Month: January 2025

Dree put the flask and ointment back in her pouch, and put the cloth in another one. Then, she produced a jar of water to wash her hands.

Pulling the sheet over Father’s sleeping form, she retreated from the bedroom, ducking again in the low doorway, and taking the curtain from Annette’s unresponsive fingers to close it. She went to the front door and said some things quietly to Usen, who nodded and left. Finally, she went to the table in the middle of the room, pulled Annette’s stool from under it, and sat down.

“How long since he was wounded?” she asked.

“A month.” Mother turned away and busied herself at the hearth, glancing at the baby in the corner. As usual, he had arranged some sticks and wood chips into a battle scene, and was softly babbling to them about what they were doing. Mother rubbed her hands distractedly on her apron, and smoothed an errant hair.

“He’s a strong man,” Dree said. “The infection would have killed a weaker before now.”

Lisa wasn’t sure, but she thought Mother smiled briefly at this compliment.

“The medicine I used will help, but the wound was untreated for a long time,” Dree continued. “I don’t know if he’ll ever walk without a limp unless we can get him some better healing.”

“You’ve already done so much, my lady,” Mother said. Lisa saw her glance at the gold coins, still sitting on the table. They were not enough to pay for a healing spell, but they would help in so many other ways.

Dree smiled calmly, and opened one of the pouches that lined her belt. Somehow, she pulled a toy sheep, bigger than the pouch, out of the mouth of the pouch. The sheep was stuffed and soft, and may have been compressed somewhat, but Lisa still stared with her mouth open.

Annette didn’t hesitate, but ran over to Dree with her arms held out. “What’s his name?” she asked excitedly. Baby Joachim turned to see what the fuss was, and jumped to his feet to fight his sister for the toy.

Dree held the sheep just out of reach of Annette’s jumping, and pulled a second sheep out of the pouch with her other hand. Then, she handed one of the toys to each of the children.

“I don’t know his name,” she said softly. “All I know is that he is a powerful warrior for life.”

“I’ll call him Pelor!” Annette announced, lifting her toy over her head with both hands.

“No, don’t do that,” Dree cautioned sternly, causing Lisa to prick up her ears. Something about the way she had said it made even Annette pay attention, while Mother turned from her cooking to listen.

“I don’t know his name,” Dree repeated, “but I know that Pelor works for him.”

The shock that rippled through the little house was almost visible. Joachim didn’t understand, but Annette was amazed, Mother was alarmed, and Lisa was scandalized. Pelor was the great god. Even Beory had been revealed by his light, although he hadn’t made her. He was the father of the other gods.

Dree calmly waited until she thought that they were ready to listen again. “The sheep is a symbol,” she said. “Just as the disk that Lisa wears is a symbol.” Lisa’s right hand moved self-consciously to cup the symbol of Beory that she wore around her neck.

“When great Pelor shines,” Dree continued, “he can burn the skin of the laborer in the field. His light destroys the undead and nourishes the plants. His path in the sky tells us when to sleep and when to rise. But even Pelor came from another place, according to the stories.”

Lisa nodded. She didn’t know a story that explained where Pelor had come from when he came into the darkness overseen by Tharizdun and revealed Beory with his light.

“There is a god who is greater – as much greater than Pelor as Pelor is than the Hopping Prophet.” Annette giggled, thinking of the goggle-eyed prophet who ranted about human superiority. “There is a god who made Pelor, as the stories say that Pelor made Rao and Allitur.”

Lisa gasped at the thought of a god that powerful. Dree continued.

“If Pelor burns us without meaning to,” she said, “simply because he is so powerful, you can imagine what would happen to the mortal who encountered the god who made Pelor.”

Lisa imagined a being of such incredible power that Pelor became sun-burned in his glow. In her mind’s eye she saw the world engulfed in flames – even the rocks melting and burning in the intense heat. Dree nodded, as though she could see inside Lisa’s head.

“This god is not only powerful, but he is also wise and good,” Dree said. “After all, he gave us Pelor, and the other good gods to care for us. Since these gods care for us, the one who made them must love us also. But he is too mighty to show himself in all of his strength. If he did that, we would all die. Instead, he shows himself as a little lamb.” Lisa hadn’t noticed, so engrossed had she been with her inner vision, but Dree had produced a third sheep toy, and she was holding it tenderly.

“And if even a lamb is too frightening for some,” Dree said, “this lamb has been killed.” She turned the toy to show where it was clumsily stitched closed with bright red thread.

“This is the tenderness and gentleness of the god that I serve,” Dree continued. “He loves your family. He loves your father so much that he helped me to notice Lisa at the temple of Beory, so that I could come and help you here. He rescued me from the slave pits in the Pomarj, after the rest of my family had been killed by slavers. And the power of that little lamb –” she pointed at the sheep that Joachim was playing with “– can destroy undead in the hands of someone who believes.”

Joachim reacted to this news by using the sheep toy to send the sticks and wood chips of his armies flying. Annette was staring into the silly eyes of the toy, as though she would read its thoughts. Mother had turned back to the hearth. Lisa thought she knew what her mother was thinking. “Religion is all well and good for those who have the time and money for it,” was her general attitude, although she allowed Lisa to help at the temple when she could.

“Lady Dree,” Lisa said, “if your god is so powerful, why are there evil things, like undead and the dark god?”

Dree smiled at the question, but not as though it were a foolish one. “Why is there evil, if good is so powerful?” she asked. “Well, I like to think of it this way. If evil were the great force of the universe, there would be nothing but evil. In the Old One’s lands to the north, all that is good has been stamped out. So we know that evil is not the great force.

“Some people think that this means that good is also not the great force. After all, why would good not stamp out all that is evil? The answer is that we are all evil.”

There was a gasp of protest from the hearth, while Annette cocked her head on one side as though to help her understand. Lisa thought she had begun to understand already, however.

“As an example, when you go to the market, you tell the seller that you can’t possibly pay his price, and he must come down. Now, you don’t have a lot of money, but I know that for certain things, you would pay the seller’s price if you had to.

“At the same time, the seller tells you that he could not possibly reduce his price, or his family will starve. You know that this is not true, for he has reduced his price many times, and his family continue to be well fed.

“It’s all a kind of game, of course, and no one means much of anything by it, but it’s evil all the same.”

“Because it’s lying,” Lisa said.

“Yes, that’s true,” said Dree, “but it’s also selfishness. It’s a willingness to make the other person do with less so that I can have more. That’s greed.”

Lisa nodded slowly. She thought about the times she had come home, filled with pride at having reduced a merchant’s price below what the normal fee was. Now she felt ashamed.

“If the great god were to destroy all of the evil,” Dree said, “there would be nothing left. Also, if he forced us to love him, that wouldn’t be much of a true love. And so, he is gentle and patient, and he works through lesser beings like me…”

“And like Pelor,” Lisa said, understanding dawning.

Lisa never told Annette about the dragons. How could she? How would the little girl believe her? The two men had taken the dragons south, away from town, while the winged boat on wheels drove into Hochoch with the woman, the halfling woman, and a man that Lisa hadn’t noticed before on the front seat. The halfling man who had casually risen into the air had come back down and was sitting in the back of the wagon on top of all sorts of boxes, bags, bales, and crates. Lisa saw the top of a cooking tripod protruding in one place, and there were several cookpots hanging on the outside of the boat – er, wagon.

Once the laundry had dried, Lisa and Annette folded it up into the basket, and made their way back home. Mother was glad to see them back, and Lisa helped her to turn Father to put the clean sheets back under him, getting some fresh straw to replace the soiled. Once that was done, and the girls had cleaned up after lunch, there were other chores, and so until bed.

It was two days until Mother told Lisa, “You’ve been a big help this week. Why don’t you go to the temple? It is Godsday, after all.”

Lisa didn’t hesitate. She was already wearing her best clothing — the other outfit was for field work and things of that sort — so she told Annette where she was going and left the house at a run. The other members of the family worshiped the Old Gods in their fashion, but Lisa never tired of going to the temple to see the rituals and hear the teaching. She tried to think if it was a special feast day, or if it would be a “normal” Godsday, but she couldn’t remember.

Arriving at the doors, she decided it must be a “normal” day. Most of the seats were empty, and the priestess of Beory was going through the liturgy half-heartedly, knowing that there was little enthusiasm among the little crowd gathered.

Lisa’s attention wandered. It was the story of how Nerull killed Obad-hai and hung him on the tree. The way she told it, Lisa knew that it would end before the part about Ehlonna planting him to be grown (born?) again in the spring. Some days they told the whole story, and some days only part of it.

She started looking at the other people in the seats. Most of them she knew, even to their names, for they were neighbors and the most faithful in attending Godsday services. There were a few strangers. One was a small Bakluni man, almost hidden in his big turban and flowing robes. She wondered how well he understood the story, the way his head bobbed around. There were three halflings that were talking to one another in hushed tones – politely enough, she supposed, but the way they were quietly laughing, she thought they weren’t paying too much attention.

One woman caught Lisa’s eye. She was plainly dressed in a light brown robe, almost like a priestess of some sort, and she was listening very closely to everything the priestess of Beory was saying. She didn’t seem “enthralled”, as though she was hanging on every word. Rather, it almost seemed to Lisa that the woman was evaluating the story, checking to see if it was correct.

With a bit of a thrill, Lisa realized that the woman she was studying was the one who had been on the ferry. She glanced around to see if she recognized any of the others from that group and was startled to notice a man leaning against the wall of the temple.

This man was in the shadow of a support column, and standing so still that she thought for a moment he might be a statue. He was clad in armor from head to toe, including a helmet that covered his face completely. A long cloak completed the outfit. There was no tunic to show allegiance to a lord or any other marking like that. Lisa decided that he was a mercenary or sell-sword, but his attention seemed to be on the woman in the brown robe.

About this time, Lisa realized that the priestess had finished the story, and had begun one of the lesser litanies. Lisa stumbled over the words, distracted as she was by the strange woman and stranger man. Finally, the service was over and she moved to the front to give an offering. It wasn’t much, for her family didn’t have much to give, and Lisa made sure to contribute only from her personal funds. When she turned around after receiving the priestess’ blessing, the woman from the ferry and the strange mercenary were gone. The three halflings greeted her jovially, each holding a small money bag as they went forward to the priestess. Lisa returned their greeting automatically and hurried away from the altar.

She puzzled over it in her own mind, but she wanted to find the strangers. When she emerged from the temple into the morning light, she scanned the street, but couldn’t see them anywhere. Somewhat dejected, she sat down on the temple steps and leaned against a column.

Why was she so interested in the strangers, she wondered? Was it because of the dragons? Was it because of the man who so casually had cuffed and tugged on the dragon? It might even have been something to do with the strange boat-cart, or the halfling who flew. Perhaps it was just the thought of strange, exciting people coming from the Dim Forest on mysterious business.

As she was mulling over all of these thoughts, she heard the priestess say, “You’ve given me much to think about,” and then there were steps on the stones by the threshold. She looked up to see the woman from the ferry lifting the hood of her robe to cover her long, black hair as she exited the temple.

“Beory warm and Pelor’s light guide you,” Lisa said, rising to her feet and curtsying awkwardly.

The woman turned to her and smiled. “The one who made them welcome you,” she responded.

Lisa was shocked. This was not one of the normal responses to the religious greeting. Beory was the earth mother. She made everything, with Pelor, when they danced in the new light Pelor had brought. She looked up into the calm, dark eyes of the strange woman, who seemed to be waiting for Lisa’s thoughts to clear. About then, she realized that the mercenary from the church had moved up right behind the woman, and the fear must have shown in her eyes, for the woman glanced over her shoulder and then looked back, smiling.

“My name is Dree,” she said, “and this is Usen. He is my protector.” Taking Lisa by the hand, Dree led her down the steps of the temple and to a nearby tavern that had tables set out in the square. Dree guided Lisa to a seat and sat down next to her while Usen stood between them and and the square, the helmet turning this way and that as he surveyed the small groups at the scattered tables.

Lisa was overwhelmed. She had never sat at a tavern like this, although she thought her father had. She hoped the woman wouldn’t think her rude if she didn’t order anything, for the only money she had brought was the half-copper she had left in the temple offering.

Dree caught the attention of the serving girl and ordered two short beers. Lisa shrank down in her chair when the girl looked her way, and the wench returned to the tavern with Dree’s order. When Lisa looked up again, Dree was calmly staring at her.

“Are you new to Hochoch?” Lisa finally asked, holding fast to her courage.

Dree nodded. “We arrived on Sunday,” she said.

“So, where are you from?”

Dree laughed, a musical sound. “I’m originally from the Principality of Ulek,” she said, “and Usen is from the Pomarj.”

Lisa’s eyes must have goggled. She knew the Uleks were far away on the other side of the Rushmoors, and the Pomarj was even farther than that.

“I’ve only been to Leilam’s Orchard,” she said. “That’s in Gran March, but they talk just the same as we do. Father took us to a festival there before …” She broke off, fearing that she had said too much.

The beers arrived, and Dree pushed one of them over to Lisa, rather than giving it to Usen. Lisa gulped.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said, “I came out without any money today.”

Dree smiled gently. “That’s alright,” she said. “I have plenty.” Lisa looked again at her.

The robe was plainly woven, but of good quality. It looked like undyed sheep’s wool, although the sheep near Hochoch were a different color. She had no ornaments – no rings on her fingers or bangles on her wrists. She didn’t even have any pins in her hair.

Lisa glanced at Usen, and saw the glint of rubies from the pommel of his sword. He, at least, had some of the markings of wealth, and she thought that his armor must be somewhat costly too, though it was a different style than what the soldiers in Hochoch wore.

She picked up the beer and sipped it, feeling more at ease as her stomach responded to the wholesome drink.

“What’s your name?” Dree had hardly sampled her beer, but was looking intently into Lisa’s face.

“I’m Lisa,” the girl replied, taking another drink to avoid saying anything more.

“I noticed that you came to the temple alone,” Dree commented. “You mentioned your father. Is he still living?”

Lisa gulped. She had not wanted to talk about her father. “Yes,” she said. “He’s alive.” Perhaps there was something in her tone of voice that communicated the darker truth, that he was not well.

Dree nodded. “And your mother?” Her head was cocked on one side as she waited for Lisa’s reply.

“Oh, Mother is fine!” Lisa said in a rush, taking another drink of the beer.

“Do you have any siblings?”

Lisa wasn’t sure where all of these questions were leading, but at least she could talk about her siblings without worrying about complications. “Bobby is apprenticed to a carpenter over by the Town Gate,” she said. “I’m next, and then Annette. Baby Joachim is only three.”

Dree nodded. “Are the others working this Godsday?”

Lisa paused. “Well, I think Bobby works all the time. I don’t see him much because he’s always busy with his carpenting. Annette is helping mother at home, but I think she’s just mostly playing with the baby.” Dree’s calm face was like a forest pool that quietly absorbed everything Lisa said without showing a ripple of response.

“And your father?”

Lisa’s face burned, and she thought it was unfair of Dree to ask her questions like this. She hadn’t asked for a beer, and she didn’t feel that she ought to owe Dree answers to personal questions. Who was Dree, anyway, a stranger from Ulek?

“He… He can’t work.” Lisa studied her fingers, wrapped around the porcelain mug on the weather beaten wooden table top.

“Can the priests of Beory do nothing for him?”

Lisa looked up. There was care and compassion in Dree’s face. Looking back down at the mug, Lisa said, “We don’t have the money to ask them.”

Dree glanced at Lisa’s mug. It was basically empty, since she had drunk to keep from talking too much, and Dree drained her own in a single draught. Then, leaving a gold coin on the tabletop, she stood and held out a hand to Lisa.

“I’d like to meet your family,” she said.

“Are you a priest?”

“I am, although I have no healing magic,” Dree replied, anticipating Lisa’s thoughts. “I do have some skill as an apothecary, though.”

Lisa didn’t know how to respond, but Dree had been very nice so far, and although Usen was vaguely menacing, he hadn’t actually done anything frightening. She led the two strangers through town to the cramped neighborhood where her family lived.

When Lisa’s mother heard the door open, she said, “Oh, there you are. If you can give me a hand with the sheets I’ll take them down and wash them.” She stood and turned from the small hearth as she finished talking, and stood mutely, staring at the two strangers behind her daughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize Lisa had brought company. How may I serve you?”

Dree nudged Lisa out of the way, where she had been standing in the doorway, and pulling her hood down off of her dark hair, she bowed to Lisa’s mother.

“My name is Dree Dantreyuss,” she said, “and I am a priestess of the God above all gods. I met your daughter at the temple of Beory in town.” She glanced around the cramped common room, the bundles of herbs hanging from the rafters and everything taking just a little more room than was available. “I don’t know, specifically, what your prayers have been,” she continued, “but I know that they have been heard. I don’t know how they will be answered, but I know that I have been sent to you as part of the answer.”

As she was speaking, Dree moved gracefully into the room, and Lisa saw that two gold coins appeared on the table where her hand passed. Mother was too stunned to notice that, her eyes seemed fixed on Dree’s face.

Finally finding her voice, she said, “My lady is gracious, but we have no money for temple services.” She spoke huskily, and her eyes were downcast on the floor.

“Did Lisa-bones finally come back from the temple?” a saucy voice asked as Annette slid down the ladder from the loft-space. She whirled around to tease Lisa some more and froze as she saw Dree standing in the middle of the room.

“Who are you?” she said in a moment, dancing over to shut the door, and stopping again when she saw Usen standing in the street.

Dree turned to follow the little girl’s movement, and Lisa saw a big smile on her face. Annette had that affect on most people outside the family.

“You must be Annette,” Dree said. “I’m Dree. I came to visit you because I want to meet your father.”

“He’s in his room,” Annette announced, cheerfully, and before their mother could say anything, she had danced over to the doorway at the back of the room and pulled the curtain to one side.

“Annette!” Their mother finally found her voice. “You shouldn’t — I’m sorry, ma’am.” Mother’s face was a mask of anguish as she sought the appropriate way to avert this catastrophe, but Dree ignored the obvious cues and ducked her head as she moved into the little bedroom.

The room stank of infection and a used chamber pot, and the small window let only a little light through the greased parchment that covered it. Dree went directly to the side of the bed and lifted the tangled sheets from Father’s body. Lisa, peering through the small doorway, could see that Father’s nightshirt had twisted around and was hiked around his waist, exposing him. The wound on his thigh was open again, and blood and pus oozed out, soiling shirt and sheet.

Dree knelt by the bed and reached into a pouch at her side. Although the pouch was quite small, hardly more than a purse, she removed quite a large piece of cloth from it, and then a small pot which proved to contain an ointment. Using one end of the cloth, she cleaned the wound and then smeared ointment on it. Through the process, Father lay motionless, his glazed eyes looking past her at the wall.

Finally, Dree produced a small flask from her pouch, and she held it to Father’s lips and told him to drink. He did, and suddenly relaxed in a way he hadn’t done for weeks. Eyes closing, he rolled onto his back and his steady breathing showed that he had gone to sleep.