an ideal target of terrorism and piracy. The raiders were a tribe of brutish, manlike ogres who called themselves the Durang, after their leader. Not interested in concessions, the Durang launched a career of attacks on the town. At first just outlying farms were hit, but it was clear that the Durang were intent on striking to the very heart of the village, and soon.
So it was time for the militia to do the job it had trained for. Defend the village. Marrec looked forward to the coming encounter with a strange, tight feeling in his stomach. He looked forward to being tested in actual battle, yet he was nervous. He didn’t let that show to his comrades, who were all outwardly afraid. Emmon put on a brave face, but Marrec knew his brother well enough to know that on the inside, Emmon was just this side of fleeing for all he was worth.
The crash on the hastily-constructed palisade wall signaled that the time for wondering was past. It was time to fight.
Another crash, and the Durang were through. Some of his fellow militiamen were stunned, thinking that the barrier should have lasted longer. No time for that. Yellow-skinned brutes with thick, warty skin boiled in through the breach. Marrec was among the few brave enough to meet the initial onslaught. He had chosen a spear, which he judged he could use more profitably against the eight-foot-tall Durang. Plus, ever since the incident with bear in the woods, Marrec simply preferred the spear.
A particularly ill-kempt brute with greasy hair charged him, brandishing a great club of splintered wood. Marrec felt fear melt away before the immediacy of his predicament. Fear would only get in the way of the actions he must take in order to survive.
He ducked under the monster’s first swing, jumped up instantly and drove his spear into the Durang’s temple. Just like that, the creature was vanquished. Marrec yelled in jubilation, wrenching his spear free from the carcass.
“Who’s next? he wondered.
Things weren’t going nearly so well for the rest of the militiamen. Even one Durang was a match for two or three humans, and there were at least eight ogres by Marrec’s count. Over to his left, the drillmaster Rimmard stood his ground well enough, but everywhere else the Durang encroached. Not a single militiaman was uninjured, except for himself and maybe Rimmard.
His eyes found Emmon. His half-brother lay twisted, unmoving, his broken sword several feet from his splayed grip. “Emmon?” Marrec rushed to the body of his stepbrother.
Emmon was dead.
Rage took Marrec. The boy felt his own humanity splinter and fall away, as if it were snake skin. His eyes had started burning the moment the attack began. Seeing his dead brother, it felt as if the very orbs were afire. Marrec screamed, clutching his head with both hands. His head felt molten, and his eyes brimmed with the blaze inside.
Why not let the anger out? something whispered. Why not?
Marrec allowed his hands to fall away from his head. Despite the pain, his gaze was infused with a deadly clarity. As if burrowing a channel in the air with his gaze, he unleashed the fury within at the ogre nearest the fallen body of Emmon, but the ogre was not burned.
It was turned to stone.
A great hush extended from the first unmoving ogre, growing in radius like a rock dimples a pond, ever- widening as defenders and ogres alike paused to see what had occurred. A long sigh was heard, or maybe it was a collective gasp of fear from villagers and attackers, as startled eyes alighted on Marrec then flinched quickly away.
Then the remaining raiders were running, running from his invincible gaze. He cared not. He was in a swoon of anger and loss.
Emmon still lay dead at Marrec’s feet. His gaze was spent, and the fury subsided to a dull ache deep within his head. All was silent. Villager gazes continued to scatter away from him like water on a hot skillet, afraid to commit. A murmur of astonishment grew, but more than just astonishment, there was also fear. Fear of him. The freak. The monster.
So he was. The bitter truth was apparent to all. The townspeople wanted nothing more to do with him, despite his victory over the Durang. His blood was tainted with an unknown but likely devilish power, he was told. He was outcast, even by his own family.
So it was that Marrec fled into the Wild.
CHAPTER 5
Yhey sought the city of Two Stars, Elowen in the lead, the rest following after.
Marrec tried to carry Ash piggy-back, but she seemed more comfortable walking, so their pace in the lightly forested country was measured to the pace of a young child. Marrec knew that would have to change, but he was willing to allow the child her head for the moment. Perhaps later they could purchase a small horse or pony for the girl to ride upon.
Elowen was familiar with the country and could get them back on the road called the Golden Way without backtracking along the path Marrec and Gunggari had used to reach Fullpoint. Marrec knew little of the land, but he was learning more with each day. He did know that the city of Two Stars girdled the Golden Way and was an important city in the land of
Thesk, which was the ungainly name of that far land where Marrec found himself.
Marrec reflected back on his journey since he’d reached the eastern shore of the Sea of Fallen Stars. He and Gunggari had first disembarked in the city of Telflamm after their passage east across the Sea. Telf lamm was the founding city of the Golden Way. For thousands of miles the great trade road wended eastward, eventually joining Faeriin to the fabulous lands of Kara-Tur, Marrec was assured. Along the road lay the merchant towns that comprised the realm of Thesk, the crossroads of the Unapproachable East. All that was revealed to Marrec upon landfall, but he wasn’t sure he believed much of what was told him in the thief-ruled city of Telflamm. At the time, he just wanted to find Fullpoint, though he did recall seeing a map showing Two Stars situated not much farther along the great trade road.
While on the great trade road, they’d passed through countless smaller villages, and three larger cities, Phent, Phsant, and Tammar. The towns of Phent and Tammar had offered no trouble, but in Phsant their ignorance of local custom had caused a few problems. SomehowMarrec wasn’t sure exactly howGunggari had earned the displeasure’ of someone called the Golden Master. Marrec didn’t really worry about it until they discovered hundreds of soldiers loyal to the Golden Master mustered against them as they attempted to exit the city from the strangely named Shou quarter. They’d barely escaped. One thing was surehe and Gunggari wouldn’t be going back through Phsant if they could help it.
Marrec hoped Two Stars wasn’t all that far from Fullpoint. Surely it would be a quick journey, at least after he made some sort of arrangement for Ash’s transportation.
Perhaps he should consult with their guide.
“Elowen?” called Marrec from the rear. He was making certain that Ash walked ahead of him, never allowing the girl out of his sight. “How far to Two Stars did you say?”
Elowen paused in her conversation with Gunggari, looking back. Marrec was glad to see those two seemed to be getting along. “No more than a couple of days, Marrec; it’s about sixty miles. Not to worry. This foliage gives way to grassland soon enough. If we were traveling through a real forest, like the Lethyr or Rawlinswood, you’d know it.”
Marrec nodded, satisfied.
Elowen walked, excited at her chance meeting in the wood. Her senses were attuned to the wildlife of leaf and bough, but more than others of her order, she enjoyed conversation. Sadly, the creatures and plants in her care were mostly unskilled in that area. These strangers had many stories to tell and offered the chance for conversations many and long.
More importantly, the strangers were concerned with the troubles of the wood, just like her. They seemed specifically concerned about the troubles caused by these rot-touched volodnis, as was she. She feared that where
