Book 3: Sound And Fury

  Chapter 36 Neither Itsy, Nor Bitsy

  The armored lunatic and his insect monster led templar captain Skander through the vast, idyllic garden. They marched past the bathing pool and among the cluster of buildings into the beating heart of madness itself. The captive knight followed his guide into what amounted to a fair sized hamlet, populated by near endless repetitions and variations of the same damn man. Through a door set in the foundation, the mad witch led him down into a dim, vacant seeming room that appeared to stretch on forever, the walls lost in shadows.

  “Take a seat, Skander. This won’t take long.” The witch grumbled, as he removed his faceless yellow helmet of lacquered wood. He waved to the place where the door had been, the one they entered through. In its place stood a scattering of comfy looking furniture, set out as a parlor, complete with tea and snacks.

  “In my home, ask no questions, believe only what you see… No! Believe only half of what you see.” He declared with a cheeky grin at the hostage knight. He waited for a few moments for some kind of reaction, before he shrugged and took a seat.

  “Too bad… Of course, you never watched the Crimson Pirate… My kids love that one.”

  “You really are mad as a march hare…” Skander muttered.

  “Oh yeah, I’m nuts.. but that’s not why you’ve been brought here. You’re here because you’ve been keeping your boys and the legion in line… Which I appreciate.” He sighed and began pouring the tea.

  “That has earned you a fingernail’s width of my mercy. Otherwise, I’d have asked the count to give you to me, since you tried to kill all my friends and family with an army of slaves.” The madman chuckled merrily and selected a sandwich for himself from the tray of snacks on the table.

  “Count Liam stuck me with those lords and nobles, so I’m sure if I asked, he’d hand you over. My soft heartedness is costing him a fortune every day, feeding and clothing you guys.”

  “Gary, I thought you were going to give me a discount!” A young man’s voice complained from somewhere nearby.

  A moment later, that abysmally handsome young lord stepped into the light, followed by a muscular goblin man dressed in the humble finery of a prosperous artisan. Behind them followed a short, absurdly muscular youth with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes… Yet, he was unquestionably one of the many many iterations and variants of the insane being who held his mens’ lives in his open palm.

  “Captain Skander, templar knight captain of the LightGlen garrison…” The awful madman said, clearly and carefully, as if he’d rehearsed it a few times. “You are in the presence of count Liam Kinnis, Forestlord of this domain. To his right, I present his majesty, Ghnash’Wharrgh, witch-king of the goblins.” The witch announced, now inexplicably dressed in common workmen’s clothing. “Lurking behind them is Gandree Ward, my youngest brother. King Ghnash and Gandree are here to represent the Tarots… I selected them because they are among the least murdery of the bunch. My brothers are really sour on your lot for some reason. Probably all the ritual sacrifices and slavery, I suppose.”

  “So I am to be tried for the alleged crimes of the entire church of the blessed light?” Skander asked calmly.

  The horrid little green monster man clambered up onto a seat sized just for him and tucked into a huge sandwich already plated up in front of his chair.

  “Nub nub. We’re here…” He said in a surprisingly clear tone, with his mouth full of spicy, grilled giant leech.

  “...Here to deterimines what we do with you templar humans. Maybe go free, maybe serve some time of indenture… Maybe we kill.” He grunted at the knight and nodded. “Ghnash doesn’t care, so long as you do no more mischief.”

  The handsome young lord spoke quietly, with a teacup balanced on his knee. “Your liege lords and clerics will pay the price of their folly, their fates are sealed. Perhaps your men can be sent home; so long as you remain compliant and docile; until such time as we can safely send you back through the veil…” The count offered soberly. “That may happen sooner than later.”

  “Woah there brother…” Gary murmured quietly. “We still need to decide some things and much of that will be dependent on how you answer my questions.”

  “So it is a trial of some kind…” The knight muttered.

  “Nope. I’m gonna have a chat with you and then we will decide the details of when and how your cohort will be handled… It’s that simple. First thing, we’re going to talk about the eldritch nature of your cult’s leadership… You seem to be aware that they are all possessed, demons, undead and other kinds of… exotic life forms. Am I correct?”

  “Yes, I and most of the officer corps have long suspected that the pontiff and many of her cardinals could be… unnatural.” He answered carefully.

  “And yet you continued to do their bidding.” The count sounded coldly neutral, very coldly neutral.

  “I am a soldier, I obey my superiors’ commands.” He replied evenly.

  “That’s it, huh? You follow orders blindly and without thought? Yet, once captured, you submitted and have been pretty compliant…” The madman grunted at the knight. “Your masters would probably prefer if you all died, doing as much damage as you could manage in the process, so you aren't that obedient.”

  “I and some of my brother knights were investigating a magical anomaly near the city of LightGlen. In the process, we discerned the traces of your group’s passage through the veil and recorded the relevant power rankings.” He mumbled, sounding embarrassed and a little ashamed.

  “To think that little bug has a power level of such magnitude… Over nine thousand!” He gasped.

  “Wait… Mariah? You’re scared of Mariah?” He asked, his mad eyes wide with delight. “Oh, wow… That’s just… Wow!” He smiled and sighed with absolute pleasure. “You have got to meet my brother, Ward. You should get a load of him through your scouter whatzit!”

  “Gary… we’re getting off topic.” The short, ridiculously muscled man whispered in a voice that sounded like smooth, round boulders rolling in a swift flowing stream.

  “Right right, Gandree… Adding Ward to this council would be an act of folly. You’re very wise! This is why I allow you to marry my sweet, delicate daughter Daisybelle! Is a very great honor, mountainfolk boy!” Ghnash sniffed at the lad, smiling through the grisly remains of another sandwich.

  “Yes, let’s get back on topic, before anyone crashes this party.” Liam declared firmly.

  “Right!” Ward agreed enthusiastically, as he stepped from the shadows, draped in his cloak of bat wings and wearing a tall, black hat. “We wouldn’t want too many spoons in this jam pot.”

  “Oh, gods…” Liam sighed weakly.

  “Exactly, Liam my lad… exactly. Hi there, captain Skander! I’m Ward, the local god of Death, Vengeance, Dark Secrets and Golden Figs… Though I admit, the Figs aren’t important right now.” He grinned madly, just like the other one.

  “Aww, crap.” Ghnash muttered sourly.

  /

  “Aww, frass!” Kylie muttered in a quick stutter-step slide, as she fumbled with her harp, wrestling uncooperative limbs that were still tingly and partially numb. The larger of the two humans emitted a short, gusty, barking sound for a moment, before whispering to the other, who seemed similarly affected.

  It took a few clumsy and faltering minutes to get her instrument tuned to frequencies hominids could detect and warm up.

  The humans spent that time observing her and whispering to each other, which felt pretty rude. She decided to scold them thoroughly, once she figured out how to communicate with them.

  /

  “She mumbles when she’s stressed out…” Barry explained quietly, while they watched the huge spider get its ‘frass’ together. Barry had delighted in spending a fair bit of time explaining to her all the subtleties of spider excrement and profanity.

  “Great, now I know what spider shit is called…” Lindsey deadpanned the poor boy, followed up with a demand for more details. “Why are you hiding that you understand her dance speech?”

  “Because she mumbles when she’s stressed… I can basically read her surface thoughts, to a degree.” He shrugged and grinned. “I have an unfair advantage!”

  “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, boy.” She muttered. “What’s she saying?”

  “She’s speculating on whether we’re a couple, I think… She’s not really talking; it’s an involuntary thing that I don’t think she knows about. Like my dad and Wilf being unable to lie.” He mused thoughtfully.

  “Flash says that the god Order tried to tame your father and saddle him…” She paused and blushed bright red, before addressing someone who was not present.

  “No, I’m not saying that!” She yelped at her familiar, who was in the stable, far from the giant spider. “Curse you Flash! All right! Wretched beast!” She sighed, after catching an inaudible earful from her mount.

  “What did he say?” Barry asked eagerly, since he was very obviously delighted by the new color she’d turned.

  “Flash says that the god Order tried to tame your father and saddle him… But only mistress Shai can ride the Shadowmounted.” She reported in a cold and reluctant tone.

  “Gross!” Barry giggled and smirked at her abominably, leering like a fool.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “You and my horse can both just… just…” She fumed and sputtered, until she realized that the spider was up and watching with keen interest, from just over there.

  Barry turned around to face the being and bowed gracefully to her. “Hello, madame spider… I suppose you can’t understand me, but someone has to start things off!” He declared brightly, with a wink to Lindsey; who had retreated a fair bit across the garden.

  /

  The larger hominid spoke in their language, which of course made little sense… His voice was also right at the very upper edge of her instrument’s tonal range. She wondered if she would need to re-string her voice, in order to communicate with them.

  She eyed the female with a few of her left side orbs while contemplating mammals, and the ‘breasts’ that signified the females of the various species. Something about them was compelling, inexplicably so… Kylie shook off those errant thoughts as she tried to decide which of her known languages would be most likely to succeed with these strange creatures.

  “Do not be afraid, humanoids…” She stammered in lower Drigedish, the language of a dwarf clan active in local delving and interplanar trade. “I mean you no harm.” She blurted out those two stock phrases in a passable excuse for vocal speech.

  “Oh! Excelent!” The presumed male answered eagerly, in clear and well accented Drigedish. He came across as both educated and eloquent, more so than her instructor in the language, who had been a native speaker of the tongue.

  “I was afraid we’d have to resort to circular breathing and throatsinging… That always makes me dizzy.” He said while baring his ludicrously small teeth at her. The fellow immediately turned to address his companion in their language; translating for her, most likely.

  /

  Barry conducted a low, rumbling conversation with the creature, speaking a strange, bass pitched and gravely language Lindsey had never heard before. She thought about that for a moment… Only a minority of the local beastfolk could easily speak human language, though they all understood and could get by. Lindsey wondered why none of the humans of her acquaintance had ever even considered learning any of the beastfolk dialects.

  Barry interrupted her maunderings when he spoke softly in a language that made sense. “I’m gonna have a chat with her for a bit. Just hang loose and supervise, please.”

  “Supervise what?” She demanded weakly, as he turned back to the giant hairy bug and continued prattling away.

  /

  He turned back to her and bared his teeth again. “All right, Kylie! I’m Barry Ward, your captor. Lindsey over there can’t understand you, but she is in contact with our friends in the house. That means, if you try any ‘big scary spider’ stuff, you might get a hostile response from people who can’t understand your speech…”

  He paused and made an odd gesture, dragging the largest digit of an upper appendage across his ‘throat’... She was sure that’s what they called that in her xeno-anatomy classes.

  “Understood, human BarryWard.” She strummed softly. “Surprised to find, you speak Drigedish so well, I am deeply.”

  “Right…” He replied, in erudite tones and well modulated pitches. “Drigedish is what we’re speaking… of course. I knew that, naturally.”

  Kylie decided that the challenging syntax of the tongue was the reason he sounded evasive and sly… perhaps even deceptive.

  “We have no intent to harm you, nor your people… I reiterate, human.” She continued, despite some nagging thought, tickling her hindbrain. She discarded the idea that she’d missed something and pressed on.

  “Super… Awsome. So why did you jump out and try to scare us off? Your friend escaped and we didn’t kill you by accident with our darts, but it could easily have been an ugly scene.” He demanded firmly.

  “We were ordered to prey on you by a superior who… was mistaken about some things and struggled with new information. We planned to simply drive you off, to prevent a tragedy, should you encounter other members of our party.” She danced an embarrassed little stutter step and sighed through her harp, expressed in a mellow G chord that diminished away.

  “Our leader believes that this realm of fractured reality has been set aside by our gods for the Arachnean peoples. Her faith convinces her that by divine decree, you must be interlopers or uncommonly clever animals.”

  “I understand, Kylie… every species has a few of those kicking around, no matter how enlightened they may be otherwise.” Barry assured the spider lady.

  “BarryWard, human… How do you know my name? I have not given you my name yet!” Kylie gasped in F minor, rising sharply at the end.

  “I’m just awful at being deceptive…” Barry danced at the arachnid in her native dialect of posture and rhythm. His embarrassed stutter step even matched her own local accent in some disconcerting ways. “I have a magical gift for communication, which I prefer to keep confidential, usually. I overheard your name when you were communicating with your friend, Thyla.”

  “How unusual… The scholarly consensus is that humans are unable to perceive our auditory frequencies and are unable to interpret our dance idiom as sentient communication.” She murmured, half in musical notes, half in a thoughtless and idle dance. “We can discuss that at length later, right now, I would rather return to my colleagues. They must be quite upset by now.”

  “Your tarantula friend has been skulking in the woods above our home for a while now. She seems very upset… the rest of your group is far less agitated, according to our scouts.” Barry offered. “The others seem to be waiting for something to happen.”

  “Most of my party are weavers and web lurkers… they tend to be passive and reactive.” Kylie muttered, sounding a little cross. “Thyla and I are more active and possess far superior vision, by our nature as active hunters.”

  “Well, I’d rather not have your big friend try to sneak in to save you tonight, so we are going to recommend to our leader that you be released with your goods and items… Please wait here for a moment while I try and smooth things over.” Barry sighed at the huge creature. “Our uncle is pretty upset over your little prank. But he’ll come around.”

  The two humans departed, leaving her alone in the garden, surrounded by a hedge of thorny and acid berried brambles.

  Thornberries were a well known nuisance across the cosmos, flourishing on most worlds possessing magical energies above D tier. The wicked, barbed thorns caused nasty inflammation when poked into most warm blooded species, while the berries would burst when brushed even lightly, dousing the intruder with toxic, stinging, acidic purple juice. Kylie wondered how they managed such a hedge, while considering whether to simply leap over it and escape into the woods.

  The humans returned, along with several more of their comrades, before she decided whether or not to escape, resolving the matter neatly. Barry stepped to the front of the group and addressed her firmly and without much preamble.

  “Master Adventurer Dannyl has instructed me to scold you thoroughly…” He declared, emitting an aura of deeply rooted embarrassment that was perceptible even to her admittedly feeble grasp of the human’s moods.

  “You are in the lands of count Liam Kinnis, Forestlord of county Kinnis, not some piddling backwater dungeon world… Your actions violated the Delver’s Code and could have resulted in a tragedy. No further nonsense will be tolerated and this matter will be reported to the appropriate authorities.”

  Receiving a scolding from this tiny, naked and vulnerable creature amused Kylie so thoroughly, she forgot all about the scolding. The human youth shrugged, which appeared to have the same meaning for the humans as for her own kind… Which was deeply amusing on its own merits.

  “She’s laughing, Barry…” Dannyl complained bitterly. “I’ve hung around with your auntie Thirp enough to know what a giant, laughing jumping spider looks like! Gods, my life is weird…” The smaller man shook his head and chuckled. “At least waggle your finger at her, boy!” The older man griped.

  “Well I would… But in spider, that’s the beginning of her people’s mating dance!” Bary complained right back, with a big grin on his face, as he waggled his finger at Lindsey.

  The big lad turned back to his amused and confused arachnid pal and shrugged again, starting a fresh round of spider giggles. “So sorry, BarryWard… it’s just so cute when you shrug with just two shoulders!”

  “Help me out here Kylie… My boss is watching and you’re laughing along… That’s pretty messed up! I thought we were friends…” Barry complained at the big bug.

  “Apologies, Barry Ward, consider me properly chastened.” She murmured, dipping into a low bow.

  “All right… Take care and feel free to bring your friends by and chat… Just announce yourselves first. We’re a little busy right now and can’t coddle you ladies.”

  “Barry…” Wilf muttered unhappily from the group of humans. “We have company incoming, fast. At least seven large arachnids have entered the perimeter of our compound. I sense them stealthily assembling on the hill above us.”

  /

  “This is a tangled strand indeed…” Thris’litch muttered sourly as she surveyed the scene. In a sheltered clearing, below her band of arachnid warriors, a small humanoid dwelling lay, beside a steaming pool of clearly magical water… or something. In the hedge walled garden several humans faced off with the missing scout, Kylie of the Explorer’s guild. She seemed intact and hale… yet she also accepted confinement behind the hedge willingly, despite her comrade’s claims of imminent peril.

  “Inform lady Finli’tichintch that this is in fact, a party of sentients and that her comrade does not appear to be in peril…” Thris slowly dropped down from her perch in a tall pine, landing lightly on her eight legs among dry needles and fallen boughs.

  “Yes, captain… She is unlikely to receive your report with good grace.” Kriklit’thisch murmured softly while she worked to link her instrument to a long communication strand that vanished among the trees, strung up high in the pines and aspens.

  “Record all further communications until this misadventure ends, Krik… I suspect there may be some need for such evidence when we get home.” Thris whispered, before raising her voice to address her team.

  “Ladies, I would like you all to make a quick memo of your current impressions on this mission and our objectives. Please include an unbiased evaluation of the current tactical situation and an appraisal of our opposition forces.”

  “Why do I always draw these kinds of missions?” Grithil’reiach the wandering spider complained as she wove her documentation in a short ribbon of intricately tatted lace. “I could fill out reports at home!”

  “Better by far to write reports, than to be the subject of them…” Jerisji’ythins whispered gleefully, as she wove a few more strands into her scarf of detailed knotwork. “This feels like a fool’s errand… instigated by a zealot with delusions of divine inspiration.”

  “Lady Finli’tichintch is from a well respected family and sits high in the clergy of lord Aclintherios…” Thris warned her acerbic and keen witted scout. “She may well gain access to our reports through her connections. I suggest you remain circumspect and professional, little cousin.”

  “Politics and religion, against reason and the law…” Histlth’istha muttered crossly over her own textile. “Historically, reason fares poorly in such conflicts. Miss me with that.” The agitated jumper bobbed on her knees in the nervous laughter of her people.

  “They seem to be humans, we could overwhelm their defenses and web them up… I believe that most would flee the moment we appear.” Jeri suggested eagerly, shuffling and bobbing in her excitement.

  “I mislike our chances of raiding that place… Without causing injuries to the primates or risking our own safety.” Thyla murmured softly from the edge of the war-party of spiders. “Their weapons disabled Kylie almost instantly and I’m still getting itchy numb flashes from where I was struck.”

  “Too much speculation, not enough information!” Thris danced in deeply annoyed steps. “Lylith… where is my listening station? We should be able to intercept their vocal communications at this range easily!”

  The smallest member of the team by far, Lylith was the only orb weaver in the group as well. Her abilities with silken spellcraft made her invaluable, despite her feeble vision and fragile body.

  “Magical interference, captain…” The agitated web witch muttered, her frustration obvious to all. “There is some kind of privacy field or magical ward around that dwelling. I am unable to pierce it without creating a disturbance in the wardings. That would certainly alert them to our presence.”

  “They are already alert to your presence.” A sweetly modulated and very musical voice whispered in the common orb weaver speech of the Arachnean guilds… A deeply unfamiliar and alien voice, singing their language with the facility of a native.

  “I don’t mean to alarm you ladies, but you have been outfoxed by those ‘primates’ you are watching. Please consider your next actions very carefully.” The speaker continued, as it stepped out into the bright moonlight.

  /

  Barry Ward sat down on a boulder and strummed his guitar at the group of deeply uncomfortable arachnids gathered in the little clearing below him.

  “You ladies have been inside our outer perimeter wards this whole time. We’ve been listening in on you for a little while and we’d like to thank you for not rushing into anything stupid.” He remarked, his educated and refined orb weaver dialect ringing out loud, clear and nicely accented.

  “How is it that you have learned our speech, human male?” Thris demanded sharply, sensing a tone from this fragile and deeply annoying hominid creature.

  “I’m not answering your questions. Suffice it to say that some of my companions understand your speech, while only a few of us are able to use the language with ease.” He answered stiffly, strumming an aggressive D minor chord. “My people are currently engaged in a conflict elsewhere; as such, we don’t have time or the inclination to satisfy your curiosity. Send an envoy to the count if you want to establish relations… We are a warband on a mission, not politicians or merchants.”

  “Some of us are merchants…” Wilf strummed on a baritone acoustic, from his place higher on the hillside, where he and Rio waited with three bikes, carefully out of sight.

  “Wilf… you’re killing me here! You can barter another time!” Barry insisted, sounding exhausted, even through his instrument.

  “But…” The big lad began, his chords silenced by a sharp drum roll from Rio.

  “Can it Wilf…” The lanky young warrior grumbled in human speech, since he couldn’t be bothered to be polite to the interloping spiders. “Let’s finish up and head back home; I’m done messing around with these dames.”

  “My brothers urge me to complete our task and depart…” Barry informed his deeply uncomfortable audience of militant spiders. “We only stuck around to tell you what’s going on. You have intruded on our territory without permit or apology, threatened my family and made yourselves a minor nuisance at a time we can ill afford such distractions.” He scolded the group of awkward arachnids from his seat in the rocky hillside above them.

  “If you wish to establish relations with the local authorities, you will find the count’s castle down this road, above the lake. We will be departing now. Do not attempt to delay or intercept us; we will reply with force if threatened again.”

  A moment later, the sound of distant movement reached the acute hearing of the eight legged ladies; a soft whirring and quiet clatter, as if something or somethings were swiftly flying down the mountainside.

  The keen eyed among the rescue team spotted several human figures and an equine on the road below; a mile away, waiting for their three comrades, straddling odd machines. Those humans emerged from the woods, mounted on strange constructs of artifice and the whole group swiftly vanished down the long, smooth path.

  Down in the clearing, no house or garden remained, just a wide circle of rich, dark soil and a subtle sense on the wind that something extraordinary had lingered there for a time.

  Kylie stood in the empty space, looking up at the gathered Arachneans in displeasure. “I was on the cusp of establishing cordial relations with those beings!” She scolded the already upset and anxious rescue party. “Now you’ve tangled up and spoilt a delicate working!”

  “Web-Tangles!” Thris strummed angrily, glaring with all eight eyes at the place where the human party disappeared down the road.

  /