Lady of Poison p-1

by Bruce R Cordell

  “Who holds the castle?” asked Gunggari.

  Elowen answered, “That’s Gallidy Castle. Lady Yolatir Gallidy is the latest to govern Two Stars. She’s not especially heavy handed, and lets the trade flow pretty much unhindered. As you can guess, she’s a favorite of the guilds.”

  “Two Stars. That’s a nice name,” said Marrec, as they continued to move toward the city.

  “I believe it is named for the stars of the east and west that ‘meet’ in the heavens overhead. A good omen for trade, they say.”

  Marrec nodded, and they headed into town. The influx of those entering Two Stars was checked by toll collectors. Apparently their lack of a trade wagon made the group exempt from tax, and they were waved through.

  “Let’s go see your friend straightaway,” said Marrec. “We can find an inn later.”

  Elowen nodded and started down the Golden Way.

  It was bustling with carts, temporary and permanent storefronts, and the conversation of what seemed like thousands of people buying and selling all manner of things. The assortment of people was no less strange. Marrec guessed that he saw at least thirty different races, including a few gnolls, giants, and ores in fine cloth, which was a racial mixture he rarely if ever encountered in the west.

  The amount of space given over to trade was really quite impressive. The larger side avenues were lined with tents of jugglers, puppeteers, dancing girls, hammer-throwers, fire-swallowers, and hedge wizards of every stripe. But along the main trade road was where the real merchandise could be found. There were tables, stalls, and the cleverly fashioned unfolding wagons of merchants who’d lugged their goods from all corners of Faeriin. Cattle, food, timber, iron, oysters, wool, gem-stones, parchment and inks, glass, weaponry, charms of real power, and a host of additional items too many to take note of were bought and sold. The constant scream of conversation in dozens of languages, but mostly variously accented Common, was almost oppressive.

  The crowds made their walk a slow one, as they did their best to ignore the cries and promises of the merchants on either side. Finally, Elowen found a side-street that was apparently not part of the trade road, for only a few people walked along the muddy-track. The buildings on either side seemed more given to warehousing than retailing.

  Gunggari breathed a slight sigh of relief. Marrec knew the Oslander hated crowds. On the other hand, Ash seemed oblivious as she happily rode on the back of her pony. Marrec had been a little apprehensive that the child would react poorly to such a press of strangers.

  Before too long they reached a tenement district. Children played in the narrow streets, knocking a wooden ball back and forth with a stout club. Elowen got her bearings, then made her way down a tight alley, which opened into an unkempt grassy courtyard that hid behind the backs of four buildings.

  The top of a dome-shaped structure protruded from the ground at courtyard’s center, rising no more than waist-high. Small holes pocked the surface of the dome, each punching a shaft down into darkness. Near the dome, broad stone stairs plunged down nine steep steps to a door. Marrec realized that the door probably allowed access to the interior of the buried structure. He surmised it was the home or lab of Elowen’s friend, Ususi.

  Marrec lifted Ash off Henri’s back.

  “Wait here, why don’t you?” he muttered to Henri as he hobbled the pony.

  Elowen led the way down the steps to the door. She put her hand to the knocker, striking three times, paused, then two more, a final pause, then a single loud rap. She glanced back and said, “That’s to let Ususi know it’s me.”

  “Nice,” Marrec commented with the hint of a grin.

  After a wait of just under half minute, a woman appeared at the door. She almost smiled when she saw the elf hunter. “Elowen. I wondered what had become of you.” She glanced at Marrec, Gunggari, and Ash. What might have been a smile froze into a less welcoming expression. “And I see you’ve brought friends.” The woman had a noticeable accent, but one Marrec couldn’t place.

  More striking than her accent was the woman’s skin, which was a pale, stony color, complete with what almost seemed to be mineral veins running through it. Her hair and eyes were coal black, though the hint of her initial smile had been almost inviting. She wore a greatcoat inlaid with arcane symbols. A surprisingly large book was attached to her belt on her left sideMarrec had seen other wizards carry tomes of penned spells in a similar manner, and on her right, a small wand pouch dyed bright yellow.

  Inside, the domed ceiling proved to be pockmarked with skylightsthose were the holes they’d seen in the dome from the surface. The light wasn’t allowed down into the chamber unimpeded. A host of strange objects, dangled from the curved ceiling, all at slightly different heights. Various lamps, roots of assorted bulbous shape, sheaves of aromatic grasses, stuffed animals (mostly birds), and other less identifiable pieces wereon display. By far the most prominent hanging items were minerals and crystals of every sort.

  On the floor level, squat bookshelves overflowed with tomes on all sides, while a great desk in the very center of the chamber contained piles of books, scrolls, and sheaves of unbound paper. Ususi was obviously very scholarly, if an avid collector of strange hangings.

  “Come in. I will make tea, as you showed me, Elowen.” Ususi retreated, sighing, and began to finger through various herbs hanging above their heads.

  “You taught her to make tea?” Marrec quietly asked Elowen as they pulled chairs from one wall. Marrec picked up Ash and put her on one knee.

  “Yes.”

  He’d hoped Elowen might elaborate. He wondered about Ususi’s background. The woman’s skin-tone indicated a place of origin even farther away than Gunggari, possibly.

  “Now then,” continued Ususi, as she found a mortar and pestle from a rear shelf, apparently to grind the leaves she had selected, “Please tell me the purpose of such a large gathering in my dwelling. Who is the child?”

  Ash sat staring up at the throng of suspended items. Her expression remained unchanged as she made a single comment. “Ash.”

  “She does that,” explained Marrec. “That’s all she does. I mean, that’s all she ever says.” Unaccountably, he felt a bit tongue-tied talking to Ususi. Must be those night black eyes. Her eyes were dark, like twin wells with un-plumbed depths.

  Ususi raised an eyebrow as if to ask, ‘and so?’

  When the cleric didn’t respond immediately, Elowen said, “She’s the reason we’re here, Ususi. At least, she’s part of the reason. I’m afraid we are also here because of the Mucklestones.”

  At that, Ususi paused as she was about to pour the crushed leaves into seeping spoons. She looked concerned, but waited for Elowen to continue.

  Elowen obliged, “Corruption is abroad. I’ve been tracking a group of blighted volodnis for over a month, south and east out of the Forest of Lethyr. We have determined that the volodnis were searching for this girl, Ash.” The elf pointed to the child.

  “Blighted volodnis?” wondered Ususi.

  “I call them rot fiends,” offered Marrec helpfully.

  “Yesblighted in a way that I do not fully understand,” Elowen continued. The elf bit her lip as if keeping something back. “In any event, I knew you would want to know, because they emerged from the Mucklestones.”

  “By the Hidden Delve,” exclaimed Ususi. “I knew it. I’ve been trying to access the portal stones for tendays, unsuccessfully.” Before Marrec could ask what she meant, Ususi continued, “It’s all interference, on every theurgic channel I am able to probe. Nor could I contact Briartan, the keeper of the stones. One other name keeps popping up, though, through the interference: Gameliel. That name means nothing to me, but…”

  The hunter balled her fists.

  Marrec asked, “Who is Gameliel?”

  Elowen took a breath, said, “Gameliel is a blightlord, a being of terrible, corrupt power.” Her eyes grew flinty. “If a blightlord is in the Forest of Lethyr, he must be rooted out. The corruption of the volod
nis I followed must have been his doing. His doing, or his masters’.”

  Marrec turned the words over in his mind, looking for a connection with Lurue or Ash. He came up blank. He said “I’m as much in the dark as ever. Why is this Gameliel seeking Ash?” The problem, he decided, was that he still couldn’t come up with a connection even between Ash and Lurue. Until he figured out that bond, he would likely continue to be at sea.

  Ususi mused, “Why indeed? More information is required. Elowen, tell us more about this blightlord, and this master of which you speak. If we bring all the facts to the surface, perhaps connections can be made.”

  “Gameliel is but one of three currently active blightlords. Each is powerful in his or her own right, but all serve a still greater master. I’ve been afraid Gameliel was active beyond the Rawlinswood, but I had no proof until now. The other two blightlords are called Anammelech and Damanda. The blightlords all serve a single master: the Rotting Man, also called the Talontyr.”

  Ash, silent for so long, drew in her breath, as if in response to the last name.

  All eyes found the child.

  Ash was gazing at the hanging items, apparently without a care in the world, or cognizance of anything other than hanging roots, grasses, and bulbs.

  When it was apparent that no further response was forthcoming from Ash, Elowen continued, “The Rotting Man is more aspect than mortal, but he is an aspect of decay. He is one of the Circle of Lethe’s most potent and long standing enemies. If the Rotting Man’s servant, Gameliel, is abroad in Lethyr, I must find and stop him. Even if I should succeed in that task, I must report back to the Nentyarch himself, who must be warned of the Rotting Man’s newest embassy. He already holds most of Rawlinswoodhe can’t be allowed to infect the Forest of Lethyr.”

  “What are these Mucklestones? Why would Gameliel desire their control?” interjected Gunggari.

  “They are ancient and potent,” responded Ususi. “Though not all their powers are understood by any one person, save possibly for Briartan, one thing is certain: they serve as magical portals, allowing access to and from distant places across, and under, Faerun.” By the significant tone in her voice, Marrec wondered if the strange woman knew more than she was saying concerning the Mucklestones, but he didn’t press the woman.

  “Gameliel would want them for the same reason anyone mightin order to quickly transport himself, or his forces, without the need to physically travel the distance in between,” said Elowen.

  All were quiet for a time, considering.

  Ususi poured hot tea into dainty blue stone cups and offered them to each traveler, except for Ash.

  Marrec took a sip. Interesting. Something like a cross between citrus and cinnamon. He felt some of his travel-induced weariness melt from him.

  “Thank you,” said Gunggari, also enjoying his tea.

  Elowen merely sipped and smiled, evidently familiar with the revitalizing effects of Ususi’s brew. For the moment, she was content watching the steam from her cup rise in simple loops and ribbons.

  Ususi observed, “What about this child? I don’t understand her rolewhy is she here? And the rest of you?” She pointed to Marrec and Gunggari. The woman seemed impatient, as if lack of understanding was a position unfamiliar to her.

  Marrec’s stomach sank. He realized then that Ususi knew nothing of Ash.

  Marrec sighed, “None of us understand her role. My friend Gunggari and I are here because of her, and her apparent connection to these Mucklestones. All I know is that she is somehow important to my goddess Lurue.”

  Marrec launched into the story, telling Ususi about the goddess’ growing silence over recent years, and the signs that finally led him to Ash, supposedly as an answer to these troubles.

  When Marrec finished, Ususi frowned, sipped her tea, and offered no immediate response.

  “Well?” asked Marrec, a little impatient in his own right.

  “Your goddess is unfamiliar to me… she has not been one of my areas of study, but,” Ususi raised her hands, forestalling Marrec’s frustrated sigh, “I do have a strong feeling about this. Unless my eldritch intuition is astray, Briartan of the Mucklestones can provide you some answers to your questions.”

  Elowen nodded, saying, “There is little knowledge that Briartan does not gather to himself.”

  The unicorn warrior settled back, looking again at Ash. He had hoped to return Ash to her father after the Two Stars trip, but that was not to be, at least not immediately. The cleric would have to take the only other option available. He’d have to travel to the Mucklestones and confront mysterious Gameliel and demand an answer.

  Marrec declared, “Then I’m going to the Mucklestones. If Briartan can’t aid me, perhaps Gameliel can answer my questions.” Gunggari nodded.

  Elowen added, “You can question him, but do it quickly. I am sworn to destroy Gameliel. Unless you object, I’d like to continue accompanying you.”

  “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 f
act, 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.

  CHAPTER 7

  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.