Lady of Poison_ The Priests - Bruce R. Cordell [2]
"Ash," she crooned in his arms.
Mausa's expression, too, changed. Scorn made way for fear. The woman pulled her horse quickly away.
CHAPTER 2
Spring, 1373 DR
The air was too warm for Marrec.
The link chain of his armor hung heavily on the padding he wore between the silver mail and his skin, causing sweat to bead and run. He removed a gauntlet, stuffed it into his belt, and mopped his brow. He felt the old scars beneath his fingers, scars hidden by his hairline. He hardly gave them a thought. After a lifetime of repressing those memories, recollections of his past rarely caught him off guard.
Marrec looked over at his companion who walked with him down the tree-lined road. He felt a little envious of Gunggari, who didn't wear much of anything, save for a collection of strange tattoos, thick-soled leather shoes, and a breech-clout. Earlier, the noon-day sun's glare had been tempered by a breeze, but the road had passed into a forested acreage. The trees stood tall on either side but failed to reach their branches across the gap of the road. The sun beat down through the gap, but the trees blocked the cooling breeze.
"Hot enough for you, Gunny?" Marrec asked his friend.
Gunggari shrugged and smiled. "Good weather for walking."
"Maybe, if you're not wearing fifty pounds of armor," snorted Marrec.
Gunggari Ulmarra was a strange one. Though he'd traveled with the southerner for over two years, Marrec was still unused to the man's disdain for the trappings of civilization, especially clothing. All Gunggari cared about was the long, stout wooden tube he carried, which he was currently using as a walking staff. Marrec had seen Gunggari use the thing as a warclub and a musical instrument with equal facility. Colorful designs dotted the tube's exterior. It was called a dizheri and was an object peculiar to Gunggari's home. Gunggari didn't talk much about the nation of his origin, other than to say he hailed from the far south "beyond the girdle of the world" in a place called Osse. There Gunggari was known as a tattooed soldier. Marrec wasn't sure if the name was a designation or a title, as in The Tattooed Soldier. The Oslander had never deigned to explain, and Marrec didn't push him on the topic, especially because so much time had passed since they took up traveling together.
"Ask Lurue a boon-perhaps a cooling breeze?" joked Gunggari.
Lurue was Marrec's patron goddess, to whom he owed fealty and from which he drew much of his strength. Because he was already annoyed by the heat, Marrec chose to interpret the statement seriously.
"Gunny, you know I can't waste her time for personal indulgences. Besides, it's getting worse." He admitted the last almost under his breath.
He sighed. Contact with his patron goddess, Lurue the Unicorn Queen, was growing ever more difficult. Just to see if he could, he mentally probed for the connection that used to form as easily as shafts of sunlight find the forest floor…
Marrec nearly stumbled for lack of concentrating on the uneven path.
"Watch your step," grunted Gunggari. "The stones will catch your feet if you let them." The Oslander pointed ahead, where the path ascended quickly to the crown of a hill. The west flank of the hill was hidden in crowding pines and firs that cast long shadows over the rocky way. Gunggari gave him a sidelong glance, "Are you tired? We could stop for a rest, if you like, or-is something else bothering you?"
Marrec sighted. "Lurue's silences have grown, Gunny. Last night, I almost felt as if she were absent completely. When it came time for my nightly prayer of renewal…"
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That ever happened before?" quizzed Gunggari.
"No, at least not so completely. My connection has been deteriorating these last few years, like I said before, but this is the worst it's been."
"And… your vision?"
The Oslander referred to a dreamlike visitation Marrec had received several months earlier.
Gunggari continued, "Are we close enough that you can go without guidance?"
Marrec answered, "We're