B. Alexander Howerton

  The Wyrding Stone

  By B. Alexander Howerton

  Text Copyright © 2012 B. Alexander Howerton

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Illustration by Claire Payne

  For Maya

  May you find your Belonging Place

  1. 34,178 B.C.E. — The Primeval Forests of the Caucasus

  The fierce cacophony of battle raged through the dense forest. Ull found himself on the defensive, all of a sudden. He swiftly raised his thickly-muscled arm, densely covered with rust-colored hair, in order to get his club between his skull and the stout club of his assailant, which was descending rapidly. A sharp crack reverberated through the trees as the two weapons violently met. Ull could feel hot breath on his neck as he stared up at the wide savage eyes of his opponent.

  Without a break in his motion, Ull deftly swung his club arm in a downward pivot, so that the back of his club handle rammed into the attacker’s sternum. His foe’s visage of terrible rage transformed into surprise as his breath involuntarily left him. Ull swung his arm back up, bringing the club heavily down on the other’s head. His dark-haired foe staggered, setting his legs wide to prevent toppling. That was all the opportunity Ull required. He grasped his club with both hands, heaved it high over his head, and brought it down with all his might on his opponent’s skull. The dark-maned head split, spurting blood and brains in every direction, splattering Ull as well. The body thudded to the forest floor.

  Not wasting a second, Ull glanced around. His fellow tribesmen were engaged in similar encounters all about him. It was easy to distinguish ally from foe. The dark-skinned, raven-haired, slender, naked assailants stood out in sharp contrast to Ull’s stocky, ruddy, red-haired brethren, who were also not wearing any animal skins, which would only hamper one’s fighting ability. Ull waded into the fray, smashing heads and breaking limbs as frequently and as violently as possible. All the combatants were bellowing or shrieking fiercely, attempting to strike fear into their foes.

  As with all such battles, the fighting was intense but brief. It was over in a few minutes, although Ull had absolutely no conception of such time intervals. To Ull and his primitive companions, the heat of strife was when they felt most alive, most in the present, and their perception of its duration expanded so that it seemed to dominate their whole existence. There would be many tales of valor and courage around the campfire this evening, although the vocabulary of the retelling would be rather limited, and would be communicated more with gestures than with words.

  Ull wiped the back of his hairy hand across his low, sloping brow, to remove as much of the blood and body parts as possible that had stuck there. He looked around, surveying the carnage he and his companions had wrought. There were about ten of them left standing, of the original fifteen or so which had begun the fray. Of the bodies lying in various states of destruction around them, the dark skins outnumbered Ull’s ruddy relatives by more than four to one. Ull’s companions were whacking away at the heads of the severely wounded but still living survivors on the ground, both enemy and friend. They instinctively knew that a wounded comrade was too difficult to care for, and the smell of his blood would only draw the tigers and wolves. They all knew and expected that if they had been injured, the same fate would befall them. It was the way of things, and was as natural as the sun rising in the morning. A wild goat would be sacrificed and offered to the Fire-god that evening, so that He would conduct the souls of the fallen brothers-in-arms to the netherworld, there to await rebirth as new, strong warriors.

  The stabbing pain from his thigh finally broke through Ull’s consciousness, causing him to glance down to see a long-but-not-deep gash along his leg, slowly leaking blood. He grunted to his nearest comrade and pointed toward the freshwater pond, out of sight beyond a blanket of trees, the control of which had been the object of the skirmish. He stumbled in that direction, beating his way through the brush and branches. Now that the fighting was over and his adrenaline was subsiding, a great fatigue began to overtake Ull, and he tripped more and more frequently as he stumbled on. He finally broke through the last of the foliage and fell headfirst at the bank of the pond, thrusting his sweat-caked head deep into the cool water, while his torso and legs sprawled on the shore.

  He lay still for a minute, letting his body relax, and allowing the tension of battle to flow from his nerves into the water. He then yanked his head out of the pond and shook it vigorously, sending droplets flying in a cloud about him. He flipped over, spun around, and sat up, letting his legs dangle in the cool, refreshing pond. He began splashing water onto his wound, washing the blood and grime away. The pain shooting through his leg and up his spine was tremendous, but Ull was familiar with pain, his old friend. This was merely a confirmation to him that he was still alive. Ull smiled. Life was good. He had survived the battle, he and his kinfolk had defeated their enemies, and this small, clear pond was their reward. Their tribe would thrive by the shores of this pond, with plenty of fresh water and small game on which to endure the coming cold season.

  He looked up with pride to survey his conquest, glancing around the perimeter of the small lake. He froze with a start as his eyes reached a point almost exactly across from him. There, crouching in the weeds, was a young woman, staring back at him. Her cupped hands were raised halfway to her mouth, and her eyes were wide with fright. She had apparently been drinking from the pond, but froze in terror when Ull had crashed through the brush. Instantly Ull realized why she would be struck with fear. She shared the dark complexion and raven hair of Ull’s vanquished foes, back in the woods.

  They stared across the water at each other for uncounted moments that seemed to stretch on to an eternity. The range of emotions that raced through Ull’s mind were more than his primitive consciousness could handle, thus temporarily robbing him of his ability to act. The first thing he felt was an overwhelming bloodrage at the sight of an enemy, immediately followed by the recognition of the femininity of his adversary, thus representing to him that she was no real threat. That same recognition of femininity aroused certain reactions that were normally deeply buried in his psyche, especially during battle. But now, with the battle concluded but his senses still heightened, Ull felt stirrings, both mentally and physically. The female was attractive. Her conquest would be a fitting cap to the day’s activities. Ull’s primitive emotions were never far from the surface, so his thoughts soon slowly twisted his face into a grin which could have only one interpretation.

  The young woman with the expression of a scared deer must have correctly interpreted Ull’s stare, for she suddenly bolted away into the bush. Ull was startled only momentarily before his hunter’s instinct gripped him. He jumped up, leapt out of the pond onto the bank, and beat his way swiftly but laboriously through the growth. In a flash he had reached the spot on the other side of the pond that was recently occupied by his quarry. Years of experience enabled him to quickly assess the pattern of broken and bent branches and trampled plants, and he immediately set off in pursuit of the young girl. He propelled himself forward for many minutes, expertly following the girl’s trail, but never catching sight of her. He finally heard the clatter of someone racing through the thick growth ahead. He increased his pace, and in less than a minute spied his prey.

  He leapt forward, reached out, and seized a handful of long, dark hair. He jerked her head violently back to stop her, and she cried out, more from fright than pain. No longer able to run forward, but still possessing a great momentum, her legs shot forward, out from under her, and Ull slammed her down to the forest floor on her back. He jumped forward, pivoting in mid-air, and landed with his feet planted close to each side of her waist. His chest heaved, his face exhibited the crazed glow of t
he hunter. The girl recoiled in fear. Ull dropped to his knees, pinning the girl down, and began pawing roughly at her naked, lithe body. The girl struggled fiercely, striking and kicking Ull as best she could. One of her blows landed on the wound on his leg, and he howled in pain. He instinctively back-handed her across the cheek. Her head snapped violently to one side, and her struggles immediately ceased. She lay there, immobile, awaiting her fate.

  Ull sat up with satisfaction. His conquest was complete, his prey was subdued. He stood up, bent down, grabbed the girl’s hair, and jerked her to her feet. She complied meekly, offering no resistance. Ull picked the girl up, threw her over one shoulder, and strode off through the brush. The girl hung limply, like a dead animal.

  Ull made for a spot he knew of, a small clearing next to a low cliff by a nearby river. It was not quite a cave, but it was surrounded by rocky walls on three sides, and would offer adequate privacy for his purpose. He reached the spot and threw the girl unceremoniously on the ground. She instantly jumped up and tried to bolt away, but Ull was standing between her and the opening to freedom, and he moved to block her. She dodged, and tried to run around in another direction, but Ull was too quick for her, and blocked her again. She gave up, and retreated to the back wall of the clearing, hunching down fearfully on the ground.

  Ull approached slowly, ready to block any further attempts at escape. A malevolent grin spread across his face, in anticipation of the pleasure he expected soon to be experiencing. His penis protruded, fully engorged, from the red bristly hairs of his groin. It was as if it had possessed Ull’s consciousness, and was now leading his body, which was only its vehicle of transportation. Suddenly Ull grunted in pain and looked down. He had kicked a stone hard and cut his foot. He was hurt only enough to be momentarily distracted, but the offending stone held his fascination for a moment. It was smooth and clear, yet strangely reflected a myriad of colors. Intrigued, he bent and picked it up. He turned it over several times, looking at it from every angle. Each turn shot off new rays of reflected light. It was oblong, about half the size of a human head. Enamored of the pretty stone, Ull almost forgot about his prey, until he chanced to spy her beyond the rock as he held it up to catch a ray of sun. Suddenly, his initial purpose returned to him with the force of a thunderclap. He pitched the stone over his shoulder, already forgetting it, and continued advancing upon the girl.

  He seized the girl once again by the hair, and threw her sideways such that she landed face down, her arms shooting out to brace her against the fall. He quickly reached out, grabbed her hips, and jerked her body up, so that her rear end presented his goal to him, unobstructed. Without warning or hesitation he plunged deeply into the girl, driving a grunt of discomfort out of her. He pounded away violently, heedless of the girl or anything else around him. Every thrust drove her harshly into the ground. She lay still, expressionless, merely receiving with no reaction the jolts of Ull’s body, pressing her roughly from behind. Occasionally an involuntary grunt was forced out of her throat.

  Ull threw his head back and closed his eyes. His wide nostrils flared, his thick lips curled back in a grin that was more of a snarl, and he increased the tempo of his thrusts. In less than two minutes from his initial penetration, he suddenly stopped his motions, holding his pelvis forward and his penis buried deep within the girl. He let out a long, low, satisfied moan as he released into her. He immediately pulled out and flopped over on his side.

  Perceiving that Ull no longer posed an immediate danger to her, the girl curled up next to him, hugging her knees tightly and burrowing her back up against his side to acquire some of his warmth. Ull was already snoring, his chest, covered in thick red hair, heaving and sinking with every deep breath. The girl merely stared into the dense forest, and lay very still.

  They remained that way for several hours. The sun continued on its path across the sky, creating an ever-changing panoply of light and color through the dense leaves of the surrounding forest. Occasionally a shaft of sunlight would strike Ull’s discarded stone, shooting a bolt of rainbow color along the cliff wall. The girl lay very still, watching the play of light and listening to the wind gently rustling through the leaves.

  Suddenly, Ull awoke with a snort. He looked around, bewildered, until the reality of his waking life reasserted its grip upon his consciousness. He perceived the warmth of the girl by his side, and looked down at her. The girl, sensing his movement, turned over and returned his gaze. Her face was expressionless.

  Although the events of the morning were still fresh in his mind, Ull was completely relaxed and at peace, having exerted himself in battle and in sexual intercourse, then having slept soundly. He no longer harbored any ill will or lustful desires toward this female avatar of his enemy. His eyes landed on her cheek, where he had back-handed her earlier. It was red and swollen, developing the first blue tinges of a bruise. Gazing upon the wound he had inflicted, a new sensation overcame Ull, something he had never encountered before. He felt a strange urge to reach over and gently stroke the girl’s cheek, where he had hurt her. She instinctively responded, pushing her face into the cup of his hand so he was better able to caress her.

  Odd sensations were welling up inside Ull, inklings of emotions he did not fully comprehend. He was confused, not knowing what to do. He was beginning to experience tender and protective feelings toward this small, defenseless, dark-haired female, whom he had wantonly assaulted and violated just a few hours earlier. He peered into her eyes, and she returned his gaze. They beheld each other’s faces for long, uncountable moments, both seeing and feeling indescribable new stirrings in their souls.

  Ull was just about to reach out and caress the girl again, when a sharp, high, piercing cry broke the stillness above them. Without warning, a large rock thudded into the girl’s right shin, shattering the bone. The girl cried out in surprise and agony. Ull quickly looked up to find the source of the projectile, and espied several of his red-haired companions on the cliffs over their heads, jumping and shouting in rage. Some were heaving rocks down at them, while others were stooping to pick up more.

  Ull instantly perceived what was happening. His brethren must have been searching for him, and knew he enjoyed coming to this spot. When they found him, they saw a dark-skinned enemy with him. Consumed by blood-rage, and not seeing him at all anymore, their only instinct was to kill the enemy.

  Ull bellowed and leapt to his feet. The girl writhed in pain on the ground, clutching at her broken shin, which leaked blood. Other smaller rocks pelted her, when the red-hairs’ aims were accurate enough. A few even struck Ull, increasing his anger. In a blinding rage, He ran to one of the cliff walls and began to scramble up it, with the intention of stopping the rain of stones. The cliff walls were rough, with many protruding rocks and stunted, gnarled trees growing out at obtuse angles. Despite these advantages, Ull, in his frantic haste, slipped several times and made slow progress to the top of the cliff, which was about five times his height. During Ull’s climb, his companions did not cease casting their rain of stones upon the girl.

  Ull finally pulled himself onto the summit of the cliff, and immediately ran over to block one tribemate, who had lifted an exceptionally large boulder over his head with both arms, preparing to heave it onto his victim below. Ull leaped up and shoved the rock with all his might, forcing his companion to drop it behind him and stumble backward. Ull landed and deftly spun around, frantically searching for the next best prospect to be thwarted. He noticed that his cohorts were calming down, peering over the cliff’s edge with an air of satisfaction. He followed their gaze to the girl below. She was a bloody pulp, with rocks strewn in profusion about her. One large stone lay where her head should have been, and the splatter of blood radiating from it testified to the force of its impact.

  Ull stood still, staring down, feeling numb from having exerted great energy, the goal of which had been suddenly stripped away. His companions, with satisfied grunts, were already turning and making off in the direction of their en
campment. After a long, silent pause, in which the stillness of the forest once again descended around him, Ull turned away and followed his brethren. The strange rush of new emotions was already receding. He was already beginning to forget the girl.

  2. Today — Julia

  “I can’t believe he slapped me. What did I do?” Julia asked, wiping her eyes with a tissue and pulling her long, straight brunette hair away from her face, where various strands had stuck. “I don’t understand him.”

  Julia’s friend Carol reached an arm around her and gave her a reassuring hug. “Guys like Carl only want one thing. It’s a shame it took so long for you to find out he was one of those types.”

  Julia looked up at her through tear-laden eyes. “But I loved him. At least I thought I did.” She buried her face in a hand, still holding a tissue, and sobbed.

  Carol squeezed her shoulder. “You seem like you could use a glass of wine.” She got up from her couch, picked up the two empty bowls from the coffee table, which had remnants of chocolate ice cream in the bottom, and took them to the kitchen. An early October rain beat against the windows of Carol’s apartment in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and some of the first leaves that were beginning to fall stuck briefly to the glass, before resuming their journey to the earth. A cozy fire crackled in the fireplace. Julia gazed into the fire with a faraway look as she absentmindedly petted Carol’s white longhair cat, who had parked herself for a tonguebath against the cushions of the couch.

  Carol returned with two long-stemmed glasses of blush wine, and handed one to Julia. “Thanks,” she said, taking it. She took a sip, then crossed her arms over her already crossed legs as she leaned forward and gazed into the fire. She sniffled a couple of times, then said, “You know, I really thought he was the one. I mean, he used to be so kind and gentle, especially when we first met.” A wistful smile of memory passed over her face. “He always brought me flowers, or we would go out to dinner a lot. I really miss those times.”