"I don't like this," Whitlock said quietly to his sister, though Vheod could hear him.
Before Melann could answer, Vheod said to Whitlock, "Isn't this the best way to keep an eye on me? If I'm trying to do something wrong, would I not be better within sword's reach? The best way to watch your enemies is to keep them close enough to kill, the saying goes. It's a saying where I come from, in any event. Besides, those gnolls will probably come back-just as you said."
Perhaps, Vheod thought, it would be good that Whitlock and Melann watched him very closely. Whitlock may very well be right not to trust him. He looked, almost reflexively, for the Taint. It resided on his forearm, as though it wanted him to see it. The tattoo had taken on the form of a laughing, leering face.
Whitlock didn't say anything. Instead he folded his arms in front of him defiantly.
Melann approached Vheod, extending her hand. "We would appreciate your company, Vheod Runechild."
Chapter Ten
"So, are you a wizard?”
"Me?" Melann asked in surprise.
The summer sun would soon set, and the shadows Around them grew long. The looming shadows of the mountains already swathed much of the surrounding area in a blanket of darkness. She looked down to Vheod, who had asked the question, and apparently had asked it with sincerity. His eyes told her that he indeed sought an answer. Vheod walked alongside their horses while she and her brother rode. Melann was amazed that he could keep up the face over the hours of the journey. A full day had passed since their paths joined, and he never once showed signs of tiring-though he slept the night before like any mortal man.
Whitlock never ceased his constant vigil, convinced the gnolls would attack again. His caution probably slowed their pace a little, but no one commented on it.
"In the battle with the gnolls," Vheod said, "you cast a spell that struck down a number of them."
Melann laughed for a moment, more out of the joy of actually laughing than the humor of what Vheod really said. He didn't seem to take offense at her laughing at him-instead, it seemed to bring a smile to his own face. She was fascinated with his long hair and dark, rough skin-but mostly she enjoyed looking into his face. She saw a sort of nobility in his eyes. She believed that a tanar'ri, raised in the Abyss no less, trying to overcome its inherent evil was perhaps the noblest thing she'd ever heard of.
"I'm not a wizard, but a Watchful Sister of the Earth. A follower and servant of Chauntea, Our Mother," she said with a smile.
Vheod looked puzzled. "Our Mother?"
"Yes. Chauntea nurtures and provides for our world. She loves and cares for all growing things." It felt strange to be talking about her faith with a tanar'ri-or half tanar'ri, anyway. According to all she'd ever read or been taught about creatures such as he, Vheod was an abomination. Of course, she really hadn't read that much. Demonology was hardly a requirement for a priest of Chauntea. She'd heard a few stories about creatures summoned by wizards or great monstrosities that walked the land in earlier, more arcane ages, but she honestly never thought she might ever, or could ever, simply talk with one.
"I see. There are few priests where I come from, and they all worship, well… things better left unworshiped and names better left unspoken. I am more familiar with wizardry than priestcraft. Forgive me."
Melann kept her smile. "You don't need to be sorry."
What must it have been like to have lived in- well, wherever he came from? A place of evil and darkness, certainly, but now he was here, and he'd seen beauty and freedom. Could anyone in the world appreciate the Mother of All's goodness and bounty more than he?
Melann turned away from him, looking at the green, rolling hills that led up in every direction to high, rocky peaks. Birds sang in the trees that dotted the hills, and the nurturing sun blazed down in all it’s glory, as if to spread its energy on the world for orc last moment as it prepared to rest for the night. It was so easy to trust utterly in the goodness and night of Chauntea gazing on such a scene. It was easy to see that she guided all things with her divine hinds.
But what if Vheod was right? What if Melann and Whitlock couldn't find the cure for the wasting disease that drained away their parents' lives? Worse yet, what if in so trying they freed some horrible evil? Surely Chauntea wouldn't lead her down such a path. Melann decided that Vheod must be mistaken. He must.
"What's it like to believe in something so wholeheartedly?" Vheod asked her, staring straight ahead is he walked, "How can you trust in what you believe? And if the god you serve is truly worthy of service, how can you know that you are worthy to serve?" Vheod looked up at her. "I'm sorry. I have no business asking such-"
"No, that's quite all right." Melann swallowed. How did this man-if man he was-see her so clearly? His questions cut right to the heart of what troubled her, and why she was plagued with self-doubt.
"Proof that Our Mother is worthy of worship is all around you. Didn't you say yesterday that you found our world beautiful? That's the work of Chauntea." She forced herself to smile, hoping it would cover for the fact that she left his last question unanswered. Vheod just nodded, and didn't press any further. Whitlock remained closed mouthed. He obviously didn't trust Vheod. His every mannerism made this clear to Melann, and maybe to Vheod. Melann wasn't so certain. She wasn't willing to dismiss Vheod as quickly as her brother had. The elf spirit in the Vale of Lost Voices had spoken Vheod's name. That had to mean something.
When darkness overcame the vale through which they traveled, the three of them stopped to sleep for the night. Vheod helped Whitlock gather wood for a fire. Neither of them spoke, but both kept a sharp eye out for more gnolls.
Melann had gathered some wild berries when they stopped earlier that day for a short rest. When they returned, she offered these to both men to supplement their rations. As he was the previous night, Vheod was grateful that they shared their food with him, for he had brought nothing to eat himself. Fortunately, his inhuman nature usually allowed him to go for long periods without needing to eat. Usually, Vheod didn't think of food until the pangs of hunger allowed him to think of nothing else.
He happily accepted the berries, as well as leftover meat from some game birds Whitlock had killed the previous morning. While they ate, Whitlock muttered quietly about needing to hunt again the next day. Vheod planned to help him but kept quiet for now.
Removing his breastplate, Vheod stretched out near the fire. The heat didn't bother him. Night birds, insects, and the crackling fire made the only noise for quite some time. To Vheod it seemed there were a great many birds in the area, but he realized it was probably normal and thought nothing more of it. Like the previous night, the three of them didn't really know what to say to each other. Unlike the last night, however, they weren't so exhausted that they collapsed into almost immediate sleep. Melann finally broke the silence.
"Do you know anything about these green stones?" She held up a small glassy stone she'd pulled from her pouch, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. It was lustrous and sparkled in the firelight, Vheod reached toward her with his hand open. She cropped the stone into his palm, and he felt the stone's smooth surface between his fingers.
He shook his head and said, "No, I've no idea. Does t have meaning?"
“I’m beginning to think so," she told him. "I took his from one of the gnolls that attacked us the first time. I noticed the second group also had some of them. They're collecting them, I think. The stones have meaning to the gnolls. It's a piece of the puzzle is to why they're gathering, I think."