From: news@pixel.kodak.com
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp.archives
Subject: STORY: The Towers, part14
Followup-To: rec.games.frp.dnd
Date: 9 Sep 1992 10:15:31 -0400
Organization: Eastman Kodak Company; Rochester, NY
Distribution: world
NNTP-Posting-Host: rodan.uu.net
Summary: Ch14:  Poison
Keywords: STORY GreyEagle Towers

       Copyright 1992  Charles Tryon

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            T H E   T O W E R S

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  Where we left off...

      The party has once again hit the road, this time in the company
      of a merchant caravan headed south.  The caravan has a regular
      contingent of soldiers, and while the fighters in the group are
      immediately accepted, GreyEagle is regarded as a bit of an
      oddity, being a female.  She finds that she is excluded, and
      expected to keep with the other women, "where she belongs."  She
      finds friendship with one of the women of the caravan, and bides
      her time until she finds an opportunity to show that she too can
      hold her own in battle.

      Once she has been given a chance to show her mettle in a contest,
      things seem to be going smoothly...


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14:  Poison

   GreyEagle awoke in the middle of the night to the howls of an attack.
It sounded like goblins, but there were other sounds mixed in.  Wolves,
she suddenly thought as she recognized the snarls -- there are wolves with
them.  Her skin crept as she fumbled in the darkness for her sword.
Already she could hear the cries of the defenders, with Coyle's strong
voice barking commands above the others.  There was a sharp rap at the
door of the wagon as GreyEagle found her sword, and she pulled it out of
its scabbard just enough to let out a thin beam of light.  With that
light, she jumped to the door and threw it open with her shoulder.
   The camp was in a state of confusion in the semi-darkness.  All around
she could see the twisting yellow forms of the goblins, armed with maces,
stone axes and knives.  Most of the soldiers were already awake and
fighting as she leapt to the ground, thankful that she had left on her
leather armor for the night.  She drew her sword, and its magic surged
through her once again as its light flung the darkness aside.
   At the same instant, her blood froze at the sound of a screaming cry
off behind her.  She spun around to see the diving form of Horton as the
dragon fell upon the creatures, throwing them in all directions.  She ran
to join in the attack.
   Between the sight if the dragon on one side, and the brilliance of
GreyEagle's sword on the other, the screams of glee coming from the
goblins quickly turned to those of terror.  Thrown into confusion, they
began to flee back into the darkness where they had come from, many
dropping their weapons in their haste.  Sucaba and Horton were not about
to let them escape, and gave chase, cutting down goblins and wolves like
so many blades of grass.  The other soldiers followed after, cleaning up
the few who managed to escape the fury of the dragon and mage ahead of
them.
   GreyEagle began to follow, but she caught sight of another figure out
of the corner of her eye.  It was Recuahc.  He was still in the midst of a
battle with one of the goblins, and the bodies of several others lay
sprawled around his and Coyle's feet, but he was holding his side as if he
had been injured.  GreyEagle gave one last glance in the direction of the
fleeing goblins, decided that they would be adequately taken care of by
their pursuers, and turned to help Recuahc.
   By the time she reached the two, Recuahc had already finished off the
goblin, but he was breathing hard and doubled over in pain.
   "Help me get him over to the fire," Coyle called to her.  The two of
them put their arms around Recuahc and helped him over to the now brightly
burning watch fire where some of the soldiers had already brought another
fallen man.  A couple of the women appeared with water and bandages to
dress the wounds.  Marianne quickly arrived, still wrapping a shawl around
her shoulders, and shooed the others away from Recuahc.  With an amazing
gentleness and efficiency, she bent over Recuahc as he sat on the ground
and helped him get his tunic off.  He was in a good deal of pain, and bit
his lip to keep from crying out.  GreyEagle drew her breath in sharply at
what she saw.  Running clear from his shoulder to the middle of his chest
has a long white scar.  So, this young man was no stranger to swords and
pain and blood, she thought.  There was more hidden behind that smiling
face than she had first imagined.
   She looked to see the wound that Recuahc had just suffered -- a ragged
gash to his side.  It didn't look that serious to be causing him so much
pain, but already the color was draining from his face and his breathing
was shallow and labored.
   One of the young women rushed up to Marianne as she bent over Recuahc,
examining the wound.  The girl's eyes were wide and her face stretched
with fear.  She looked like she desperately wanted to say something, but
couldn't gather the strength to say it. "Kettrick is already dead," said
Marianne flatly as she looked at her.  The girl nodded, and then collapsed
into a heap on the ground, silent sobs wracking her small frame. "Poison,"
said Marianne as she looked grimly at Coyle and then back at Recuahc who
had already slumped to the ground. "I'll do the best I can," she said,
swiftly picking through the assortment of herbs which were placed beside
her.  Their aroma filled the night air as she carefully crushed a few
selected leaves into a small cup of water.  She dipped a bandage into the
mixture and cleaned and dressed the wound.  GreyEagle watched intently as
Recuahc moaned weakly.  In a while, the herbs seemed to take effect and
the color slowly began to return to Recuahc's face, and his breathing
started to relax.  His eyes were already half closed as he muttered a weak
thank you, and slid into a deep sleep. "I will bring him to my wagon for
the night to keep an eye on him," Marianne informed the others.  She
called over a couple of the men and they gently carried Recuahc's sleeping
form back to the wagon.
   GreyEagle was uncomfortable, and it dawned on her that her shoulder was
aching as she thought about Recuahc and the poison.  It brought back the
memory of the wound she had suffered from the black knife when she had
rescued her brother years ago.  It had been no ordinary gash, and had
taken a long time to heal.  At times like this, when her thoughts were
troubled, it still bothered her.
   Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of Ormec's grumbling.  He
had grabbed his shield and battle axe, but had apparently arrived to late
to participate in any of the fighting.  His eyes were a bit red, even in
the light of the watch fire, and GreyEagle wondered if he'd had a bit too
much to drink the night before.  He sat down next to the fire, mumbling to
himself in obvious disappointment.
   "Don't be so eager to rush into battle Ormec," GreyEagle said with a
concerned look. "Poisoned weapons are no small threat, no matter how small
the foe who wields them.  We will have opportunity enough to earn our keep
here."
   Ormec's face began to grow red. "You may have beaten me at practice but
I am still skilled enough to deal with puny goblins, poison or no," he
shouted. "I am not about to sit back and let young boys like Recuahc die
to secure my safety!"  He rose roughly to his feet and stomped off in a
huff.
   "That's not what I mean!"  GreyEagle started to sputter as he stormed
off, but he was not listening to her.  She considered following after him,
but she knew that she'd get nowhere with him as long as he was in a
temper.  She'd have to deal with Ormec later she thought with a sigh. "I
still wish we had a real healer with us, or at least some potions of
healing," she mumbled.
   She turned away from the fire and saw Conrad checking over the bodies
of the goblins, making sure that none were still alive, waiting to spring
on the unsuspecting.  The soldiers were moving the bodies to a heap to be
burned rather than taking the trouble of burying them.  Coyle was
examining the captured weapons when GreyEagle found him again. "Poisoned,
all right," he said, spitting his disgust. "Most of them anyway.  No doubt
the slime hoped to hit and run, wounding as many as possible, and letting
the poison get them.  They would try to whittle us down a little at a
time.  No grand military strategy, but effective."  He shook his head
slowly. "I'm glad we had no more casualties.  Any word on your friend
Recuahc?"
   GreyEagle shrugged. "Marianne seems to have him under control." She
didn't know what else to say.  With the death of the other soldier, she
knew the potency of the poison, and the speed with which it worked.  Yet,
she had also seen Marianne's skill in dealing with the poison.  The fact
that Recuahc had survived this long seemed to bode well that he was past
the worst of the danger, but how long he would take to recover fully, or
what long term effects there might be, was still very much an open
question.
   Sucaba and Horton returned after an hour or so to report that there
were now no goblins in at least a five mile radius.  The eyes of both
Sucaba and the dragon seemed to glow, and the dragon was still licking his
lips.  GreyEagle shuddered.  The soldiers dug a pit to bury all the
goblins weapons so that there would be no danger of someone accidentally
getting cut by one.
   Once the camp was cleaned up and set in order again, people began to go
back to bed, but GreyEagle didn't feel like sleeping.  She sat for a while
at the edge of the watch fire and gazed into the embers.  Beyond the fire,
the night was now quiet again, disturbed only by the hushed whispers of
the watchmen as they cautiously made their rounds.  This kind of attack
was to be expected out in the wilderness, not this close to town, and they
were restless now.
   She kept thinking of Recuahc and the poison.  She had seen plenty of
wounds in battle, but the poison made her uneasy.  Marianne had sent the
other girls in the wagon off to find other beds so that she could attend
to Recuahc in peace.  Though she had not explicitly told GreyEagle that
she could not sleep there, she felt uncomfortable going back to the
wagon.  She sat for a while with her eyes closed, listening to the sounds
of the night, drawing in its peace and quiet.  The night wind had taken on
a bit of a chill and she edged closer to the fire and its warmth.  Her
shoulder was dully throbbing now, and she tried to move it around a bit to
work out the stiffness.  The chill was probably not helping it any, she
thought.  She glanced over again at the wagon where Marianne had taken
Recuahc.  She envied Marianne's skill with herbs and healing, and wondered
how much Marianne might be able to teach her while they were traveling
together.  Probably not enough, she thought with a sigh.  The time we have
is too short.  I'd know just enough to be dangerous.
   Time.  It was always slipping past her.  The time she'd had with
Schimray had been so short, and her eyes began to sting when she thought
about how long it would be before she would see him again, and the dangers
which both of them would have to pass through.  Life was so fragile.  A
little poisoned dagger in the hands of a goblin, and it could all be over,
like a candle flame puffed out by a night breeze.
   The memory of a face staring blankly up at the stars came back to her
and she covered her face to try to block it out.  For her, the face stood
for the faces of all the innocent ones, those who had no interest in gold
and treasure -- they just wanted to live their lives and raise their young
ones in peace -- those who had been caught and destroyed by the Evil Ones
all around them.  Somewhere out there in a dark tower lurked a Demon
grasping for power.  Once it reached that power, there would be so many
more faces.  She had already seen some of them at the previous tower.  One
had been a child with its throat slit.  Another had been a little child
trying to wake a man from his sleep of death.  The tears flowed silently
now.  She could not turn back.  She did not know if she could face the
Demon and survive, but she knew she would face him soon.  Time was
slipping away too quickly.
   She rose quietly and slipped from the edge of the fire, walking to the
wagon where Recuahc was.  She knocked quietly on the door and Marianne's
voice answered.
   Inside the wagon, a single candle burned, its small flame almost going
out as a puff of wind came in through the door with GreyEagle as she
entered.  She quickly closed the door behind her and sat on the bed
opposite from Recuahc.
   "I wondered how long you would be before you came back," Marianne said
with a soft smile. "I knew you would not be long." GreyEagle blushed
slightly.  Were her motives that transparent? "You carry a sword and
shield young GreyEagle, yet there is healing in your heart.  It is in the
sound of your voice and the touch of your hands.  Guard that quality
well.  It is easily smothered by other concerns."
   GreyEagle was not sure she understood, but she nodded her head.
   "He is doing well," Marianne answered GreyEagle's unspoken question as
she saw her looking at Recuahc. "Death was banging at his door, but there
is a hidden strength in the young man."  She reached over to soak another
bandage in the mixture of herbs and medicines which stood on a small table
bear the bed, and applied them afresh to Recuahc's wound.  He groaned
slightly in his sleep, but didn't awaken.  GreyEagle leaned back on the
bed and thought of Recuahc's silly stories and music, and of his apparent
innocence.  What else lurks behind that mask of foolishness and mirth, she
asked herself.
   She woke with the sun and realized that she had fallen to sleep without
even knowing it.  She started to apologize to Marianne for being more of a
burden than a help, but Marianne would hear nothing of it. "Where would we
be now had it not been for your sword?  I saw it's fire last night.  You
hide as much behind that pretty face of yours as does this young man
here.  Make no excuses for your behavior.  Now off with you.  I must stay
here with your young friend, but I'm sure you need some breakfast, and
there is plenty of work to be done.  These folk won't let a few injuries
stop them," she said with a grin.
   GreyEagle rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she stumbled out the door
of the wagon.  The sun was not yet fully above the horizon, but it was
evident that most of the caravan people had been up for quite a while.  It
irked GreyEagle that Marianne had let her sleep for so long, but there was
nothing to be done about it now.  Those responsible for breakfast were
nearly finished with cleaning up, but GreyEagle was able to scrounge up
enough to satisfy her early morning hunger.  With a small loaf of bread
still in her hand, she went to search for the others.
   She met Trouble walking down the road from town with a smug grin on his
face and GreyEagle guessed that he'd had suitable companionship for the
night.  His grin quickly turned to a look of chagrin however as he
realized that he had missed a battle.  He was eager to hear the details of
what had happened from all those involved, and threw up his hands in
disgust upon hearing that the soldiers had already buried the poisoned
weapons.
   "Trouble," teased Conrad when he saw the mage, "I thought we were being
paid to escort this caravan and protect the merchants.  Don't you think
that you'd be doing a better job protecting them by being here, rather
than in some featherbed off in town?"  Trouble gave him a dirty look, but
refused to dignify the taunt with a response.
   There was a subdued hush over the camp that morning, but with the
coming of the sun and the bright glow which it cast over the wagons,
spirits began to lift.  Sucaba was eager to get moving, and fidgeted atop
Horton's back, his things already packed to leave.  As soon as the wagons
were packed up again, the captain gave the order for everyone to mount up,
and once again the caravan slowly pulled itself back up onto the road.
   They had not traveled long before the StarWater River came into view.
As Sucaba was anxious to do some fishing, the captain called for a halt on
the banks of the river.  He announced that the caravan would rest there
for about four hours or so, allowing people time to recover from the
horror of the night before.
   GreyEagle found Marianne's wagon as they pulled to a stop.  Marianne
was climbing down as she arrived. "Your friend seems to have recovered
well and is awake again, though he is still weak.  He will recover in
time, though he will need rest.  I will bring him out to sit by the bank
of the river.  The fresh air will do him good."
   GreyEagle hesitated for a moment.  She wanted to go in and talk with
Recuahc, but Sucaba was impatiently calling for anyone who was interested
in fishing.  Well, she thought, I'll talk to him a little later when
Marianne brings him out.
   Sucaba was indeed an expert at the sport of fishing, and displayed a
rare exuberance as he explained how to deal with the confusion of hooks
and bait and line.  GreyEagle poked her fingers a good number of times
before she finally managed to get everything set just right to Sucaba's
satisfaction.  He pointed out a number of spots along the river where he
thought the fishing would be best.
   Just as she finally got herself set in a comfortable little patch of
grass along side a small still pool in the river, GreyEagle saw Marianne
coming down towards the bank with Recuahc.  She quickly got up to help
Marianne, dropping her line on the ground where she had been sitting.
Sucaba, seeing her get up, started to protest, but at that instant,
someone else called out to him with a question.  Sucaba just threw up his
hands in disgust, and turned to answer the question.  Marianne helped
Recuahc to a comfortable spot not too close to the edge of the river.
Placing a bed roll behind his back she sternly told him that he was to
relax and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine, but that he was not allowed to
move from that spot without her help.
   Trouble wandered over just as Recuahc was getting himself settled.
"Well, my young man," he said with a sly grin, "congratulations on
managing to work your way into the women's wagon."
   "Dirty job, but somebody has to do it," replied Recuahc with an
innocent look. "Besides," he said, with a weak laugh, "if you'd have been
here, maybe you could have gone in there with me."  He looked around to
see if he could spot the others. "Hey, where's my little buddy Conrad?  Is
everybody else OK?"
   "Yes, it seems that you did a pretty good job scaring the goblins off
with your dazzling swordplay," GreyEagle teased.  Recuahc looked like he
was about to say something in reply, but he was still groggy from the
effects of Marianne's herbs, and slid back into sleep.
   The hours passed pleasantly as the sun crept higher in the sky.
GreyEagle took frequent breaks to check on Recuahc, but soon found that he
had attracted a number of the younger girls who waited on him hand and
foot.  He protested weakly, but GreyEagle didn't think he looked like he
really objected to all the attention.  As lunch was served, he was joined
by Marianne and a couple of other girls who made sure he lacked nothing.
GreyEagle raised an eyebrow at all of his "nurses".  "You seem to be well
cared for, my friend," she teased him. "So, how long do you plan on being
sick?  Methinks you might never recover, what with such wonderful care."
Recuahc only grinned.
   Afterwards, Marianne collected Recuahc to bring him back to the wagon
where she had been taking care of him.  She asked for a couple of the
girls to help her keep an eye on Recuahc so that she could get some rest,
and was besieged by a host of volunteers.  She selected two of the older
girls and headed back to wagon as the caravan prepared to get under way
again.  Trouble gave Recuahc another wink and a nod as he headed towards
his horse and Recuahc laughed wearily and smiled in return.
   They traveled for the rest of the day and on into the evening without
further incident, going a little longer than usual in order to make up for
lost time.  It was clear however, that the break had been time well spent
as everyone seemed to be in better spirits.  Dinner was quickly prepared,
including a couple of fish dishes courtesy of Sucaba.
   For Recuahc, dinner was a repeat of lunch, with several girls fussing
over him despite the disapproving looks from the older women.  GreyEagle
was a little disgusted at all the attention that Recuahc was getting from
the young girls, but she bit her tongue.  When it came time for them to
retire, the older women insisted that the girls bunk elsewhere for the
night, and GreyEagle hid a snicker as their protests were firmly glared
down, and they quickly collected their things from the wagon and headed
off to find other bunks for the night.
   Marianne was not so easily put off. "Well," she said, looking squarely
at the women, her hands on her hips, "I still have my responsibilities,
and I would be glad for GreyEagle's company."
   One of the older women sniffed at her. "Well, it's all right for you.
You've already made your bed."  With that, the woman turned on her heels
and walked off with her nose in the air, with the others quickly
following.  Marianne opened her mouth to reply, but then she shrugged and
turned to help Recuahc to the wagon.  GreyEagle gave her a quizzical
look.  She was confused by the women's remark, but it was clear that they
had a rather low regard for Marianne.  GreyEagle couldn't understand how
they could expect Marianne, as a healer, to ignore the needs of a sick
man.  She shrugged and followed Marianne into the wagon, making a mental
note to ask her about the comment later.
   Inside, Marianne had already helped Recuahc into one of the beds and
was lighting a candle.  Recuahc was settling down in the bed and GreyEagle
bent over him to help him get his boots off.  He paused for a moment,
looking a little uncomfortable. "Thanks again for all of your attention,"
he said at last. "I hope that I prove worthy of all this fuss and bother."
   "Have no fear, Recuahc," GreyEagle said as she gently pushed him to lie
down. "We each will have our turn to serve, and be served.  Now it is your
turn to rest.  I have no doubt that you will have the opportunity to
return the favor some time in the future.  It is no accident that we are
all here together."
   Recuahc smiled weakly. "It would be an honor to be able to serve you
and return your favor.  However," he continued, "you sounds as though you
believe in the all-knowing hand of fate.  I, for one, cannot dismiss the
acts of others as a pre-disposed, unavoidable state.  We must all be
accountable for ourselves.  No, you are not here now because some other
means for you to be.  You are here out of your own goodness." Recuahc
smiled again. "Unless of course, you mean that we are all `here' in a less
broad sense of the word.  Then, I fear I am on a soapbox making a fool of
myself."  Recuahc sighed deeply. "Possibly I am more tired than I
believe."  His eyes were heavy and already beginning to close. "Perhaps we
can discuss this when I am feeling a little more clear in my head.  I do
tend to babble a bit I'm afraid."  With that, Recuahc closed his eyes and
seemed to fall asleep.
   "You are right," GreyEagle said softly as she sat back a bit, not
knowing if Recuahc was even awake to hear her. "Fate does not blindly lead
us down a path of its own choosing, but it does shape the paths we have to
choose from.  You flatter me too much I think.  I am no hero -- I merely
do what needs to be done."  After a long pause, she rose and tucked in the
blanket. "Sleep now young philosopher, and we will see what tomorrow lays
in our path."




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    Next:  The Parades Pride


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  As always, comments are welcome.  Back chapters are available by Email
  request to one of the addresses below.  PLEASE specify if you do not
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--
Chuck Tryon
    work: bilbo@bisco.kodak.com                          B. Baggins
    home: bilbo@Bah.Rochester.NY.US                      At Your Service
 ______________________________________________________________________
   Experience is what you get when you were expecting something else.