Dark Warrior Rising by Ed Greenwood Read Free Book Online

useful to us, and serve for a time as guardians or hunters-of-intruders. It’s a punishment some grow to enjoy.”
    Hesitantly the young novice went to one of the chairs at the table and sat in it, drawing her legs in under her. She crossed trembling arms over her breast, still staring at the Revered Mother of Coldheart with confusion and fear brimming in her eyes. “Am … am I to be punished?”
    â€œNo. Enlightened. And yes, there is a difference.”
    â€œOh. What … what are you going to tell me?”
    â€œAnswers to whatever you ask. So think of something, or you’re going to be rather bored, sitting there in silence watching me eat slaar-worms.” The Revered Mother lifted ajar from her lap, plucked off its lid, and smiled down into the faint glow. “I love slaar-worms.”
    Lolonmae managed to quell her shudder completely. “Ask about … anything?”
    â€œAnything. The Ravagers, my undergarments, why Nifl worship other gods, or gods at all—anything.”
    Lolonmae blinked as she tried to picture what a Revered Mother might wear under her robes, decided she did not want to know, and then sighed, fought down the fears still flooding her, and blurted out, “All right: the Ravagers. Why are there Ravagers? Are they all oriad?”
    â€œNo. Most are unpleasant and desperate—they have to be, to survive in the Wild Dark—but they are not mad. They are outcasts.”
    â€œMurderers? Lawbreakers? Darksins?”
    â€œAll three, some of them. Others choose to go out into the Wild. Most aren’t guilty of much more than being ugly.”
    â€œUgly?”
    The Revered Mother sighed, dipped a hand into her jar, and munched. The child knew nothing; this was going to take longer than she’d feared.
    â€œLolonmae,” she asked quietly, “what do you know of the worship of Olone?”
    â€œA false faith,” the novice said promptly. “The foolish Nifl who follow it strive ever to become more beautiful, so as to ascend to Olone, whom they see as … well, as beauty. They spend—waste—their lives trying to become ever more beautiful.”
    The Revered Mother nodded. “What do you think happens to someone in a city of Olone worshippers, someone who is not beautiful—or becomes less so?”
    â€œThey … they are killed?”

    â€œOften. Yet just as often they are driven forth into the Wild to die, or flee to avoid being slain. The ‘Wild Dark’ is called that for a reason: many beasts that devour Niflghar lurk there. If Nifl outcasts don’t join the Ravagers, they seldom last long.”
    â€œSo the Ravagers aren’t butchers, infant-eaters, and rapists?”
    â€œSome may well be. Most are ugly or disfigured, or maimed or infirm in some way. They raid and hunt, as the tales you’ve heard describe so bloodily, but mainly up in the Blindingbright where humans rule. Look at the table beside you.”
    Lolonmae blinked, peered into the gloom, and gave the elder priestess a puzzled frown. The tabletop was bare.
    The Revered Mother sighed again. “Regard the bare stone more closely, child.”
    This time the novice noticed the faint markings.
    The Revered Mother quelled another sigh, swallowed a last mouthful of slaar—ahh, both sweet and roast-meat juicy; how she loved good slaar!—and bent her will.
    Obediently, one little mark on the tabletop suddenly glowed, making Lolonmae jump and exclaim.
    â€œEver-Ice preserve, ” the elder priestess snarled under her breath. Were all the younglings this slow-witted? “That,” she announced calmly, “is the city of Talonnorn. You’ve heard of it, I believe.”
    If Lolonmae heard the biting sarcasm in those words, she gave no sign of it, but turned wide eyes to the Revered Mother. “This is a map?”
    By way of reply, the elder priestess pointed silently at the tabletop. Lolonmae looked there