Book 2, Chapter 14: Day Seven: A Feast Of Sorts

It was hard to get out of bed this morning, for we continued long and late last night, to make up for lost time the memorial required. Probably everyone was feeling it, but we had little choice. Worse for the weaponsmith. Smoke from his wagon rose long into the night, working on the arrows I’d asked him for.

Today’s breakfast brought bad news. The scouts we’d left behind to watch the bridge had returned. Well, some of them. Those who made it reported that a large army crossed the river and were almost certainly following us.

“Yes,” Brundle was saying, “probably 30 000 strong.”

“I know I suggested it before,” said Rand, “but I don’t think it’s wise we face them. Our only hope is to press on at a high pace and make past the bridge before their other army can trap us there.”

“Yeah. That seems our only option. Is a sixteen-hour march feasible?”

“We can try, but it’s unlikely we can clear and repair the road fast enough, even assigning more troops. The danger being that we end up spreading our army far forward, possibly into their advanced scouting parties, even cavalry units.”

“And the danger of more sorcerers,” I added. We were all thinking it. “Well, that just means I’ll have to ride out in front to clear out the mages.”

Everyone sat upright, “No, Your Highness, not a good idea,” started Brundle, Rand and Gun nodding, Morry smirking. He was the only one who’d caught the joke.

“I wasn’t serious.” They calmed down. I sipped some tea. Bad joke I guess.

“Our road engineers are working at the limits of our mage’s protection.”

“I don’t follow. You mean in the, ah, concealment magic they have going?”

“Not only that,” explained Etienne, “but warding magic.” I gave him a blank stare. “Other nasty creatures, like the strangler tree-”

“Monsters?”

“You can call them that. Our magic diverts them away from us. So, we can’t add more engineers safely. They’d be in danger of getting attacked.”

“By monsters?” I was not quite believing this. No idea why. I mean, here I was in the body of a young girl, I’d killed a sorcerer a few nights past. Why not add monsters to the whole thing? Sure, monsters! “Wait a sec, hold on, if there are monsters . . . what about pterodactyls? Dinosaurs?” Maybe that would explain the large airplane-thing that I’d seen.

“Excuse me, what are those?”

“Well, a few days ago, maybe a week, when we first started out, I saw an enormous, uh, flying creature.” I was going to say ‘object,’ but they wouldn’t understand. “Above the clouds.”

“Possibly a wyvern.”

“I’m sorry, what is that?”

“It’s like a small dragon, but less intelligent and without forelimbs.”

“Huh. Ok. So, a giant bat.”

“No, not quite. More like a giant, flying lizard.”

“We’re back to pterodactyls, then.” Seeing their faces, I added, “Never mind. A wyvern . . . I see. Excuse me, did you say there are dragons?”

“I said it was like a small dragon.”

“That means dragons exist here.”

“Exceedingly rare, Your Highness, nothing to get worried about. You almost certainly did not see a dragon.”

“I see. Thank you.” I guess it wasn’t a slow suborbital or a passenger plane then. I’d been half hoping, despite it not making any sense. A rescue! Nope, just some winged monster.

***

Brundle had, and Morry agreed with him, kept the royal tents – my tents – in the middle of the moving army. When we camped at night, middle. While riding, and training, they made sure I wouldn’t be too near the front or back. Until this morning’s discussion about, I’d figured it was for fear of enemy attack. Turns out, it’s monsters.

“Cayce, you have to see this!” Brinley rode up to me, training with my spear as I walked. It was a few hours after dinner, several hours until we stopped for the night.

I looked up, “What is it?”

“Oh, it’s beastly! Just awful. You really have to see it!”

“Yeah?” I took my horses reins off the wagon it was following and got on. It was easier than last week, that’s for sure. Yet I envied how easily Brin turned her horse around, how comfortable she was in the saddle. “What is it?”

“Just come!” she galloped off toward the front of our army.

I followed. It looked like a traffic jam. Wagons slowing down one by one, in a wave heading backwards, the entire train grinding to a halt. Up ahead there were a mass of men around a bonfire, walking around with torches and placing them on the ground. In the daytime, torches. That piqued my interest.

As we got closer, the bonfire turned out to be shaped like a U around a hole in the ground. Tread was there, standing and holding his horse. Brin must have been riding with him. He took my reins when we got there and I jumped off.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s a trapdoor spider. Killed one of the men.”

“What?! Jesus, how big is this thing?”

Brin took me by the hand, “Let’s go take a look!”

“Your Highness,” Gun shouted loud enough for most of the men to look, bow, and stare, “it’s safe now. The spider is dead. We’ll have the meat prepared for you by supper.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We want to see it!” Brin took a hold of my hand, dragging me forward.

The hole in the ground was sloped. Like a cave going into the ground. A thick layer of wild grass roots, perhaps a foot deep, held up the ceiling. Soldiers were inside, waving torches around. I gasped and squeezed Brin’s hand tightly – a spider leg as thick as a man’s arm, brown and full of bristles, lay in front of my feet.

“Cayce, it’s ok. The thing’s dead. Come on,” she pulled me forward.

I’d unconsciously frozen at the horror before me. In the shallow of the slope, long legs jutted out from a fat, bulbous and hairy thorax, two large globular eyes stared up at us from its head, four little globes along a ridge, two behind. It was the size of a horse. Dagger like fangs, each a foot long, from its mouth. One twitched, curling inward. I jumped, “Jesus!” and backed up, into Gun.

“It’s dead, my lady. Dying. Can’t harm anyone now.”

“How the hell are spiders this big?” I tried not to scream.

“With all the fighting, these are able to move around the countryside more easily than usual.”

“There are more of them?” The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up, I barely noticed Gun’s hands on my shoulders, his body pressed up against mine. I guess he was trying to calm me down, but he was really preventing me from bolting.

“Yeah, Cayce,” said Brin. “Usually, the army clears these things out every summer. At least along the common roads. And the farms, can’t let these get too near a ranch.”

“You see the fire?” Gun, arm over my shoulder, touching my cheek, directed my attention to it, “Placed around the hole in a u-shape. Here,” he walked out in front, down the slope, “we place pikemen here, spears planted toward the entrance. Then, we light the trap on fire, throw a torch in, the spiders always rush straight out and into the pikes.”

“But it killed a man?”

He became somber, “Yes, my lady. He wasn’t paying attention. Came out here to relieve himself. Away from the train.”

“How awful!”

“You see here?” He pointed under the spider, between its legs. I swear I saw one of them move. I was just waiting for it to suddenly curl around Gun, sink its fangs deep into his body, injecting its digestive fluids, drinking from him to refresh itself, then come after us. “A soft spot, its lungs are under here. That’s where you aim the pikes. Kills them very quickly.”

“Cayce . . . Cayce!” Brin shook my hand, “You are really pale. And cold. Are you ok?”

“I gotta, I gotta go sit down for a sec, Brin.” I turned and walked a bit away, sat down in the grass and concentrated on my breathing.

“Princess,” Morry came walking up, sat beside me, “you have to let me know when you’re leaving my side.”

“I just. I’m sorry, Brin . . . a giant spider. She . . . wanted me to see it.”

“Oh, that’s what all this commotion is about.” He looked over, “Yeah, that’s how you kill them. Anyone get hurt?”

“One soldier got taken.” Over by the spider, Gun and Brin were walking around it, excitedly talking.

“That’s a shame. It’s dead, you can calm down now.”

“I’m trying!” Breathing, breathing. “Sorry. I just, I didn’t know spiders got that big. It’s horrifying.”

“Surely you’ve seen them before? No? Well, it’s true, you’ve got to get the meat out soon after you kill it. I guess they didn’t bring the whole spider to your dinner table at the castle.”

“No, never seen the whole thing before. Wait. Dinner? We eat these things?”

“Best meat in the kingdom! A true delicacy.”

I felt sick, decided to change the topic. “What are those men doing? With the torches.”

“Burning the rest of the webs off the ground and looking to see if there’s a male around.”

“Maybe, hey, maybe we should head back to the middle of the train. Get some sword practice in while we’re stopped.” I stood up. “You know what? I’m going to just jog down there. You, ah, fetch the horses. Beside the wagons. I’ll keep close to the wagons.”

The big man smiled as he stood up and I ran off, clinking a bit in my armor, exercise helping enormously.

***

“Lungs,” I said. “Spiders, normal spiders, don’t have lungs. They have trachea that transport oxygen into their bodies.” Nighttime had come, the train had stopped, and we were just about to eat dinner. I mean, supper. Supper at night, dinner in the daytime, I reminded myself.

“Trachea? Ox-i-jen?”

“Yeah. Like pipes. Little pipes that transport oxygen – air, the stuff we all breathe – into the body. But something that size, trachea wouldn’t be enough. They evolved lungs. That’s crazy.” Being clinical helped me deal with the whole giant spiders eat people thing. Not to mention the people eat giant spiders thing.

“Yeah, Cayce, they have lungs,” said Brin.

“That’s where you stab them,” added Tread.

As usual, the bodyguards and us girls sat down to have our dinner, a bit of ale, then off to sleep. Or a meeting, if necessary. Brundle had called one for tonight.

Two men walked up, one carrying a silver platter, what I’d assumed was the spider-meat. I tried not to shudder. New world, new foods. New experiences. Lots and lots of those. Some unwanted. Many, if I’m being honest, many unwanted.

“Your Highness,” said the first man, who turned to Brin, “my lady, may I present today’s specialty?”

The other man placed the platter in front of us, lifted it off. One of the giant fangs was curled along the edge of the plate. In front of it were several cubes of white meat, lemons, green onions and a bunch of short, red stems for garnish.

Morry, standing, said, “This is one of the men who slayed the spider, Princess.”

“It’s an honor to present its meat to you, my lady.”

I rose, curtsied and offered him my hand, trying not to be queasy, “Thank you for ridding the world of its horrible presence.”

“My lady.” They bowed and left.

“Cayce, try it!” Brin was already holding her fork.

I braced myself and took a portion. What could I do? They were waiting for me. “Alright. Huh. It tastes like lobster.”

“Exactly!”

We shared the dish around the table and that was that. Who knew? Well, everyone but me, I guess. And the Yanomami back where I came from. They eat spiders, too.

“What are the red stems?”

“Huh? Those are pickled ginger. Yum!”

I tried one and, well yeah, it was great, too.

***

Brundle started the meeting. “Our rear scouts are reporting the enemy scouting parties pressing forward. The army is approaching from our rear as quickly as they can.”

Rand added, “We have no choice but to continue at our present pace.”

“Moving to a faster pace isn’t a good idea?”

“It’s not possible, I’m afraid. We’d outrun our baggage train if we did. We’d essentially be leaving it for the pursuing army.”

“I see. How far are we from the bridge?”

“We should be able to reach it tomorrow, perhaps by midafternoon.”

“We’re close then. Any news from forward scouts?”

“None yet. They’ll report in tomorrow morning.”

“Assuming they’re still alive.” What, with giant spiders and hungry trees, being a scout must be a terrifying job.

“Yes, assuming they’re still alive.”

I asked Etienne, “Are we still concealed from the enemy?”

“As best we can, Your Highness. And they, unfortunately, from us. But their scouting parties see ours just as easily. We don’t have enough mages to conceal those. So, they know roughly the same kind of information we have on them, that we’re ahead and moving as quickly as we can forward.”

“Can you see anything at the river crossing?”

“What awaits us at the bridge is, too, concealed.”

“I guess we have no choice but to continue pressing on and hope for the best. No news from Castle Bechalle?”

“Unfortunately, no. It’s possible our messengers made to the duke but couldn’t make it back. We should be prepared for an army waiting for us.”

“That makes sense.” Nothing had changed with this information. We’d been rushing toward this bridge expecting an army to be ready for us there and we had no choice but to do so. “Alright, we continue. Let me know if our situation changes. Thank you, gentlemen.”