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.
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 comedie, 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.
CHAPTER 8
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 conife
r, 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 girl 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 trees.”
“How far?” repeated Ususi, a somewhat testy tone to her voice.
“With a clear route and no trouble, it’d be no more than a day’s travel, but of course wending through the trees will slow us. I estimate we’ll reach the Mucklestones tomorrow evening.”
Ususi shook her head and said, “Not soon enough for me. Even one more night of’ camping’ is more than I can handle.”
Gunggari grinned at the mage’s words but said nothing. Marrec forbade comment, too, realizing that for the city woman, stone-like skin or not, their trip must have been hard to endure.
“What?” Gunggari snapped, stepping back and looking intently up into the leafy foliage ahead and above them. The Oslander had pulled out his dizheri just as quickly.
The others all reacted with alarm, peering ahead and grabbing up their weapons.
“What’s going on?” demanded Ususi.
Marrec strained his eyes but saw nothing unusual amidst the dripping leaves. It was midmorning, but the light, already filtered by lowering clouds, was further reduced under the trees.
“Gunny, what is it? I don’t see anything.”
“It’s gone now, Marrec,” responded the tattooed warrior, still looking forward intently, “but something was watching us—some sort of ape.”
“There are no apes in Lethyr,” pronounced Elowen.
“It wasn’t exactly an ape,” continued Gunggari. “At first I thought a man’s face was staring at me, but then I saw that gray-white hair covered its twisted limbs, and it had more than just two eyes—many more than I could count in the heartbeat it appeared to me.”
Elowen frowned.
“Uthraki?” she murmured, almost under her breath.
“What’s an uthraki?” wondered Marrec.
“A nasty beast native to Rashemen. I have never heard of one so far west. They are confined to Rashemen and further east—or they were.”
“Anything we should know about these uthraki?” asked Marrec.
“Yes. They can assume forms other than their own.”
Gunggari narrowed his eyes, and gripped his war club all the tighter.
All variety of trees were contained within Lethyr, Marrec realized: maples, firs, aspens, pines, holly, oaks, tulip-trees, crabapples, and many more that the cleric could not name, despite his familiarity with forests to the west. Of wildlife, they heard and saw many birds, a fox chasing a rabbit, more squirrels than could be numbered, a sleepy owl, and once, far off, the yip of a wolf.
A full day of travel under the dark boughs saw light give way to nearly complete twilight. The white trunks of the aspen grove through which they currently wended glowed all the paler for the growing dimness of the surrounding pines. The green leaves glimmered and shook in a sudden breeze of colder air. Night was coming on, and the sounds of the forest began to change, as some creatures sought their lairs, and others, stretching, began their nightly rounds. At the urging of the wind, the rustling forest leaves sounded their nightly chorus.
Elowen walked at the head of the group, leading her mount. The elf finally paused and smiled, saying, “Ah ha. I knew there was a waycache around here. Come on, follow me.”
The elf hunter dropped the reigns of her horse, moved along the side of a massive boulder that was butted up against a cliff, then dipped around behind it out of sight.
Marrec shrugged and dismounted. Before hobbling his own horse for the night, he helped down Ususi. Ususi plucked Ash from her pony then moved to follow Elowen, leaving Marrec with the job of grooming, feeding, and hobbling the horses.
“They know the silent art of delegation,” noted Gunggari, as the Oslander helped Marrec take care of all their mounts’ needs.
Marrec grinned but added, “You have to admit, there is something about the mage …”
“My people ask if beauty at a steep price is still beauty, Marrec.”
The unicorn warrior laughed, saying, “Don’t worry, Gunny. I’ve got enough on my plate with just the two women in my life, Lurue and Ash. I don’t want to add a third to the mix.”
Despite his pronouncement, he knew himself well enough to realize the damage had already been done. He found Ususi exotic. Damn.
“What about you, though?” Marrec quizzed his friend. “I notice you have been treating Elowen to far more stories of’ your land’ than I’ve heard from your mouth in a year. Something tells me you’re showing off.”
Gunggari cocked his head without responding and finished grooming Henri.
When the two men finished, they passed through the cleft formed by boulder and cliff and found a small hollow cunningly cut into the cliff wall. The space was far larger than Marrec would have supposed from the outside. He guessed he might be able to get the mounts into the space, though that might be pushing it. Elowen had hung her lamp on an overhanging branch, washing everything in dim radia
nce.
Several cavities, like inset shelves, were cut into the rock of the surrounding boulders. Elowen went through these shelves as Marrec watched, pulling out small leaf wrapped packets. Ususi sat on a small moss-lined boulder, her nose in one of the books she had brought. Ash sat nearby, looking nowhere in particular. On the far side of the waycache, water from a spring spilled into a carved basin, then drained again from one side into a small ravine that slipped back under the earth. Marrec used and even maintained similar caches for travelers in the woods of Cormanthor and even in the High Forest, but he had to admit that the hidden spring was a nice touch.
“I don’t understand,” said Elowen, still going through the contents of the shelves. “This waycache hasn’t been restocked in at least a year by the looks of these.” She gestured to the few leaf-wrapped parcels she had drawn out. The leaves were dried and brown, which Marrec knew spoke volumes about the freshness of whatever was contained within.
Ash stood without prodding, which was unusual, walked over and nudged one of the wrappers. The girl’s nose wrinkled, as if in disgust.
“What is it?” said Marrec, rushing up to his charge.
Losing interest, Ash lapsed back into her normal uncaring stare.
“She must sense the spoilage,” responded Elowen. “We’re stuck with our own rations for a few more nights, it seems. I can’t understand why this cache hasn’t been restocked. Briartan never allows this portion of the wood to go untended.”
Gunggari asked, “How close are we to the Mucklestones from here?”
“Just a few miles,” answered Elowen. “I thought this would be a good place to rest up before plunging ahead. I want us to be rested when we meet the great druid.”
Ususi looked up. She said, “Briartan has the Mucklestones in his charge. The Mucklestones are blocked. I doubt Briartan would have allowed that if he could have stopped it. Since he couldn’t stop it, he’s probably …”
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