Bruce Cordell - Lady of Poison

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.

Marrec toweled the girl’s hair dry with the hem of his cloak. The child briefly fixed him with her dull gaze. “Ash,” she commented.

Elowen walked back to join him, as did Gunggari. Ususi on her horse was already close. They had an impromptu conference beneath the weepy canopy.

The elf hunter said, “I’ve brought us in just to the south of a human settlement on the forest edge. I think we’re far enough from their loggers,” she sniffed. “Likewise, all the wood elves who inhabit Lethyr are clustered further to the west and south of here, so we’ll likely avoid having to explain our presence to them. Really, it’s a straight shot through the treess”