Mistress of the Night - Don Bassingthwaite [3]
Dhauna turned to see the young priestess hurrying across the grass. She smiled and shook the water of the pool from her hand.
"Nothing's wrong, Julith," she lied. "I'm fine."
Two Sisters
From the shadows of chaos, two sisters are born, One bright Selune, the other dark Shar. A harmonious balance soon to be torn When Selune gifts life with flame from afar!
At the dawn of the world, two sisters contest Over dark, over light, over life, over death. Shar seeks the void and with shadows coalesced Snuffs Selune's bright lights and with them her breath!
In the twilight of battle, one sister falters, But Selune hurls magic in desperate power. From two sisters, one child the balance alters- Mystryl's aid to Selune ends Shar's dark hour!
Selune, Moonmaiden-Shar, Mistress of Night, Two sisters divided by one sister's spite.
–composed by Veseene the Lark Presented to Dhauna Myritar of Moonshadow Hall in the Year of the Turret (1360 DR)
CHAPTER 1
Month of Eleasias, the Year of Rogue
Dragons (1373 DR)
The little clearing beside the road to Ordulin just outside of Yhaunn was quiet except for the sluggish gurgle of a summer-warmed stream. All was still'but for the slow dance of leaves stirred by an evening breeze. Quiet. Still. Peaceful. Even so, the wolf that squatted in the twilight shadows at the edge of the clearing waited a few minutes more-a lesson of caution learned the hard way-before stepping out into the open. Between its jaws, it clenched the loop of a strap that bound a tight bundle of rags. The animal dropped the. bundle beside the stream, then sat back and with a silvery jingling of the chain collar that circled its neck, shook itself.
With every shake, the wolfs russet pelt grew shorter, except at its head where a mane of red hair billowed free. Canine features flattened and smoothed as limbs grew long-and human. The change took only moments.
Feena rose up on two feet, naked except for the chain she wore. Out of reflex, she put a hand to her throat checking to see that the medallion hanging from the chain had survived her journey. It had, of course. Battered and scratched, the disk of silver that bore Selune's symbol of bright eyes and seven stars seemed able to survive anything even a werewolf could throw at it.
She hoped it would survive what she was going to face in Yhaunn.
"It's been a busy month, High Moonmistress," she said, rehearsing the excuse one more time as she reached for her bundle. "I couldn't come any sooner. Two of the village women were pregnant, then one had a difficult birth and the baby was sickly-I had to watch over him, Mother Dhauna."
The strap around the bundle had slipped tight. She picked at it in frustration until it opened and her clothes spilled out onto the ground: light sandals, a simple blue skirt of homespun wool, and a blouse of linen dyed yellow with yarrow. Feena shook the dirt out of the skirt and pulled it on.
"What was wrong with him? A twisted leg, Mother Dhauna-and jaundiced, too, the poor little thing!" She bit a corner of her lip as she cinched the drawstring of the skirt tight around her waist. Was the excuse too much? "Maybe just the twisted leg," she muttered.
"There's nothing twisted about your legs, missus, not from where I'm standing!"
Feena snatched up her blouse and spun around. At the edge of the clearing, two men emerged from the trees. One carried a short sword, the other a heavy club. Neither looked particularly honest. Both wore unpleasant leers.
"See, Stag, I told you I heard a jingling like silver! I'm never wrong about that!" said the man with the club.
He pointed his weapon at her-specifically at her chain and medallion. Feena twitched her blouse up to cover both the medallion and herself.
"Oh, now don't do that, missus," Stag said as he slid forward. The other man circled to her far side. "Drik and I were just enjoying the scenery. Pretty clearing this, isn't it? Favorite stop for travelers. Not sure why you'd want to take your clothes off, but I'm not complaining.''
Feena cursed herself. The