Lady of Poison (2 page)

Marrec said, “The closer we come to finding Hemish, and hopefully this mysterious Child of Light, the spottier becomes my contact. I doubt that Lurue does not want me to answer this riddle, and I don’t think she is

becoming neglectful… I think that she is somehow being prevented from making contact…”

Marrec stopped speaking and cocked his head.

“Did you hear that?”

Faint cries and the ring of metal on metal echoed from over the hill. A thick stream of smoke tumbled up from behind the rise ahead. Something was burning, and it didn’t look like a chimney.

“Let’s go!” shouted Marrec.

Racing to the top of the hill, Marrec and Gunggari saw the source of the cries and smoke: a small village in the forest clearing was’under attack. Creatures swarmed around the buildings, smiting villagers and setting fire to buildings. At first glance, the attackers seemed to be small animate trees.

“By the Ancestor,” muttered Gunggari. The Oslander swept up his walking staff, ready for trouble, brandishing it like the warclub it actually was. He waited for Marrec’s cue.

Marrec took a second to take stock.

The attacking creatures were not trees after all. In fact, they somewhat resembled humans, though their skin was the deep olive-green of a pine needle. Their flesh was woody and tough, but they all sported oozing sores from which a putrid slime seeped, as if they were slowly rotting. Their hair grew out in long, thick locks scaled like the bark of a young tree. Their eyes gleamed black with hatred. The creatures seemed somewhat familiar to Marrec, something he’d learned about in his training: they were similar to creatures called volodnis, but he didn’t think true volodnis had such a sense of rot or decay about them as these oozing creatures had, but he was no expert.

Buildings continued to burn. Several humans and attackers lay wounded or dead in the village street. If the creatures had some goal, it wasn’t apparent, unless it was simple mayhem.

A sickening realization occurred to Marrec. He said, “Gunggari… I think this is the village of Fullpoint!”

With that, he leaped down the other side of the hill, pulling his spear from where he kept it strapped to his back. Called Justlance, the spear tip was fashioned of gleaming adamantine in the shape of a regal unicorn horn. It was possessed of a potent enchantment that Marrec’s past enemies had learned to fear, if they survived their initial meeting.

Gunggari followed Marrec but first raised one end of the long warclub to his lips. He blew down the hollow tube carved through the bole. A noise blazed forth. The sound, like a huge animal roaring or screaming—Marrec could never be sure—froze the volodnis and villagers alike with its hackle-raising ululation.

Marrec used the moment of distraction to run right up to one of the startled outlying attackers. The blighted thing had been in the middle of throttling a young farmer. Barely pausing in his dash toward the center of town, the unicorn warrior swept the tip of his spear across the volodni’s neck. With a gurgling cry of pain, the creature flopped to the ground, oozing a combination of clear sap and black rot. Its former captive jumped back, gasping for breath, but Marrec was already running toward a larger concentration of attackers.

Gunggari was right on Marrec’s heels. The tattooed soldier was far quicker than Marrec, especially without armor weighing him down, which proved lucky. A blighted volodni Marrec hadn’t noticed jumped him from behind. Gunggari’s warclub crunched against the creature’s head, and the beast bleated and fell away from Marrec before it could do much more than scratch at his armor. Marrec darted a glance backward and saw that Gunggari had engaged the creature. He knew it’d take but seconds for Gunggari to dispatch an average foe. For all Marrec’s physical prowess, he knew that the tattooed soldier was his better in straight-up combat, but not by much.

The other attackers began to respond to Marrec and Gunggari’s advance. Marrec could hear them calling to one another, warning of the counterattack. Their speech had the sound of pine-needles rubbing together in a strong wind. Ahead, the creatures began to mass. Other outlying attackers began to fade back into the trees.

It was difficult to estimate how many rot fiends had to be dealt with. Marrec spied more of the creatures running off into the trees that lined the town to the northwest. Good, the fewer he had to deal with the better. Unfortunately, a few braver creatures ahead were obviously prepared to receive their charge. Better take it slow.

“How many, do you think?” asked Marrec, pausing his headlong rush.

“More than ten, less than twenty,” responded Gunggari, as he came up alongside.

“Like those odds?”

“I’ve faced worse.”

“Then let’s show these failed trees their mistake,” exclaimed Marrec. “I’ll take the right flank. You got left?” Gunggari nodded.

They charged. Marrec peeled off to the right, Gunggari left. The volodnis’ force split roughly down the middle, but those making up Marrec’s half failed to turn quickly enough to defend against his initial spear thrust. The spiral spear-head began to glow white, a light akin to the moon’s glow, though it wasn’t too distinct in day’s full light. The first one went down with a spear thrust to the eye. Black rot spewed but failed to adhere to Justlance, just one of the advantages of a weapon blessed by a deity.

Two other creatures rushed forward where their brother had fallen. One attempted to duck under the shaft while the other offered a distraction. Marrec had been a spear fighter long enough to know that the first rule of the spear is to never allow an enemy to get under the range of the shaft. He backed up a step and choked up his grip. A slash across the creature’s exposed stomach

ended its days. The other used that second to launch itself, but Marrec knew what he was doing. Without changing his grip, he swung the butt-end of the shaft around in a violent figure eight, catching the monster on the temple. The beast was stunned just long enough for another thrust. Another rot fiend down.

Something banged against his left shoulder hard enough to spin him half around. Another blighted volodni, a thick cudgel in hand, had appeared from the rear, landing a solid blow. Pain arced from his shoulder a second later, but it wasn’t fast enough to stop him from downing the author of his discomfort with an expert thrust of Justlance.

Only four more were facing in his direction. He’d thinned them enough to tell that much. Behind them, a furious churning of limbs, clubs, and shouts showed that the tattooed soldier was still on his feet. Marrec had expected nothing less, but it wasn’t the time to get cocky.

The villagers who’d borne the brunt of the attack were taking advantage of Marrec and Gunggari’s advent to pull back from the conflict. Some had pails and were, shouting about the fire. Good. If they were quick enough, only a few outbuildings would burn.

“Marrec!”

The unicorn warrior’s gaze snapped back to the fight. Apparently their foes had decided that splitting themselves between Marrec and Gunggari was a poor choice. They’d rectified it by concentrating all their attacks on Gunggari. The Oslander was pressed up against the wooden palisade, keeping his attackers at bay with crushing swings of his dizheri. Even as he watched, Gunggari batted one of the creatures back so hard that it actually flew several feet through the air before tumbling into a dead, oozing heap. The smell of putrid rot intensified. Another scored a hit with its cudgel, causing the Oslander to stumble.

Time to bring to bear another facet of Lurue’s power.

While he reveled in his martial skill, the divine power Lurue granted her servants was just as potent, or it had been, before the change. These days, each spell was hard won, and Marrec used them sparingly. Each one he used was a precious gift, that seemingly could no longer be replaced.

Taking one hand from Justlance’s shaft, he began to inscribe a Sign of Capitulation in the air with one finger, drawing lines of burning fire with quick strokes. Before he could properly finish, a volodni menacing Gunggari glanced back, squealed, and tried to stick a sword in Marrec’s belly.

Marrec had to abandon the spell before finishing the air rune.

“Curse you!” exclaimed Marrec, fumbling backward. That spell was hard won, and he wondered if he would be able to renew it or another of its potency with things being what they were. To see the spell wasted without effect made the unicorn warrior see red. “Rot take you!”

The blighted volodni followed up on its success by pressing its attacks with a series of wild swings, some of which landed. None pierced Marrec’s silver mail, but each would leave a painful bruise.

“Think you’ve got me?” Marrec asked his attacker. Taking up Justlance in both hands, he knocked aside his attacker’s blade, then completed the motion by driving the shaft a foot into the creature’s breast. “Turns out, you’re wrong.”

In the meantime, Gunggari had eradicated a few more attackers. As Marrec moved in once more to help the Oslander, the remaining creatures broke off and fled toward the trees. Marrec launched his spear at the hindmost rot fiend. The shaft arrowed through the air and struck a volodni’s retreating form at a distance of thirty feet. The force of the cast knocked the creature to the ground, pinning the beast where it lay. The volodni moved no more, though it commenced leaking a tainted fluid.

“You like risks,” commented Gunggari, as the Oslander began to stoically clean the sides of his musical instrument-cum-warclub. “What if your throw had merely lodged in the rotting one? He could have retreated with your weapon.”

“The shot was clear, I knew I wouldn’t miss. Besides, perhaps, even after all this time, you don’t know all Justlance’s abilities.”

Gunggari raised one eyebrow. Marrec just smiled without elaborating. He was naturally lighthearted and preferred to focus on the positive, though internally he still cursed the loss of the Sign of Capitulation. He quickly paced the distance to where his spear still stood quivering in the form of the blighted volodni. The stink was unpleasant. Pulling the shaft free released an even stronger whiff of corruption which pushed Marrec back.

“Phew! These things aren’t undead, but they are almost as rot-infested as an animated corpse.”

“If not undead, then what? I assumed they were the work of necromancy,” called Gunggari from where he stood, still cleaning his dizheri. Because it was his sole possession, the tattooed solider was never lax in the instrument’s care.

“Don’t know. Something bad, though,” Lurue’s cleric offered, grinning at his own understatement.

A few villagers, having saved what buildings they could from the fire, eyed Gunggari. It was obvious they didn’t quite know what to make of the southerner. The Oslander pretended not to notice the looks as he finalized the process of returning the dizheri to an unblemished state.

Marrec walked toward two who seemed to have led the fire-extinguishing initiative, an older man and a stern, dark haired woman. As he walked up, the woman eyed him.

She said, “You have the thanks of Fullpoint, but if you’re looking for a reward, I’m afraid the town’s treasury was used earlier this spring to buy seed.”

Marrec shook his head, “Nope. It was a deed done for pure purposes, and with the blessing of Lurue, the queen of goodly peoples and beasts everywhere. My name is Marrec, and I am Lurue’s servant. My friend’s name is Gunggari Ulmarra, and he is a traveler from far lands but a good soul.”

“I’m Tansia; this is Korven,” the woman said, pointing to the older man. “You have our thanks. Though we can’t pay you in coin, we can put you up and feed you and your companion for as long as you wish to stay in Fullpoint.”

“Very kind, Tansia, but perhaps you can answer me a question: I seek one named Hemish, Hemish of Fullpoint. Do you know this man?” Hope pitched Marrec’s voice slightly higher than his normally smooth baritone.

The woman nodded, looking bemused, “Hemish? Of course. He keeps cattle. He lives just east of here on the town’s edge. I can take you there.”

“Please, lead on.”

As they walked, leading a procession of the curious, Tansia asked, “Pardon my curiosity, Marrec, but what brings you to Fullpoint after Hemish? He is a simple man, and he and his daughter keep pretty much to themselves.”

Marrec said simply, “He was revealed to me in a vision.”

Tansia nodded uncertainly but said nothing more. In short order, she led him up to a home little different than many of the other village buildings. It, too, showed signs of the recent conflict. Marrec decided he didn’t like the look of the bashed and ruined door, which hung off its hinges. He rushed up the two steps and looked inside. He had Justlance ready in case of lingering rot fiends.

An older man lay on the floor, bleeding, but alive, and conscious. His wild eyes met Marrec’s. His mouth moved, as he tried to get something out.

Marrec kneeled to tend the fallen man. “If you’re Hemish, I’ve come a long way seeking you. I’ll heal your wounds, don’t worry.”

Still the man, his white hair in disarray and eyes wild, tried to speak.

“What is it? What are you trying to tell me?” wondered Marrec.

Finally, Hemish spoke.

“They’ve taken her!”

V

Hemish’s pronouncement was unlikely to bode anything but poorly for Marrec’s quest, but first things first. Marrec probed the man’s wounds with an experienced hand. The worst was a head wound The cleric would be able to dress the other gashes and scrapes with gauze and salve he kept for mundane hurts, but the head wound would turn ugly if left untended by anything less than divine cleansing. Marrec sighed. His resolution to conserve his divine spells in case he completely lost contact with Lurue was being tested. There was Hemish, whom he had sought on the goddess’ inspiration. He was there because of a divine vision.

He laid a hand upon the fallen man’s brow and whispered the words of power given him The head wound ceased seeping blood as the puncture closed over as if it had never been. As the pain faded, Hemish blinked in surprise, but

his mouth began to work, as if newfound health was the fuel he needed to launch into a yelling fit.