Within the shade of the first few trees, Marrec smiled. He found what he’d hoped—a tiny cairn of hastily assembled pebbles. Gunggari had left the marker indicating the direction he’d taken in tracking the blighted volodnis. That was a technique they’d used before. Marrec couldn’t go nearly as quietly as the Oslander, but following markers, he could bring up the rear quickly enough.
Marrec strode confidently into the trees on the trail of Gunggari, fleeing volodnis, and he hoped, the Child of Light. How odd that she should be a foundling, just as Marrec had been.
Tired and alone, the child waved his arms ineffectually and tried to crawl into the center of the empty road. He didn’t know why he had been abandoned; he was too young to remember much. He ceased crying hours earlier. He was too tired and too hungry to cry. All that was left was dreary persistence.
When Harmon the cobbler found the infant, the child was nearly dead of exposure. Staring up at the newcomer who had intruded on his field of view, the child made a small sound, trying to give voice to his day of loneliness and cold. Only a whimper escaped the infant’s lips.
Harmon was a good man and did the right thing. The cobbler brought the baby boy back into town. Harmon and his wife Celia nursed the young boy back to health and began to ask around as to the child’s identity, but it was soon clear that no one would claim the lost boy. Apparently, he was an orphan.
Harmon named the boy Marrec and brought the foundling into his family. Already the father of six other children, the cobbler and his wife didn’t make the decision lightly. Marrec was another mouth to feed and another responsibility for Harmon and Celia, but soon enough Marrec came to regard the kind man and his smiling wife as his real parents. Being only a year and a half old, unable to recall his past, where he had come from, or even how he had been abandoned in the wilderness, Marrec made that internal transition automatically.
Marrec grew into a healthy, inquisitive boy. Though raised as a brother, his older siblings always treated him a little differently, keeping him at something of a distance. That was fine with Marrec. He delighted mostly in the arts of sword, spear, and bow, though he also found solace in the wild. Marrec was particularly fond of the deer, the coyotes, and other animals of hill and glen. He kept many pets of that sort as he grew older, though his parents frowned on anything more dangerous than a hare. His adopted brothers and sisters cared more for the arts of commerce, specifically cobbling, except for his step-brother Emmon. Emmon shared Marrec’s passion for the wild, though he didn’t share Marrec’s facility with swords, staves, and other implements of the warrior. Emmon often accompanied Marrec on his treks out of town into the edges of the badlands. Growing up, Emmon was Marrec’s closest friend.
Once Marrec and Emmon stayed out overnight on a dare. They set out, pockets bulging with hard rolls. Marrec had even thought to bring a waterskin filled from the well. Had the rain stayed away, their short overnight trip would have gone unremembered, but the rain did come that night, and with it a drop in temperature so extreme that the two boys were forced to seek shelter. They found a small cave, as had a mountain bear who was not eager to share.
The bear swiped Emmon across the shoulder, adding a flow of blood to the rain’s deluge. The attack’s brutality tumbled Marrec back out into the rain with his step-brother. Emmon lay moaning off to the side, while Marrec lay sprawled not more than a few feet from the cave. His hands scrabbled across the rain-slick forest floor. As the bear emerged from the cave-mouth to finish off the two intruders, one of Marrec’s hands closed about a thick wooden shaft. Knowledge flashed into his head—he knew what he had to do to survive the next two seconds. As the bear lunged, he pulled the broken tree branch up, aiming the pointed end at the descending bear, allowing the other end to remain butted into the earth. The bear plunged onto the shaft, sorely wounding itself.
After it ran off roaring through the rain, Marrec crouched over Emmon. The rain turned his black hair into a sodden mass that drained rivulets of water into Marrec’s face, but his hands were steady as he ripped strips of cloth from his own tunic and bandaged them around Emmon’s shoulder to stem the oozing blood. Marrec’s eyes burned like coals, but at that time he assumed it was pent up frustration …
Marrec saved Emmon, and both survived the punishments given them by their parents for their foolishness. When Marrec reached his sixteenth year, he took a commission with the village militia, such as it was. Though his adopted father would have preferred Marrec enter the family business, he was supportive of his son’s decision. After all, Marrec was something of a natural when it came to the arts of the warrior. Though far less suited, Emmon followed Marrec’s example.
CHAPTER 4
The crash of metal and a gurgling roar startled Marrec from reverie. He hadn’t gone more than a mile since leaving Fullpoint behind. Thrusting aside the forest growth without further regard for stealth, Marrec rushed forward several dozen feet. His dash ended as he broke out of the trees into a shaded glade.
He arrived in time to witness Gunggari slam his warclub into a rot fiend’s head. The blighted creature was one of half a dozen more pustule-ridden forest folk assembled in the glade in various postures, all inimical, though a few lay unmoving near Gunggari. Glad though he was to see his friend, his eyes darted past the Oslander. Standing plain as day was a massive lion-like beast whose skin was so encrusted with fungus that it seemed a shade of green. Marrec estimated that the lion stood six feet tall at the shoulder. The beast screamed, giving voice to the same shattering roar that Marrec had first heard. It was rooting after something caught in the bole of a large tree.
“By the Circle of Leth, you shall not have her!” called out a female voice.
A woman in warrior’s garb dropped into view from above the dire beast, swinging a leaf-shaped blade. She had been hiding in the tree. Her fall was purposeful; she struck the fungal lion a nasty blow with her blade as she fell past. Her precipitous drop ended in an expert roll that not only cushioned her impact but also put her just out of range of the beast’s first claw swipe. Marrec didn’t know who the woman was, but she already had his respect.
Then he saw the little girl behind the tree. She had to be Hemish’s foundling, Ash.
Marrec bolted forward, trying to skirt the volodnis. Gunggari would be able to deal with them. He hoped. Marrec doubted that the valorous woman would do as well against the savage beast without some help. It was his cue to act.
A bolt of black rot diverted Marrec. One of the rot fiends was tossing around potent magic. The bolt missed, striking an old tree stump. The stump immediately began to rot and molder. Marrec hoped the courageous woman could hold out a few more seconds against the beast. He first had to deal with the blighted forest creature that was versed in sorcery, and not a pleasant sort of sorcery.
He pointed his spear at the one who’d cast the enchantment his way, saying, “Leave, and we’ll let you go without harm.”
The one he pointed to sneered, breaking open a fluid-filled boil on its face as it did so. “It is you who should leave. We require the Horned Aspect. Lest blight take you, deliver her!”
Horned Aspect? He’d worry about that later. Too many names to match up with faces, though he wondered if the creature referred to Ash. He decided that his job of the moment was to see that the sorcerer ate its words.
Almost of its own accord, Justlance took flight. He knew even as the shaft left his grasp that it would speed true. He had just time enough to see the sorcerer’s filmy eyes widen before another volodni knocked him to his knees with a blow from behind. Where’d that little stinker come from?
He tried to spin around and back, though it was difficult on his knees. His immediate aggressor clutched an iron-headed mace. It grinned. “Too bad you had to kill Molkai,” it said, gesturing to where the sorcerer volodni was pinned to a tree by Justlance. “Now I kill you, easy.”
The mace-wielder had no way of knowing Marrec’s secret, so when the rot fiend’s triumphant charge ended suddenly on the point of Justlanc
e, its look of surprise before it expired was absolutely justified. An instant prior to stopping the charge, Justlance left the quivering body of the nearby volodni sorcerer. His spear could never be parted from its owner for long.
Gunggari had about mopped up the last of the remaining volodnis. Marrec levered himself to his feet and looked for Ash … Ah! The child still sheltered partly behind the roots of the large tree. Ash’s unknown female protector was also still in the game, rushing in to hack at the fungal lion, then dancing away just in time to avoid a lethal claw swipe. If the creature hadn’t been so focused on going back for the child, Marrec wondered if the woman would have fared so well. Each time it broke off its pursuit of the woman, she slashed it again with her blade. Still, she was obviously tired, while the greened lion seemed as strong as ever despite several lines of its own blood on its sides and some quantity of the same squalid fluid the volodnis leaked.
“Let’s get the cat, Gunggari!” shouted Marrec as he dashed in on the lion’s flank.
The woman heard him, too. As he came up behind and to one side of the lion and gave it a good jab with his spear, she closed on the opposite side, her leaf-shaped sword stabbing and slashing. The lion turned and swatted at him with a huge claw, green with rot, but he got out of the way. The woman got in another few telling blows, taking advantage of the creature’s divided attention.
Gunggari finally showed up, his dizheri soaked and matted with evidence of its recent work. He swung it around with both hands, connecting solidly with the side of the creature’s head. It yelped, blinking, and shook its head.
“It’s dazed,” yelled the woman. “Finish it!”
Marrec didn’t need to be told twice. He and Justlance got to work. With another mighty bash from the dizheri, the lion collapsed, unmoving.
In the ensuing quiet, Marrec and Gunggari eyed the woman. Dressed in sturdy brown and green leathers, she looked like she was more than at home in the forest. Of course! Her thin build and elongated features—she was an elf, though her hair hid the most tell-tale sign.
Marrec said to her, across the length of the unmoving lion, “I am Marrec. Gunggari,” he inclined his head toward the Oslander, “and I chased these monsters down. They kidnapped a child from a village they attacked.” He gestured back toward the girl. “Her father will be overjoyed to discover your part in saving her. Thank you.”
The elf smiled in acknowledgement but said nothing. She looked over to where Ash sheltered.
Ash had left the tree’s shadow and walked tentatively up to join them. All eyes fixed on the frail girl dressed in a simple peasant dress.
The girl glanced at each of them for a second, and said, “Ash.”
She looked to be between four and five years of age.
The unicorn warrior looked the child over for injuries. She seemed unscratched. Poor little tyke. He ruffled Ash’s hair. The girl merely looked at him, staying silent. No doubt she was still frightened by her recent kidnapping. He felt an instant fatherly affection for her, partly because he couldn’t help identifying with her. They were both orphans, though of course he wondered if her actual origin could be as strange as his own.
“What did she say?” wondered the elf.
“Ash is her name,” indicated Marrec, looking to the girl then back to the woman.
The elf figured out his unspoken question. She smiled again and raised her sword to her brow, as if a salute. “I am Elowen. I am a Nentyar hunter in service with the Circle of Leth. I’ve been trailing these volodnis for some time, trying to find out more about their recent incursions.”
Marrec was unfamiliar with most of those names. He decided to pursue the rot fiend topic. “They look like volodnis of which I’ve heard, but there is something wrong with these,” he said, pointing at the corpses.
“Yes,” continued Elowen. “These poor creatures suffer from an infection of body and mind. When unaflicted, we call them the pine folk, too. They normally live in the Lethyr Forest, the Rawlinswood, and the forests of Rashemen. These are a fair bit south of their natural ranges.”
“I’ve heard of volodnis but never seen them before,” responded Marrec. “I’ve heard that they can be vengeful protectors of the forest. Perhaps the people of Ash’s village somehow riled them up?”
Elowen rubbed her jaw and said, “Well, they can be antagonistic to the ‘warm folk’ as they call us. But I assure you, as a servant of the Nentyarch, I’ve dealt several times with volodnis, and none are like these. Volodnis do not normally rot as if dead but continue to draw breath. These are …”
“They are evil,” finished Gunggari.
She nodded, then looked to Gunggari and back to Marrec. “If you haven’t seen volodnis before, you must come from far away.”
She grinned, looking again at Gunggari. “Especially you.”
The Oslander offered a tiny smile back at her, said, “Far, far to the south was my home. Where I come from, everything is different. I am an explorer.”
“Indeed. And you?” Her gaze was back on Marrec.
Marrec answered, “I hail from the west, where I serve the goddess Lurue. I am here because … this child is somehow important to the goddess, though I have as yet no understanding of how that could be.”
Elowen rubber her palms together. “Let us compare stories, and perhaps some pieces may come together for all of us.”
“Great. Let’s start with why you were trailing these creatures,” said Marrec.
Elowen replied, “As I said, this rot is not something volodnis have exhibited before. As an agent of Leth, it is my job to protect the forests for the Nentyarch. If the volodnis are suffering from disease or have leagued with evil, I need to know. That’s why I’m here following this particular group. Plus, I have a friend up in Two Stars who promised to help me out. She owes me.”
“Whoa … slow down,” said Marrec. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Explain it to me as if I were a complete stranger to your land.” He let a smile touch his lips.
“Sure. The Forest of Lethyr to the northwest of here is home to the followers of the Nentyarch. The Nentyarch is a very, very powerful druid, and he and his followers are collectively known as the Circle of Leth …”
“And the Nentyar hunters serve the Circle, right?” guessed Marrec.
“Right. I’m a hunter. We’re a group made up of rangers, scouts, and warriors. We carry out the commands of the druid circle voluntarily, for the good of the forest. When we join in service, we swear to defend the great forests and do the Nentyarch’s bidding.”
“My goddess Lurue has often found common ground with druids,” offered Marrec.
“Her name is one honored by the Circle, I’ve heard. What brings a servant of Lurue so far east?”
“Her silence,” muttered the cleric.
Elowen waited for more.
“Something is not right with Lurue. I’ve been following portents, looking for a promised Child of Light who will … somehow make things right. I think Ash is the child, but now that I’ve found her, I’m not sure what to do next.”
Gunggari said, “These evil pine men are caught up in Ash’s fate and maybe Lurue’s. If we discover the pine men’s interest, maybe we can find out why she’s important to Lurue.”
“A lot of maybes,” opined Marrec, “but I have nothing better to go on. Ash is not talking at the moment.” He patted the mute child on the head. “We need to find out more about these blighted volodnis—these rot fiends.” He looked back at Elowen.
“Agreed,” said Elowen. “You are welcome to join me to see my friend in Two Stars. She is an adept of many lores, and she may know something about these volodnis. Then I must report back to the Nentyarch. It’s been too long since I’ve gone back … but Ususi should be consulted, now that we have this new information in hand.”
“Ususi is your friend?”
“Ususi Manaallin. She also hails from a place far distant from here. She came here long ago, and her knowledge of certain mystical sites of
the forest is unsurpassed, even by the Nentyarch himself. She knows the Mucklestones especially well.”
“Why do we care about mucklestones?” wondered Marrec.” Because, these blighted volodnis I have been following issued from that ancient site just over a month ago. I witnessed their departure. Of late, I’ve spent much time in the vicinity of the Mucklestones …” The elf smiled fondly as if over some personal memory. “Anyway, something evil has taken root in the Mucklestones, and of all the people I know, Ususi best knows the Mucklestones. She has made their study her work.”
“Exactly where are the Mucklestones located?” asked Marrec, that time pronouncing the name with the proper gravity. The place seemed like it must be important and perhaps somehow connected to Ash, and if so, then also to Lurue.
“They are at the northeastern tip of the Forest of Lethyr. The city of Two Stars is not too far out of the way, if the Mucklestones prove to be our eventual destination.”
Marrec considered, still standing close to the child. The girl looked at him, saying nothing, and reacting not at all to the field of slain creatures around her. If Ash truly was the Child of Light, whatever the true significance of that name, and if the volodnis were after her because of it, she wouldn’t be safe back in her village. She’d be safest with him, Gunggari, and perhaps with the hunter Elowen. After all, Elowen had already saved Ash once.
Marrec decided. “Gunggari, we’re going to Two Stars. Ash is going with us.”
“What about the peasant, Hemish?” wondered the tattooed soldier. “He will want his daughter back.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll go back and satisfy Hemish that the girl will be safest in our care. If he truly wants what’s best for the child’s welfare, he’ll allow her to remain with us. It may be that Ash is blessed with a secret, perhaps even the secret behind Lurue’s silence.”
It was decided. Elowen indicated she’d accompany him and Gunggari back to Fullpoint, being grateful for their help in slaying the evil pine folk, and hopeful that their involvement might aid her efforts in the future.
Lady of Poison Page 3
