Lady of Poison_ The Priests - Bruce R. Cordell [49]
"I and my circle will provide support and aid in this venture," said the Nentyarch. "With you will go Elowen, my chief hunter in this matter. Also, Fallon, Anom, and Cirid, all of whom have accomplished deeds of renown without peer."
The three so named, Fallon, Anom, and Cirid, stepped forward. Fallon's habitual frown disappeared in the wake of the Nentyarch's praise. Anom was an elf man dressed all in brown cloth, carrying a staff of dark wood. Cirid, a female human, wore a gown of dark green. Oddly enough, it seemed to Marrec, a great sword in a white sheath was girt at her waist.
"I cannot spare more hunters; the Rotting Man's forces are on the move. Even now, the heart of the Forest of Lethyr is in peril. The Talontyr's reach has grown long indeed. I'll not allow two forests fall to his influence. The Lethyr must not be corrupted."
Marrec nodded.
"But I can spare advice and a route whereby you might sneak into the center of Dun-Tharos itself unseen. In my time there, I learned something of the hidden dungeons beneath the forest. They are dangerous, but better than going openly abroad through territory completely in the Talontyr's hands."
Again the Nentyarch motioned to another of the assembled hunters. That one brought forth a white scroll, newly scribed, and handed it to Elowen.
The Nentyarch explained, "I've marked an entrance to the upperdark passages that extend for miles beneath the Rawlinswood, unknown to most. These forgotten passageways below the forest eventually connect to buried Dun-Tharos itself. From there, you can gain entry to the Rotting Man's center of power by coming up from below. Follow the path marked on the scroll, and you may have a chance."
Elowen unrolled the scroll and studied the map inked upon it. She asked, "Haven't you always warned us away from these buried Nar ruins? Wouldn't we fare better taking an overland route?"
The Nentyarch did something Marrec thought was out of character for such an esteemed and elder elf; he shrugged, saying, "Better to sneak past the slumbering evil of toppled empires than attempt to penetrate the watchful guard of a vigilant malevolence. I call the Rotting Man the Talontyr because his power has waxed with an influx of divine energy sent by his goddess, Talona. All who penetrate too deeply into the Rawlinswood are known to him. The heart of that forest is truly corrupted, and its trees owe their allegiance to him, and me no longer. As his power grows, mine wanes."
Without further comment, Elowen stowed the map.
"We appreciate the help you can offer. With the map, and with the aid of your hunters, we will pierce the Rotting Man's guard and reunite Ash with her greater self."
"I have not finished with my gifts," said the Lord of Yeshelmaar, who came perilously close to a grin. He clapped.
A few of those Marrec had taken for simple Dalesfolk petitioners in the rear of the hall came forward. Each carried a chest, a garment, or some other oddment.
The first walked to stand next to the Nentyarch, who said, "Marrec, your coming was hot unlooked for; our dream auguries and moon guides pointed to your arrival, or at least the arrival of someone like you in service to Lurue. That you would come with hope for finding and reviving the Child of Light is more even than we could perceive or hope for. In any event, we have prepared suitable gifts for the one we hoped would come. These gifts will help you in what lies ahead."
The first of the Dalesfolk produced a pair of matched gauntlets. The gauntlets were quite thin and sewn of smooth grain deerskin and lined with white linen. Emerald threads picked out the design of an oak leaf in the palm of each hand.
The Nentyarch said, "Marrec, please accept these enchanted gloves. While you wear