. He wore a small round hat that marked him as an official of The Crown.

  “Keep smiling, Captain.” said the arrogant Chancellor. “These slaves believe you are taking them to the Promised Land,” and he chuckled at his remark and looked over at a somber Torique. “I said smile,” the Chancellor threatened, eyeing the captain with disdain. His guards seemed to press in a little closer as they walked along with the official. Torique smiled and looked out at the harbor that was thick with ships and slaves. Endless lines of people waiting to be loaded onto the vessels that were supposedly headed for a new la
nd. Some had worried looks on their dirty faces while others seemed jovial and in good spirits.

  “Chancellor,” Torique said hesitantly, “would now be a good time to visit my wife and daughter before I depart?”

  The official of The Crown stopped and stared hard into Torique’s eyes. “Your family is your weakness. You would do well in service to The Crown, make a name for yourself and fatten up that bank account. Instead, you throw it all away for a life of hardship with a woman and child that will grow to loath you and your failure.”

  “Yes, sir,” Torique said, “but if I may?” he asked again.

  “Go,” said the Chancellor with a disgusted wave of his hand, “and do not be long.”

  “Thank you, Chancellor,” Torique bowed his head and moved off towards his personal carriage that would take him to the outskirts of the city to the large estate where Elizabeth and Angelica stayed. The carriage was comfortable, and he looked out a small window at the busy shops that lined the cobblestone streets of Dragonport as he passed.

  Torique was anxious to see his wife and he hoped she wasn’t still resentful at being taken from their home in Fantior and relocated to Dragonport. That was how he explained their simple abduction, that they were being moved to the Chancellor of Commerce’s estate until his return from sea, at which time they would then move to Dankar City and have the life they both wanted. Elizabeth was not thrilled by the idea of staying in Dragonport until his return, but she resolved that there was nothing she could do about it.

  Angelica was livid, however. She hated the move and wanted nothing more than to return to her friends and life back in Fantior. She kept saying that the plan was “not perfect” and she pouted and cried in angry tantrums.

  When Torique arrived at the lavish estate, he found his wife and daughter both still irritated and in no mood for a visit.

  “Please, Elizabeth,” Torique begged, “give me another chance to make this right. This will be my last voyage for The Crown, I promise.”

  “I cannot live with your secrets, Torique,” Elizabeth replied coldly. “You are a different man now and you have put Angelica at risk. The soldiers that came to our house to relocate us were not gentle and your daughter and I were groped like tavern wenches!” Elizabeth lashed out in anger and struck her husband with a stinging slap to the face. They were alone in a well decorated sitting room, and Torique knew there were many listeners behind each wall.

  “Calm yourself,” Torique pressed, trying to reach out and grab hold of his wife as she became more hysterical. She fought back, slapping at her husband’s face and pounding hard against his chest as he grabbed her tight and held her close. Elizabeth cried as she tried to push free, but Torique held her there saying over and over that he loved her and would make things right. He promised. He promised.

  As Captain Torique looked out past the rail of The Coral Rose to the massive gathering of merchant ships that decorated the vast ocean of blue, he mouthed the solemn words yet again.

  “I promise.”

  17

  Year of the Frost Horn 2318 A.A.

  Aliha’s attention was drawn to the Leader Board that hung from the railing of a second-story balcony. She was in a crowd that gathered on a cold street in Snowflake and they all watched as two men changed the names on the board to show the placing in The Ice Pack.

  The Northmen’s port city was crammed with men and women from all parts of Asaria. There were Arani from the East and Dishoni from the West, and Asarians from the South gathered for entertainment as well. They were all there for The Ice Pack – the most prestigious event in all the North – and they would all indulge in the fortnight of drinking and gambling.

  The Leader Board was changed, and Spirit Wind’s name was slid into second place while a musher by the name of Teres Astericlay was given the number one position, and there were calls for Avalanche. Other names were moved around as the results from Bitter Town came in by carrier birds – snow falcons and black crows that had flown all night and arrived just that morning. Coin changed hands and there were hardy cheers and harsh grunts of disapproval. Fights broke out and bets were made and coin changed hands again. Soon, the crowd thinned as most of the throng went back into the assortment of connecting two-story buildings that lined the busy streets on both sides. There were taverns, gambling inns, and pleasure houses, as well as Northern bistros where the best foods from all parts of Asaria could be found.

  Aliha stared up at the Leader Board a moment longer. Everything that went on around her seemed strongly familiar and a powerful wave of de-ja-vu struck her and left her mind swimming. She had never been to Snowflake – she knew that. She knew she had never been very far from her home until she came to Asaria with Gideon, but she would almost bet her life that where she was standing, she had stood some time in the past. But it was a ridiculous notion and she let it pass, as she had frequently since arriving in Asaria.

  Aliha stood in the street alongside Princess Gretta and the imposing Northman, Bearok. Timber was at her side, as she always was, and Aliha was thankful for it. The wolf was the only thing she had that connected her to her past, and she looked down at Timber and laid a comforting hand on her head. Timber looked up briefly and then put her attention back on the young lad that stood a few feet away. He was Dishoni and looked to be no more than twelve summers. He wore a heavy coat of bison fur and his straight black hair was braided down to the middle of his back. The boy stood quiet for a short time and stared at the wolf.

  “Would you like to pet her?” Aliha asked kindly.

  The boy nodded and stepped forward and reached out to put a careful hand on Timber’s head. He continued to pet the wolf while Aliha’s attention was drawn to the conversation between Bearok and another large Northman.

  “He has been asking for your whereabouts,” the Beoraki said to Bearok. The Northman grew a thick white beard that matched his long snowy hair and his eyes were clear as ice.

  “I would rather not see my brother,” Bearok replied and Gretta nodded her approval. They were both dressed in heavy furs, Bearok keeping his long black hair braided while Gretta kept her hair tucked under a heavy fur hat.

  “He talked of challenging you,” said the Northman.

  “Then he was drunk,” laughed Bearok.

  “Maybe,” replied the other man from the North.

  Aliha turned her head back around to look again at Timber and found the wolf had been led off by the young Dishoni boy. She spied the two walking slowly up the busy street and she immediately stepped in that direction. She wasn’t worried so she didn’t give chase, but she did trail them and was curious as to how the young boy was able to get Timber to follow him.

  Aliha walked through the swarm of people, trying to keep one eye on Timber as she followed close behind, while another eye watched the different people going about their business and enjoying all the festivities of The Ice Pack. She would peek in through the opening doors of packed taverns as she walked the middle of the snowy street. She blushed when she looked past the open doors of a pleasure house and clearly saw one man kissing two different women and she turned away embarrassed and looked again for Timber, who was lost from her sight.

  Aliha walked a little faster as she moved through the crowd of people until she rounded a corner and found Timber standing in the middle of the street with three large Northmen and the small Dishoni boy. One exceptionally large man from the North walked slowly around the wolf, eyeing her carefully while asking questions to the small boy.

  “Timber,” called Aliha as she stopped in the street after rounding the corner.

  The huge Northmen looked over at the girl who stood alone not a dozen yards from where they were standing. They calmly watched as the wolf padded away from them to stand before the girl, and then they slowly walked in her direction until they towered above her.

  “She is yours?” asked the giant Northman, his voice deep and resonating. He was dressed in heavy furs, which made him look even larger, and Aliha was certain
that this man was equal in stature to the great King Ironheart. She looked up into his eyes and found them to be two intimidating orbs that were black as coal. His thick snow colored hair was long and wild and streaked with black and it surrounded a massive jaw and a large broken nose. He had an angry scar that crossed his face from his large forehead, down between his eyes and across his cheek to his bearded jaw.

  “She doesn’t belong to anyone,” replied Aliha, trying not to sound shaken by the imposing Beoraki. “She is my friend.”

  The three Northmen laughed and the small Dishoni lad that stood behind them grimaced at the wrong answer.

  “Cute,” said the largest of the three men. He nodded to one of his fellow Northmen who held a long iron pole with a wire noose on one end, and quick as an ice snake, the Northman had the noose around Timber’s neck. Timber twisted and jumped, shook and growled. She tried to advance on the large man, snapping her jaws wildly, but the Northman was supreme in his skills and had captured animals far bigger and far more dangerous than the timber wolf.

  Aliha was shocked and furious and she screamed out for the Northman to stop and tried to advance on the man with the pole but was held back by the powerful arm of the great Northman. Aliha quickly turned on the man and lashed out with a series of punches to the Northman’s stomach, groin and jaw. All her strikes were right on target and with all the inner strength that she had, and the huge Northman laughed and pushed her hard to the ground, causing her to roll away while Timber continued to fight and lash out. Aliha rolled twice and came to the booted feet of Gretta, who always seemed to be there when she was needed most.

  “Beorcus, what are you doing?!” Gretta roared and she quickly bent down to help Aliha as she staggered back to her feet.