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Authors: Bruce R. Cordell

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BOOK: Lady of Poison
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“I would welcome your company and sword arm,” responded Marrec.

“The Mucklestones are my specialty,” interrupted Ususi. “I will come, too. I must learn why the portal stones are blocked.”

“It won’t be safe,” said Marrec. Despite her exotic beauty, Marrec was unsure if adding this acerbic woman to their group was a good choice.

“I possess a power of my own, which Gameliel may learn, to his misfortune.”

Marrec nodded his acquiescence, sighing. He couldn’t say no to the potential aid of a wizard. He wondered if perhaps her presence was actually fortuitous, something Lurue had foreseen? Perhaps he would find his answer in the Forest of Lethyr.

Day kindled, and the travelers were already up and out of Two Stars, eager for an early start. Morning peeked over the shoulders of the darkened countryside. Before them, the land was quiet and in the pre-dawn light formless and gray, but even as they watched, night’s fingers pulled back and colors began to bleed back into the world: the lighter greens of the fields, the darker-hued forests far off, the blue gradations of the sky with a fleecing of white clouds, and the coffee-brown of the road that stretched ahead.

“We can follow the Cold Road for a few miles,” said Elowen. “After that, I know of a trail we can take that’ll shave days off our trip. Eventually, we’ll intersect the northeastern end of the Lethyr Forest. I expect six or seven days to travel so many miles, even with the mounts.”

She looked back, seeing Marrec and Ususi

each astride a horse and Ash on her pony, Henri. Gunggari brought up the rear. Like her, the Oslander preferred traveling on his own two feet. Despite that preference, she knew Marrec was right in procuring mounts for everyone. Horseback was the only way to travel the distance in any reasonable amount of time, especially with Ususi along. While Ususi controlled potent magic, she apparently didn’t like to squander them on anything as mundane as transportation. The wizard seemed a bit put out because her magical portal to the Mucklestones was blocked. Likely Ususi had been considering a trip to investigate even before Marrec made an appearance with Ash, Gunggari, and herself in tow. For Ususi, Marrec’s appearance must seem a happy coincidence.

The Cold Road was in good repair, at least so close to Two Stars. The road ran straight and wide through low grasslands, but further on she could see the road passed through deep groves of conifer. Farms and small communities were visible in the distance, as the sun continued to ascend along its daily track. Elowen had not taken the trail she intended for their group in thirteen years, but her memory was certain. Past the next long rise, she would break left off the road.

Behind her, she could hear Marrec quizzing Ususi. She smiled. Ususi wasn’t particularly forthcoming about her origins. Elowen had known the woman for several years, and only in the last few had she discovered the secret Ususi wanted kept quiet. After all, most surface dwellers reacted poorly when they learned that they were in the presence of someone hailing from the Underdark.

Obviously Ususi wasn’t drow or some even worse abomination birthed in the world below the sun. In fact, she presumed Ususi was more closely related to Marrec than herself, with her elven blood. Ususi claimed to be a member of a human sub-race thought extinct on the surface, but who instead had sealed themselves into an hidden enclave in the deepest portion of the Underdark

that they could penetrate. Apparently a race of wizards, the refugees had sealed all knowledge of their presence behind impenetrable walls of force and illusion. Only recently, after thousands of years, Ususi claimed, had those walls begun to fail. Ususi was one of the first of her race in generations to leave the enclave. Ususi claimed to be a descendent of the Imaskar empire.

The name meant nothing to Elowen.

Elowen was merely glad Ususi had finally developed enough trust in their friendship to reveal so much about her past. The Imaskari still feared whatever drove her ancestors into hiding, but Elowen doubted that the threat still existed, whatever it was; Ususi would not name it.

Marrec had a long road to travel if he thought he was going to get any information out of the wizard on such short notice, mused Elowen. He’d have to put in his time, as Elowen had. Soon enough, the man realized the same thing and allowed Ususi to move ahead of his own mount. Marrec’s eyes began to focus on places other than the road ahead. Worrying about his goddess Lurue, she guessed.

<&Ś•ŠŚ

When young Marrec fled his adoptive village into the wild, he had no clear destination. At first, getting away was his only concern. He reviled himself, still hurting from the insults and jeers heaped on him as he fled. Fear drove the villagers to act out. Confused and uncomprehending of what his mere gaze had accomplished, Marrec believed those taunts.

Though he sought solace in the wilderness, he fled without preparation. He brought only a spear, clutched to him with determination, and with some thought of using it hunt. That first night, rain poured from a dank sky. Cold to the bone and wet, the best shelter Marrec could find was beneath a stout tree branch.

Things might have gone the worse for him then, but as

fate or chance had it, Thanial Selwander found him.

Thanial was known to Marrec and others of his village as the secretive “Man in the Wood.” He appeared in town once every few years, and Marrec had only seen the man a few times and at a distance. His brother Emmon had many stories to tell of the Man in the Wood, usually involving Thanial hunting and slaying some strange new forest beast.

Surprisingly, Thanial seemed to recognize him, saying, “Marrec. So you’ve decided to leave the village, eh? Things out here can be a little difficult for a novice woodsman. Why don’t you stick with me, and I’ll show what you need to know.”

Marrec was astounded at Thanial’s casual greeting, but he was happy to accept aid. His hunger was nearly as great as the chill in his extremities, and moreover, kindness seemed an unlooked for gift. He decided to put off telling Thanial about his devil-born ability for a while.

Thanial bade Marrec to live with him in his home in a wooded and sheltered valley between two sharp peaks. The woodman’s home was a well-constructed log house, filled with rough amenities, including a great stone fireplace and a dry, flagged floor. A stream flowed down from one peak and on through the valley, its path not more than a few feet from the house. It offered clear water for drinking, cooking, and baking, and fish could be caught from it, great mountain trout usually, but sometimes salmon if the season was right.

The first night, Marrec slept on the flagged stones on a mattress of furs, staring into the warming fire. Thanial had a great black wolf called Shira who seemed a companion than pet. Shira lay near Marrec that night, her great muzzle protruding out like a ship’s prow, sniffing Marrec suspiciously. Thanial stepped into the next room to prepare a meal, but Marrec fell fast asleep, and woke with the sun and birdsong the next day.

Thanial walked in with the sun and said, “Awake at

last, eh? Good. It’s time I gave you some real training, something to go on if you ever find yourself lost in the woods again. You may be good with that spear, but it won’t help your hunger if you can’t track a deer or bring down a bird.”

So Marrec stayed with Thanial. Somehow, Thanial seemed to know him and know things about him. That mystified Marrec, but since Thanial continued on in that manner, Marrec accepted it.

Six months passed. Every day, Thanial roused him from sleep just as morning’s pink light stole into the forest. There was too much to do to sleep any later. Thanial shared with Marrec a world of wonder, opportunity, and knowledge. He trained Marrec to see the web of connections that comprised nature. From the dew to the spider webs it collected upon, to the birds that preyed on the spiders, to the quickest cougars that brought down those birds, and finally to life’s end, which claimed all creatures weak and strong, Marrec began to develop a deep understanding of the links between all living things.

Thanial was a self-proclaimed wild ranger but also a devout adherent of she who Thanial called the Queen of the Forest. So Thanial was schooled in forest craft and also in the mysteries of Thanial’s Queen, called Lurue. According to Thanial, knowledge of the first was also knowledge of the second.

Marrec proved an apt pupil. The more he learned, the more he realized that the spirit of Lurue was something he could love and cherish. Not only was she the goddess of the animals but also a free spirit of adventure and happiness. She was a guide for those who wished for no home but the wild. At that time, he decided that he would devote himself to the goddess, and serve her needs in the world.

One morning Thanial woke him with a strangely serious air.

“What is it?” Marrec asked.

“It’s time I showed you something. I wasn’t going to, but I’ve changed my mind. I think you’re old enough.” Thanial had a leather satchel in his hands, worn and obviously very old.

It wouldn’t be out of character for Thanial to lure Marrec into a false sense of alarm, only to laugh uproariously when the true situation, usually somehow comedic, became apparent. Marrec ruefully shook his head and smiled. “All right, lay it on me Thanial.”

Thanial laid the satchel down across the great table he and Marrec had built from lengths of pine. As serious as a stone, he undid the old leather ties then carefully removed from it an object: A glazed stone bulb the size of a fist from which a short stone handle stretched. Tassels with small charms and beads were tied to the handle. As Thanial removed from the object from the satchel, it rattled. It was a child’s rattle.

Marrec’s face flushed, and his eyes grew wide. He knew that rattle. It was his, from his earliest childhood.

“Where…?”

“You had it clutched in your hand when I found you,” explained Thanial gently. “It was I who found you, a child in the forest, sixteen years ago almost. It was I who asked the cobbler to take you in to make a home for the orphan I found lying all alone in the woods.”

“You found me?” Marrec didn’t know where to start. “But where? Why? I don’t understand.”

“Your adoptive father thought it best to indicate that it had been he who found you, not I. That’s all.”

Marrec swallowed, but he could see that Thanial had more to say. “What else?”

“When I found you… you were not exactly as you appear now. Oh, from a distance you seemed a human child of nearly two years, crying, red faced, clutching your rattle, but when I bent to retrieve you from the forest floor, I saw something I didn’t want to believe. I thought at first it was a parasite, but I was wrong. Curling up

through your black hair were tiny… serpents. They were rooted, as if hair, in your head.”

Marrec heard a rushing noise in his ears. He stared at Thanial, uncomprehending.

Thanial continued, “I took my blade and severed them. I didn’t think twice. I cut them out by their roots. They didn’t grow back. You didn’t seem to miss them. In fact, you acted like any toddler would act, though at first I feared otherwise; I feared some monstrous influence. But no, at least one of your parents was obviously human. You were perfectly harmless. I kept you for a time, but I knew I couldn’t raise you right. I gave you up to the village. I gave you up so you could have a real family.”

Still Marrec couldn’t utter a word. As he did unconsciously every day of his life, he raised a hand to his brow and with his fingers probed above his hairline for the hidden scars.

The edge of the main forest was dark and close. Clouds tumbled across the sky, gray and vast, and from their bellies they unleashed yet another downpour.

Forest leaves caught the falling rain, deflecting it from its original goal of the moist earth, but only temporarily. Tiny trickles of water collected and ran down the columns of conifer, pine, and the occasional grove of silver aspen, green with spring growth. The Forest of Lethyr sheltered trees of many sorts within its confines, but all were glad, in their own way, to feel the rain on their boughs.

Five riders, one no more than a child, entered the eaves of the forest, eager to gain some protection from the sudden spring rain. The group hailed from Two Stars, having crossed the intervening distance in just a little more than a tenday.

The elven woman in the lead raised a hand and called for a pause. She said, “We’ve entered Lethyr.” She slipped easily from her saddle to stand on the rain-soaked ground.

“Elowen, how far now to the Mucklestones?” asked the dark haired woman in wizardly attire. “Though I’ve journeyed there several times, this will be the first time I’ve done so by taking every jarring step in between.” The dark haired woman sighed, rubbing the small of her back.

Marrec swung down from his horse. He studied the forest floor. He was acquainted with many forests in the west, but he was unfamiliar with that one.

He asked Elowen, “Anything we should watch out for, aside from rotting volodnis?”

Elowen said, “Certainly. This is a wild forest, and dangerous creatures roam below its dark canopy. Of course, most are goodly creatures that bear us no ill will. If we’re lucky, we might meet a treant. I know a few in this part of Lethyr.”

“Treants?” asked Gunggari. Gunggari was clothed more in tattoos than cloth, and the chill rain threatened to raise goosebumps on his skin. He took advantage of the pause to dismount.

“Great stewards of the forest. Nentyar hunters like myself sometimes work hand in hand with these great treeish creatures to protect the woods from threat.”

“I hope their ‘treeishness’ doesn’t make them susceptible to the same sort of controlling rot as the volodnis we’ve faced,” commented Marrec.

He walked over to Ash on her pony, checking her saddle. The horse and child had weathered the trip amazingly well, without soreness, hurt, or abraded skin. He suspected the girl’s healing ability had been at work. Reminded of that, he mentally sought out his own remaining powers as a tongue seeks the space formerly occupied by a recently pulled tooth. His powers had diminished, and without

contact with Lurue, he couldn’t replace the powers he used up. During their trip across the plain, his feeling of connection with Lurue had grown more tenuous than ever. He prayed for the thousandth time that he was on the right path, and that the girlr held the answer to Lurue’s silence.

BOOK: Lady of Poison
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