Taming the Giant_A Kindred tales novel

by Evangeline Anderson

  “There,” she said when she was finished. “Did I die? Am I poisoned? Of course not! I tell you, my people, I have come to offer you life, not death. There is a whole new world waiting for us aboard the Jor’gen Kindred’s Mother Ship.”

  “I will come with you.” Jenla came forward, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright. She was looking not at Alanah, but at Ren, who was standing behind her. “I dreamed of you,” she said in a low voice. “I…I dreamed you needed me.”

  “And so I do, lovely one.” Ren came forward to take her hands in both of his. Leaning down, he pressed gentle kisses into her palms. “I dreamed of you as well, Jenla,” he murmured.

  “I dreamed of that one,” Grenlah the town crier exclaimed loudly, pointing at a strapping Kindred who was even a bit taller than Bram. He came forward and picked her up, spinning her around until she squealed in delight and laid an eager, smacking kiss on his lips.

  After that, many of the women came forward. Young and old, rich or poor, almost everyone, it seemed, had been dreaming of the giants from beyond the stars.

  At last there were only a handful of the sourest and snobbiest noblewomen left. They had clustered around Thiera, as though the Elder Witch could somehow protect them from this new threat.

  Thiera, for her part, looked absolutely furious.

  “Go if you wish,” she cried in a high, dramatic voice. “But know this—each and every one of you will be barren. For I will not say a ritual for any of you who go with these demon spawn. And you—” She stepped forward and poked Alanah in the chest hard, with one pointed finger. “You, my princess, will be damned for all eternity for leading your people into this evil trap.”

  “Don’t touch my female,” Bram growled, stepping between them and glaring down at Thiera. “And no one needs your rituals, Witch. We of the Kindred have our own sacred oils and rites. We are well able to help our females bloom—just as I helped Alanah bloom last night.”

  “Oh, Alanah—is that true?” It was Jenla, looking at her with hope and anxiety written on her pretty face. “Were you really able to bloom without the ritual?”

  “It’s true.” Alanah gave her a reassuring hug. “You need not fear. The Kindred have arts which far surpasses anything the Elder Witch can do. We do not need her—she has no power over us anymore.”

  “No power, eh?” Thiera’s face was a mask of fury. Suddenly she stepped forward and pulled one long, sharp feather from the rustling headdress she wore. Quick as a striking snake, she darted at Alanah.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” Bram moved to intercept her but the Elder Witch didn’t even try to get around him. Instead, she reached out and scratched the back of his hand with the quill end of the pitch-black feather she held.

  “I…you…” Bram took a staggering step back, as though suddenly unsteady.

  “Bram?” Alanah ran to his side just as he slumped to his knees. “Bram, beloved, what is it?” she exclaimed.

  “I…I don’t know. She…she’s done something to me.” His head was hanging low but at last he managed to look up at Alanah.

  What she saw in his face made her gasp in horror.

  “Oh Gods and Goddesses, no…no!” She put a hand to her mouth as though to stifle the cry of terror and grief but she couldn’t hold it back.

  “What? What is it?” Jenla rushed to put her arm around Alanah, supportive as always. But when she saw Bram, she gave a cry too. “The red-eyed death! The plague,” she moaned. “Oh Gods above, no! No, please—not again!”

  For the whites of the big Kindred’s eyes had suddenly turned blood-red. It was an unmistakable sign that death was stalking him.

  “Bram!” Alanah felt tears rise in her eyes, but then her sorrow turned to fury. “You!” She rounded on the Elder Witch, pointing an accusing finger at the older woman. “You did this! You gave my beloved the plague.” Sudden understanding dawned on her. “And you must have given it to my father as well.”

  “And if I did? What of it?” Thiera held her head high, looking down her long nose at Alanah as though she was less than dirt. “He had ruled too long and I was tired of being under his thumb. I knew the only way to take control was to get rid of him.”

  “But…all the other men.” Jenla looked at her numbly. “All the brothers and husbands and sons and fathers and fiancés. I lost my Yulen.”

  “And I lost my Tiffen—my little boy,” another woman said, coming forward.

  “And my husband!”

  “And my little brother, Gareth. He never did anyone any harm—he was only nine!”

  As more and more women came forward, Thiera held up her hands imperiously for silence.

  “It was regrettable that the plague spread from the king to the other males in our kingdom,” she said loudly. “But what does it really matter? What good are men anyway? We are better off without them, are we not?”

  “You may well say that, Thiera,” Alanah said, her voice still shaky with grief and shock. “Because you didn’t lose anyone. In fact, I think you’re the only woman who didn’t.”

  “She killed our men! Our husbands and fathers and sons and brothers!” shouted Grenlah, who had left her tall Kindred to come stand by Alanah and Jenla. “The Witch took everyone we loved and she’s not even sorry!”

  “Stone her!” someone shouted and soon others took up the chant.

  “She killed those we loved!”

  “Kill her!”

  “Hang her!”

  “Stone the Witch! Stone her dead!”

  “No! No, wait!” Alanah gasped, throwing out her arms to stop the mob from surging forward. “Wait, I must get the antidote first! I cannot let another man I love die of the red-eyed plague!”

  But Thiera laughed shrilly in her face.

  “Stone me, Princess, if you dare. But don’t hold out hope I’ll give you the cure—there is no cure.” She pointed her finger at Bram, who was still on his knees, his breathing labored. “He’s dead! Already dead! As dead as that old fool, your father!”

  Alanah couldn’t help herself then. She drew back her hand and slapped the Elder Witch as hard as she could. Then she ran to Bram and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Bram, oh, Bram!” she gasped, pressing her face to his broad shoulder as tears began to well from her eyes.

  “What is this? What has she done? What poison did she use?” Ren was suddenly there beside her, looking anxiously at Bram, whose eyes were red as blood.

  “Don’t touch him, my love.” Jenla was at his side, urging him to step back. “The red-eyed plague spreads like wildfire between males who touch. You must be careful”

  “She’s…right,” Bram rasped, holding up a hand to tell his friend to keep his distance. “Can’t…risk contaminating the crew. Stay…back.”

  “The hell I will.” Ren sounded angry. Lifting his voice, he stared shouting orders. “Trek, bring me a hazmat suit in the captain’s size—I know we have at least one in the shuttles. And you two…” He pointed at two large Kindred guards. “Hold that female’s arms and take away her cape and headdress.”

  “No! No!” Thiera struggled against the strong hands that restrained her.

  “Careful,” Ren directed. “Don’t let her scratch you with the feathers—they’re poisoned.”

  At that moment the first Kindred called Trek came back, carrying a bulky white bundle.

  “Princess,” Ren said, taking it from his hands and turning to Alanah. “Do you think you can help Bram put this on? It will keep the infection—the poison—contained so that it cannot infect anyone else.”

  “I…I think so. But what can you do for him?” Alanah asked anxiously. “Can…can you cure him?”

  “I’m going to try my damndest—with the help of those.” He pointed to the feathered headdress and cape which one of the Kindred guards was holding at an arms length, as though it was a poison snake which might strike at any moment. He nodded at the angry Thiera, still hissing and spitting like a scalded catkin in the guards’ grip. “If she won’t tell us wh
at the poison is, I’ll analyze it myself and concoct an antidote.”

  Alanah felt a surge of hope. “Oh, do you really think you can?” she whispered.

  Ren looked at her seriously.

  “Princess, I swear to you now I will heal him. Bram is my dearest friend—I will not let him die.”

  “Thank you,” Alanah whispered but inside she still felt a cold finger of dread. No male who had contracted the red-eyed death had ever lived. Could her new love really survive this? And what would she do if he didn’t?

  Can’t think about that now, she told herself as she and Jenla helped Bram put on the strange white suit. Now I have to concentrate on getting him safely back up to the ship.

  But she knew such thoughts couldn’t be kept at bay forever, The loss of her father and all the other men of their little kingdom hovered at the back of her mind like a black cloud, threatening to obscure her vision with grief and fear at any moment.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thiera would not come aboard one of the Kindred shuttles—she absolutely refused to go to the Mothership. Considering the way most of the women were eyeing her and muttering about stoning and hanging, Alanah considered that it was probably for the best that the Elder Witch was left behind.

  She could have happily killed Thiera herself, except she was much too preoccupied with Bram. Her giant was laboring to breath inside the strange white suit they had given him to wear which covered everything—even his head—with only a thin, see-through panel over his eyes which were as red as blood.

  As red as Papa’s were, Alanah thought and then wished she hadn’t. But it was impossible not to think of her beloved father and the way he had died now that the man she loved had also been infected with the plague.

  All the way up to the ship, Jenla sat beside her and held her hand, trying to ease some of Alanah’s suffering.

  “He’ll be all right,” she whispered, squeezing Alanah’s fingers tightly. “You heard Ren—he says he can cure him.”

  But Alanah didn’t feel comforted. They had tried everything to cure the plague—every antidote and ritual and potion and pill and formula—nothing had worked. Could even the Kindred, with their advanced technology, fight against such a foe?

  Alanah just didn’t know…

  “He’s resting now, in the quarantine room.” Ren crossed his arms over his broad chest, frowning through the clear glass window which showed Bram lying propped up on a broad bed, his eyes closed. At least he was no longer wearing the frightening white “hazmat suit” she’d had to help put on him, Alanah thought. He was bare under the white sheet that covered his bottom half—the better to keep his fever down, Ren had explained.

  “Will he be all right now?” Alanah asked anxiously. “Did the medicine you gave him help?”

  Ren sighed wearily and ran a hand over his rather messy braids. “I don’t honestly know, Alanah. The poison in those feathers was…well, let’s just say it was unique. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m afraid Bram may have a difficult time ahead of him.”

  “A difficult time—what does that mean?” Alanah pleaded. “You promised you wouldn’t let him die, Ren. You promised!”

  “And it’s a promise I intend to keep.” His voice grew stronger, as though he was pushing away his weariness by sheer force of will. “I’m not done searching for answers yet, Princess—I’ve still got some avenues to explore.”

  “But what can I do?” Alanah pleaded, shifting from foot to foot. “Can…can I go in to him? He’s breathing easier now.”

  “It’s probably safe for you, since the virus appears to only target victims with a Y chromosome,” Ren said. “But I’d prefer if you didn’t just yet. Give him a little chance to rest and be still. Let his system use the antibodies I injected him with to fight this thing.”

  Alanah hadn’t understood one word in ten but she did get the idea that Ren didn’t want her bothering Bram at the moment.

  “I guess…guess I’ll go back to our suite then,” she said hopelessly. “If there’s nothing I can do here.”

  “Nothing but pray,” Ren said grimly.

  “Pray?” Sudden understanding broke over Alanah. “That’s it—I’ll go pray to the Kindred Goddess! Surely she will want to save her servant, Bram!” She looked at Ren. “Isn’t there someplace sacred to the Goddess here aboard the Mothership. It was where Bram and I were…were going to have our wedding.” Her voice choked on the last words and she had to put a hand over her mouth to hold back sobs.

  “Hey, now…” Ren put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Don’t cry, Alanah—you’ll still have your joining day—your wedding, I mean.” He squeezed her shoulder and then let go. “In the meantime, I think the idea of going to the Sacred Grove and praying to the Goddess is an excellent idea. I can point you in the right direction if you want.”

  “Yes…” Alanah sniffed, trying to get hold of herself. “Yes, please Ren. Show me where it is.”

  She intended to pray to the Goddess all night if necessary, to spare the life of her beloved. She didn’t know much about this new deity but she hoped and prayed with all her heart that the Mother of All Life, as the Kindred called her, would be merciful.

  The trip to the Sacred Grove was uneventful…except for one thing—there was something strange happening to Alanah’s body.

  She first noticed it when she stepped off the transport—a strange contraption which ran on its own without any animals to pull it—and onto the broad, green expanse of grass at the center of the Kindred ship.

  There was a green sun blazing overhead, making it as warm and pleasant as a spring day and all around the edges of the vast expanse of parkland were shops and restaurants. Yet, Alanah barely noticed any of this because of the tingling which had begun between her legs.

  What’s wrong with me? she asked herself as she made her way toward the grove of purple and green trees in the center of the park. Why am I feeling like this?

  She tried to ignore it, but the feeling grew and grew, changing from a tingling to a heat that seemed to start at her core and spread to her entire body, filling her with need and longing. Her newly ripened nipples ached to be sucked and her freshly bloomed pussy felt so empty…so needy. Her clit throbbed, as though begging to be stroked and tasted and she kept having thoughts of Bram’s long, thick shaft filling her to the hilt…

  It made Alanah feel horrible and wrong.

  What’s going on with me? How can I be feeling like this right now, with everything that’s happening to Bram?

  As she neared the Sacred Grove, her steps began dragging. How could she go and pray to the Goddess now, with these strange emotions churning inside her? It would be blasphemous to set her feet on the holy ground of the Sacred Grove when she was in such a state!

  But just as she was about to turn back, the green and purple leaves rustled and an ancient female face, seamed with so many wrinkles it looked almost like a dried fruit, peered out at her.

  “Oh!” Alanah gasped and gave a little jump back, putting her hand to her beating heart. “Oh my—ex-excuse me,” she stammered. “I…I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “You are not intruding girl-child,” the old woman answered. She came out from the shadow of the trees and though she was clearly ancient, she was also the tallest woman Alanah had ever seen.

  She must be seven feet tall if she’s an inch! she thought distractedly. Yet, the bent old woman would seem tiny and frail in comparison with any of the male Jor’gen Kindred. She had long, gray hair with greenish streaks in it and her wide old eyes were also green-within-green—that is, both the whites and the irises were green, though of different shades.

  “Who…who are you?” Alanah breathed, taking another step back.

  “Why I am Yolla, the last living priestess—and the last living female—of the Jor’gen Kindred,” the old woman said. “And who might you be, girl-child?”

  “I…I am Alanah Kingsdaughter. I am new to your ship, Pries
tess.” Alanah bowed her head respectfully. “I came to pray for my man to recover from an evil plague which was given to him. But now…” She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Now I think I ought to go.”

  “Ate some bonding fruit, did you?”

  “I…how did you know that?” Alanah exclaimed. She hadn’t even thought of the small piece of ripe fruit she’d eaten back on her home world in order to convince her people it wasn’t poison. But now she wondered, could it have something to do with the strange feelings she was having?

  “Flushed cheeks…shifting hips as though you’ve got a prickle from a thorn-berry stuck in your bottom…plus you’re breathing as though you ran here instead of walked. You have all the signs. Besides, a priestess knows,” Yolla said wisely.

  “Oh…I…” Alanah was abashed all over again. Was the unwanted, illicit desire which had crept over her so suddenly really that apparent?

  “And so you’re wishing for your male?” the priestess asked matter-of-factly.

  “Well…yes. But as I said, he’s gravely ill right now.” Hot tears pricked at Alanah’s eyes. “And I’m so afraid…afraid he’ll die. I wanted to pray to the Kindred Goddess—to ask her to save him.”

  “He’ll not die,” Yolla said firmly. “Not as long as you tie him to you and to this life. You must give him a reason to live, girl-child.”

  “I…I must? But how?” Alanah shook her head. “Please tell me, I don’t understand.”

  “Simply go to him and follow your instincts,” Yolla said mysteriously. “Listen to your desires and you will know.”

  “But…but I…” Alanah began but the elderly priestess was already disappearing back into the green and purple leaves.

  “Go to him, girl-child!” she called, her ancient, cracked voice floating faintly through the trees. “Go to him without delay. Take what you need…and give your male what he needs as well. Farewell—the Goddess is watching over you both.”

  Alanah didn’t really understand what had just happened but one thing was certain—she had been dismissed.