Chapter 12
The Tangled Web
by Daniel Olarnick
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From the top of the mountain, twin watchtowers jutted out, marking the entrance to the Black Dragon Inn, where their journey would end. A strange journey, indeed, thought Ebon, reflecting upon his good fortune, now that their destination loomed ahead of them -- less than three days travel, down the mountain's dwavern carved road, he thought, judging from the smoke rising behind the twin towers that jutted out directly ahead of them.
Ebon knew the moment they reached the Black Dragon Inn, Karl Strange's mandate that no harm shall befall a guest of his inn would afford the scribe the chance he would need to survive an attack by Utre, should the Relic not pass into the possession of the Scribal Priesthood.
Still, three days left, traveling through this wilderness – this was a dangerous journey. Dragons flew overhead, swooping down, carrying off large male bisons, their bellowing heard for miles and miles.
Mystical events had occurred -- of that, he was certain. He had seen magic incantations performed before – somewhere in his long-lived life, now a long, forgotten past.
Water surged up into the air -- momentarily suspending itself -- as the great white beast, Bijou, emerged from the depths of the raging waters of Nymph Falls – The master is in danger.
Bijou shook his huge body - a blue-white gemstone living within his chest flashed brilliantly in the reflection of the noontime sun.
Bijou sniffed the air to catch Odan's scent. It assured him that the scribe had traveled down the winding rock-strewn road, south, to the Black Dragon Inn.
He dipped his muzzle into the frothing waters and retrieved the crystal skull he had hidden in the water's edge. Holding the skull between his jaws, he ambled down the road after Odan, and the silver-skinned changing called Ebon Grupe and the Prince of Trolls.
"I must hurry," thought The Bijou, "the young one dies within the skull."
The Howling Beast saw the scene in his mind, as he had for that blasted eternity of crystallized living: The scribe knelt down, spread out his arms in welcome, a warm smile upon his face. He held the white dog around its neck, and began talking to the beast, calling out his name in hushed, affectionate tones. Odan wiped a tear from his eye, "My wonderful beast, how good to hold you around again."
"Scribe, can we pit the beast? Surely nothing could best him," asked Ebon, visions of gold, silver, and precious gems crossed his mind.
"Oh, don't listen to the bad man, my wonderful Bijou. He only jests," soothed Odan, as if the dog's feelings had been hurt, thought Ebon.
"I meant, put him to stud. What warrior wouldn't want this dog's offspring at his side in battle? We'd make a fortune on his pups," said Ebon, quick to follow up on his thoughts.
The huge white beast placed his head over the scribe's shoulder, and panted heavily with obvious joy at the scribe's touch and voice.
"He is back," thought the dog, "I must protect him to my death."
"He'll cause trouble wherever he goes,” said Ebon. “Warriors will battle over him,"
Odan paused, "Looking like this, yes," said Odan, "but like this, he represents a threat to no one."
A crafty smile came across Odan's face, as he reached down to rub the gemstone in the dog's chest. The illusion of a small, white minstrel's dog enveloped the beast.
"Now, who would look to hurt a poor defenseless dog such as yourself?" asked Odan, patting the beast on his huge head.
How many times had that scene been repeated, over and over, century, after century?
Odan smiled, thought back to a time long since passed, when as a foundling he had been thrown into a pit filled with starved and howling beasts that surrounded him -- death was near -- only to have the Bijou appear by his side in deadly defense of him.
Poor Ebon, if only he understood. Nevertheless, he will come to understand. It was written within the living gemstones, untold possible futures, gemstones that Odan must carry with him when he meets Moultrance - to settle a debt older than the beginning of time itself.
*
"Ebon, over there,” shouted the scribe, pointing towards a glistening spider web. "There's a messenger spider – "I have a message it is to deliver."
Ebon Grupe watched in astonishment as the scribe sat down on the ground, crossed his legs in front of him and levitated. He stared directly into the shimmering web. Its fangs dripped with a deadly poison.
The lad's daft, thought Ebon, fooling with that deadly creepy web crawler .
Within the scribe's clasped hands a gemstone appeared. The scribe lifted the gem into the air, slightly above his head.
The crystal suspended itself, rotated and musical tones came from within it. The gem hovered between the scribe and the spider. It began to sway up and down. Cascades of light escaped from it encircling them.
Utre's howls could be heard for miles around.
The scribe's lips move, as if he were speaking, but no sound came from his mouth. Ebon half expected the damn arachnid to talk in response, but heard no words escaping from its maw.
*
The spinning crystal continued to sing its song, as it floated in the air.
The spider shot out a silken web-stream, encased the gemstone, drew it in, gathered it between its hind legs, and sped off into the forest.
"Wait," cried out Ebon, "the gem – where did you get it – it was worth a fortune – we need -- why did you allow the spider to take it?"
"To tell its Queen that it is time to repay an old debt," said the scribe,” but I can reveal no more to you. As you know, that is forbidden. Now forget."
"I know," sighed Ebon, shrugging his shoulders, nodding his head in disappointed agreement.
The dictums of the Scribal Priesthood, he thought, and his memories cleansed.
The black widow spider scurried off into the forest. The blue-black crystal gem held securely between its hind legs.
"Imagine a human who speak Arachnid," she thought. "They never will believe that back at the mother-web."
The spider kept hearing the pleasant tones coming from the gemstone, singing a story that was beyond her understanding, but surely a tale that Queen Vespoisona's emissary, Egeria, would decipher.
A great honor surely awaited her. Perhaps Queen Vespoisona, herself, would consume her, only to be born again as a full bodied, warm-blooded web-walker, a seducer and eater of men.
“The Omniscient Voice: Within the vast caverns of Nymph Falls, through Fyrestorm Mountains, into the many paths of the Vent, stood the webbed city of Queen Vespoisona.
Egeria, emissary of Queen Vespoisona, first daughter in a line of deadly succession, glided through the main web room.
She had chosen her human form to appear before Queen Vespoisona, knowing that it pleased Vespoisona to appear weak and fragile in her presence.
One must never to appear as a challenge to the rule and might of my mother, the Queen.
The main web chamber - silken bundles of waiting death, those poor captured treasure seekers had foolishly wandered into her lair, awaited their death
First, they would mate with the queen -- and then their decapitation.
How often had they heard her words before the awful sounds of a comrade - forced to perform an abomination -- filled their ears with moans and screams of passion, followed by cries of fear, and pain, and blessed death.
"Can you walk the webs?" she would whisper, while in her human form - of course they could not -- only one man in the history of the web-walkers had – Odan the Scribe!
“That,” said The Omniscient Voice, “is perfectly clear, is it not?
*
"Egeria, what a pleasant surprise. Have you have filled our web with provisions?"
"A pack of night-stalkers - hyrillas -- are being prepared for dinner right now. A battle ensued. It was brief once their pack leader was consumed.”
"Hyrillas in Talos Valley! Karnak's personal protectors! They're sure to be after Strange. We'll feast well in the Web during the coming months," said the Spider Queen.
"My very thoughts, Mother - err, my Queen -" corrected Egeria, remembering her mother's wrath at times, when being referred to in a matronly manner.
"Your father was a tactful being, too -- for an elf. A great ambassador he fancied himself as. He was sent down to negotiate with me - rather crafty those elves – but he showed great promise in learning to walk the web - but failed."
Vespoisona sighed from the memory. "He lasted a number of years --"
"Until one night, during a display of your magnificent rage, you caused him to lose his head over you," stated Egeria, her thoughts going back to the time she stood witness to her father's failed attempt at learning to walk the webs, and his beheading.
"Yes," said Vespoisona, as if reading Egeria's mind, "And then you feasted upon him, gaining his humanity along with his structure."
"Yes, my Queen. I owe you everything to you for making me what I am today: The oldest surviving daughter of Queen Vespoisona, Mistress of the Web of Death."
"And don't you forget it, my sweet, virginal beauty. Perhaps one day you will inherit this all," said Vespoisona, as she held all eight arms out, pointing out her wealth.
Then a golden light began to glow from the giant spider-beast, as Vespoisona transformed herself into her female form. A sigh of relief from was drawn from Egeria, knowing that Vespoisona rarely kills her own offspring while in human form.
"Come, sit beside your dear mother - do we not look like sisters - except for your elven features, that is. Makes you look a bit like your father. Fortunately for you, you inherited my beauty."
"Of which I am eternally grateful."
"Well, that's what we mommies are for - except when having their children for breakfast, that is. Now, tell me, what brings you here so late in the day?"
“Now, tell me, dear Egeria, what brings you here so late in the day?"
"This creature," Egeria said, gesturing towards a black-widow spider, which she held in her hand, "has brought you a present, my Queen, a cut-and faceted gemstone --"
"A gemstone!" exclaimed Vespoisona, in a bemused tone, "What need have I of another gemstone? Look around you, I already have a fortune in gold, diamonds and gemstones."
"This one sings a song of Promises to be Kept," Egeria paused, enjoying her moment of glee, "of a Scribe and a Queen."
Egeria pried the gemstone away from the tightly clenched legs of a black-widow spider that reeled about in an intoxicated state from the musical sound that had flowed from within the crystal.
Egeria held the gleaming crystal up to the light, letting it fall from her delicate hand, and watched as it suspended itself in the air.
The gemstone began to spin slowly, change its shape and color; psychic tones began to form within their minds.
"Odan!" shrieked Vespoisona, poison dripping from her fangs, her hand involuntarily stroking the side of her rising breasts; she felt a warm flush fill her lower body.
"No, it cannot be. Perhaps he has tricked another human into a transfer of his essence. But it cannot be Odan the Scribe, himself, in the flesh. Never! I do not believe it!" she bellowed aloud, yet her voice was soft and tender.
"I have listened to its song, my Queen. It claims its message is that of Odan the Scribe. It speaks of a promise...of a time long, long ago...and speaks of the long-lost Broach of the Web Walkers and its whereabouts."
The Omniscient Voice: Vespoisona, her fury rising, grabbed for one of the bundles of silk that lined her web, contained within it, living beings. She had encased them within silken cocoons for breeding and consumption.
The captured being felt himself being lifted, and moaned aloud. He feared his fate.
Had he been selected to be the Queen's next lover?
Never mind. Fate smiled down upon the captured warrior decided to be benevolent and grant him a quicker, kinder death.
Vespoisona lifted the warrior high above her head, battering him onto her chamber's floor, then she swung the dying male around by his feet, she let him fly from her grasp to crash into the walls of her web room. The blow broke his neck, but he did not die! The silken cocoon held his head tightly in place as his prayers for death filled the web-room with his sounds of pain.
The second blow came swiftly and with equal fury. As the adventurer's life began to escape his battered body, she picked him up again, flung his still conscious form across her web-room and bashed his head into a web-lined wall.
The silken cocoon that encased the dead warrior turned scarlet red. Vespoisona ran across the room, grabbing him by his legs, and continued smashing his lifeless form, breaking the mirrors and fragile glass goblets that surrounded her bedroom.
She breathed heavily from her exertions, which aroused her to a deeper fury; her feminine form now coated with a shiny silken perspiration that radiated from her skin. She disposed of two more of the quivering bundles of silk before her fury abated.
*
Egeria stepped back – smiling, but holding her breath --- but not fearing her mother's wrath. She had half expected it. “Hmm, the mere mention of the scribe's name.”
Perhaps now is the time, she thought, while mother is exhausted and weakened...perhaps now was the time to strike.
*
"Ah, I feel better now, my beautiful emissary. What do I care for the telling of a legend -- the myth of a man long since dead? Go ahead, let the crystal spin its tale; let it tell of the other place where my great-great grandmother lived and loved," said Vespoisona.
"As did mine," whispered Egeria, under her breath, as she anticipated a glimpse of the ancient past, of another world that no longer existed.
"Here it is," muttered Vespoisona, "we shall prove it to be a fake." Vespoisona reached into the nucleus of the mother web, extracted a gold jewel encased box. Opening it, she withdrew the mate of the gemstone that still twirled above Egeria's head.
Vespoisona tossed the matching crystal across the room. She watched in astonished disbelief as it suspended itself into the air, gyrated, twisted and turned. " Could it truly be a message from Odan...alive...in the vessel of his own flesh? "
The gemstone streaked across the main web-room and joined with the other crystal. They encircled each other. Rays of energy escaped from within them and bathed the web-room with a slivery luminescence. Then the gemstones coupled and formed as one.
The spinning crystal began to sing its song to Vespoisona and Egeria. The web-room filled with clouds of energy as it sung of a time long ago when a scribe named Odan lived and loved; when tangled webs wove themselves into a never-ending story of love, honor, horror and betrayal.
*
The Omniscient Voice: “The crystal sang its song of a time long since past.”
*
Egeria the Emissary and Virgin Princess of Vespoisona, Queen of the Web Walkers...her image emerged from the rays of the spinning crystal, as the past merged with the present.
Muffled cries of fear could be heard coming from cocoons of silk that bounded behind Egeria.
"Hush now. No one can hear you." She cooed. Her soothing, silken voice drove silent terror into the minds of the captives who lay encased within her trailing and tethered silken cocoons.
"Egeria, my precious. Welcome home. Our web is warmed by your presence," said Vespoisona, "What insights do you bring me from the land of the one-shaped beings and those delicious humans?
"I bring you wonderful gifts, my Queen: Twin male creatures from each of the races, humans, dwarves and elves. They are quite unusual and a cache of gold, diamonds and gems."
"How did you come by these wonderful baubles?" Did you break any of their laws? You know how angry they get when we break their laws,"
Vespoisona stretched her arms over her head, fluffing her black hair, letting it tumble down her sleek, hard and slender body.
"A scribe told me I could call them the 'spoils of war,' as I was on the side of good -- or so that is what the scribe explained."
"I see. And how easily did you manage to move among the warring factors?"
"Quite easily. I was never forced to change this human form.”
“The scribe, he introduced me to Karl Strange, grandmother's slayer --"
"Karl Strange was there? For what reason?"
"A game of cards!”
"Who else? Come now -- Where is the Broach of the Web-Walkers," demanded Vespoisona in mid-sentence, suddenly aware the fabulous broach was not being worn by Egeria.
"Why the scribe has it, of course," said Egeria, a slight tremble taking over her body as she saw the anger rising in her mother.
"I do not understand." Vespoisona said, as poison began to appear from her fangs.
"The broach is the symbol of our being, of our lands, of our right to --"
"I too do not comprehend what happened. I followed the path that Fate placed before me. I met Strange -- it is quite odd that a human was able to defeat and murder grandmother. Don't you think she could have squashed him?
“Oh, well, I handed him the Black Crystal Shard of Fate, then he placed it and the Broach into the Cup of Chance, I bet with the scribe. He had an aura about him --"
"You bet our symbol with a scribe? Not Odan the Scribe?"
"The very same. He told me it was a symbolic game. I did not understand, but felt compelled to carry out the dictates you placed upon me."
"What dictates?"
"You ordered me to go to the Plateau of the Dragons, to represent our race; to discover what was taking place there. I did as you instructed."
"Did I tell you to gamble the symbol of our family, The Broach of the Web-Women?"
"It represented our interest in the game. The crystal shard, you handed it to me. I did as you told me. It was you, yourself, that went into the deep chambers of our web and brought forth the broach, our symbolic treasure. Don't you remember?"
"No!"
"Yes. Why else would I be in possession of it? Vespoisona -- mother, please do not change. I did as you told me to do."
Vespoisona had changed into her natural form, poisonous dull yellow fluid dripped from her fangs. Egeria knew that the next few moments would determine whether she lived or died.
"Mother, don't you remember. Why would you give me the Broach? Why would you send me to The Plateau? Surely, you had hidden reasons. I told Odan he would be responsible, personally responsible to you."
Vespoisona resumed her womanlike shape, beckoning her daughter and adviser to continue.
"Perhaps it was the shard."
"I assume Odan won," Vespoisona sighed with deep resignation at her only living daughter's faultless logic and maturing and filling body.
"Of course. You should have seen the aura surrounding him. It was wonderful. A truly unique experience," Egeria intoned.
"If he won, why don't you have our symbol with you?"
"He told me, the game was not truly over -- yet."
"I trust you understand that you are responsible for its return."
"Yes, my Queen."
"He is a rather delicious man, Odan, is he not, Egeria?"
"I barely noticed."
"Really? You surprise me, child. I first saw him in the moonlight, one starless night -- a pack of hyrillas had surrounded him. They had killed the rest of his group -- simply overwhelmed them -- but somehow he had survived.”
“There he stood, Odan the Scribe, the lone survivor -- and that ferocious howling beast of his, The Bijou. I was shocked to see him in the conflict. Scribes are not supposed to be warriors who engage in battle, you know.
“Nevertheless, there he was, in the midst of the battle. I remember his long black hair flowing behind his rather handsome face, his muscular yet lithe body --that Angelwood staff he carries, raised high above his head. The blade of the Naginata, honed and sharpened to a razor's edge, flashing in the moonlight. What a superb figure he made as he twirled the staff above his head. You could hear its fearsome slashing sound as it filled the valley with its song of death."
She sighed with passion and continued on, watching the reaction of her daughter as she conveyed her account of her first meeting with Odan the Scribe.
"Killing and slashing at the night stalkers with deadly precision. He made a princely figure in his black scribal garments. A marvelous male vision."
Vespoisona breasts heaved upward with deep and passionate inhalation as she paused. "What an evening of ecstasy coupled with a spectacular bloodthirsty night that was.
“I remember how his body glistened, later, in the moonlight with his exertions. He will be a wonderful breeder, as he was a lover. Don't you think so, my precious virginal child?"
Vespoisona looked deeply into Egeria's eyes searching, looking for a sign that would bring an act punishable by instant death.
"I would not know anything about breeding, my Queen," sighed Egeria. Her eyes lowered to the ground, a red flush covered her face.
"He is all that, Egeria, and more. Trust me. No human ever walked the web with greater agility.
“However, you shall learn of him and his skills, I promise you that. But for now, I would be interested in hearing his explanation of why he has not returned my broach to me to me. Find him."
"Yes, of course. Shall I have these bundles brought to your breeding chamber?"
"Yes, I am truly delighted that you remembered."
"And these gems?"
"Add them to my personal treasure-trove."
*
The crystal spinning singing crystal, slowed, remaining motionless in the air. The lights emitting from the suspended gemstone continued to convey its message of light, from a long, dead and forgotten world.
"We will honor our debts," commanded Vespoisona in a hushed whisper. You will swallow the gemstone, digest it, and allow its essence and hardness to saturate your silken threads. Make the Scribe his clothes.
Egeria reached up towards the suspended gemstone, held it in her hand, threw back her head...tears rolled from her eyes. The crystal sang its final stanza from within her body.
The Omniscient Voice: " And he shall be bestowed with enhanced garments woven from a virgin princess! "
Egeria felt herself swoon. Black crystalline silken fibers began to emanate from her body.
The image of the man, of Odan the Scribe, impassioned her mind and guided her silken flow.
She moaned lightly and then filled the web-room with her sounds of passion as Vespoisona's handmaidens withdrew the silken garments from Egeria's body; pants, shirt, slash, cape, facial mask, all flowed forth from her body as one silken garment that would fit the image of the man that made love to her mind.
*
Her moans filed the inner depths of the web-walker's catacombs, they echoed throughout the underground cavern.
Vespoisona streaked down to the center of the massive ancient web, woven by generation of web-wakers, gathered her daughter in her arms, holding her around, as if she were a fragile child, to be protected, or perhaps as a prospective lover.
Vespoisona whispered softly into the ears of her swooning daughter, sighing softly.
She told her child of the love the three of them would share, of how Odan the Scribe would walk the Webs once again, of the progeny they would produce together, the three of them.
She thought of the royal families of Web-Walkers who would rule the known kingdoms ... if only Odan still retained the broach … and of the plan he had conceived so many eons ago... but first the gemstone in which to free the spider women from their breeding encumbrances imposed upon them by sorcery.
***
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