Lady of Poison_ The Priests - Bruce R. Cordell [9]
Once Marrec and Emmon stayed out overnight on a dare. They set out, pockets bulging with hard rolls. Marrec had even thought to bring a waterskin filled from the well. Had the rain stayed away, their short overnight trip would have gone unremembered, but the rain did come that night, and with it a drop in temperature so extreme that the two boys were forced to seek shelter. They found a small cave, as had a mountain bear who was not eager to share.
The bear swiped Emmon across the shoulder, adding a flow of blood to the rain's deluge. The attack's brutality tumbled Marrec back out into the rain with his step-brother. Emmon lay moaning off to the side, while Marrec lay sprawled not more than a few feet from the cave. His hands scrabbled across the rain-slick forest floor. As the bear emerged from the cave-mouth to finish off the two intruders, one of Marrec's hands closed about a thick wooden shaft. Knowledge flashed into his head-he knew what he had to do to survive the next two seconds. As the bear lunged, he pulled the broken tree branch up, aiming the pointed end at the descending bear, allowing the other end to remain butted into the earth. The bear plunged onto the shaft, sorely wounding itself.
After it ran off roaring through the rain, Marrec crouched over Emmon. The rain turned his black hair into a sodden mass that drained rivulets of water into Marrec's face, but his hands were steady as he ripped strips of cloth from his own tunic and bandaged them around Emmon's shoulder to stem the oozing blood. Marrec's eyes burned like coals, but at that time he assumed it was pent up frustration…
Marrec saved Emmon, and both survived the punishments given them by their parents for their foolishness. When Marrec reached his sixteenth year, he took a commission with the village militia, such as it was. Though his adopted father would have preferred Marrec enter the family business, he was supportive of his son's decision. After all, Marrec was something of a natural when it came to the arts of the warrior. Though far less suited, Emmon followed Marrec's example.
CHAPTER 4
The crash of metal and a gurgling roar startled Marrec from reverie. He hadn't gone more than a mile since leaving Fullpoint behind. Thrusting aside the forest growth without further regard for stealth, Marrec rushed forward several dozen feet. His dash ended as he broke out of the trees into a shaded glade.
He arrived in time to witness Gunggari slam his warclub into a rot fiend's head. The blighted creature was one of half a dozen more pustule-ridden forest folk assembled in the glade in various postures, all inimical, though a few lay unmoving near Gunggari. Glad though he was to see his friend, his eyes darted past the Oslander. Standing plain as day was a massive lion-like beast whose skin was so encrusted with fungus that it seemed a shade of green. Marrec estimated that the lion stood six feet tall at the shoulder. The beast screamed, giving voice to the same shattering roar that Marrec had first heard. It was rooting after something caught in the bole of a large tree.
"By the Circle of Leth, you shall not have her!" called out a female voice.
A woman in warrior's garb dropped into view from above the dire beast, swinging a leaf-shaped blade. She had been hiding in the tree. Her fall was purposeful; she struck the fungal lion a nasty blow with her blade as she fell past. Her precipitous