Born a Monster

Chapter 111: Servant of the Axe, 11 – Spider Hunt

Servant of the Axe

Chapter 11

Spider Hunt

I had been expecting brown or black spiders, but these were a beige color with pinkish to red markings on the upper side of their abdomen.

“Halooo!” I tried calling.

I didn’t understand the shouts that came back, but their overall meaning was obvious.

“The gods love you, Kismet. We seem to be here just in time.”

.....

She made a little squeaky noise, and trembled with pent-up energy.

“Remember, everyone, form up in the shallows. This is a hunt, not a race.”

Thuron cleared his throat. “Might I give orders to my crew, ambassador?”

I lowered my head. “Of course, Thuron. The hunting formation is yours to command.”

“As the ambassador says. No casualties. We are eating them, not providing them food.”

A variety of ayes and other answers responded.

From the village, a cry in Furdian. Thuron informed them we needed the gate opened.

Apparently, the village secured their doors with a hempen rope. Loose enough that an outsider could walk up, take it off the hook, and open the gate on their own.

“So trusting.” Kismet said.

Thuron took point of a five-person wedge around Kismet. During the day, she didn’t carry a torch, but instead kept watch.

There were only three spiders in the village, and none of them escaped.

The village pigs were small and drained; there were no survivors.

Thirteen huts of villagers and two adventurers were saved that day. I’ll get into names later.

When the second hunting party arrived, we began clearing the jungle to the foraging grounds.

I say foraging grounds, but it was a combination of farm-size garden and free-growth orchard.

During the day, the team picked off individual spiders, when they didn’t just run.

The natives, dark pink to brownish of skin tone, returned triumphant to find the spiders cooking over fires. It must have seemed like divine salvation to them.

We covered security while the natives gathered water, firewood, and other essentials of life. One poor woman had left her laundry out for two days, and needed to re-wash it.

Husks, human and animal, were consigned to the flames.

Near dusk, the longboats began ferrying the crew to the island for shore leave, which seemed to be just an excuse to drink, dance, and otherwise make merry.

Elkenmoor nibbled at his spider, and then happily gave it away to those who hadn’t sampled it yet.

The spiders began coming with increasing frequency.

“There is no end to them.” Thuron complained.

“Yes, we should start rotating crew back to the ship.” I said.

The natives took the hint, and began returning to their village.

“Rhishi, we need to spend the night.”

“Why?” asked Thuron.

I sighed. “You feel the natives need us present?”

“What? No. I want to meet the adventurers.”

I extended a hand to Thuron. “That was a good day’s work. I suppose I should inform the captaine.”
Captaine Levemont was not pleased. “One night and the next day, ambassador. We cannot stay longer. The crew needs a proper shore leave.”

#



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The survivors of the dozen adventurers who had thought to hunt spiders were called Diamond Jaek Hoarfrost, a Norvik with a beard of scraggly curls and metal rings, and Miss Lindsay Turner, woman explorer.

“They swarmed on the second night we were here.” Jaek said.

“We still don’t know why.” Miss Turner said. “Nor do we know why they haven’t swarmed since then.”

“We’ve been struggling just to clear the village.” Jaek said. “There are always more of them at night.”

In the distance, some woman started screaming rhythmically.

“Someone’s celebrating early.” Jaek said.

“These people have been without hope for three days. Of course, they have tensions to relieve.”

“If you have tensions...”

“No. Not at the current time. Thank you.”

I cleared my throat. “Might I ask, why are you here and not with the crew on board the ship?”

“When you leave, these people will need defenders.” Jaek said.

“We could be defenders, Rhishi.”

I sighed. “We’ll be doing more good to get to Boadicea’s Girdle quickly, and organize another party of adventurers. You two have been here longest, how many would you need to hunt the spiders to their caves?”

“As many as we can get.” Jaek said.

“I tend to agree.” Miss Turner said. “We would need thirty or so, perhaps half again that many to account for those needing time to heal from bites.”

I blinked my eyes, and Kismet beat me to forming words. “That’s more than the number of people in the village.”

“Indeed. How has Koputiki survived past swarmings?”

“Like cowards.”

“The villagers stockpile food, and wait for the spiders to turn on each other. They then buy pigs from the neighboring island, and set about recovering for the next cycle.”

“And they never kill off all the spiders?” Kismet asked.

“They worship the damn things.”

“Specifically, they worship Anansi.”

I rubbed my eyes.

“Anansi?” Kismet asked.

“God of spiders. I’m surprised the village has survived, even with his protection.” I said.

“Protection? Oh my, no. But nonetheless, they do worship him and beg him to keep his children eating each other.”

“Oh.” I said.

Kismet elbowed me. “Oh? Spill.”

“If this island is home to even one true Child of Anansi, then it or they regard the villagers as a herd for their children. It would also explain the swarming that the adventurers encountered.”

“Wait, you’re saying one or more of these spiders are Aware?” Jaek asked.

“I do believe that is exactly what our smaller companions are telling us. We should probably leave this island tomorrow.”

“Like cowards?”

“Like survivors.” I said. “At least gather a new set of hunters.”

“That would take a week. These people might not make it a week.”

“Rhishi, we could stay.”

I sighed. “I don’t know if that’s an option.”

“I counted, Rhishi. There’s five dozen people, and three.”

“If we get them assistance, that’s more than just the two of us alone can do.”

“Jaek is right. The world is full of cowards.”

#

.....

Painful as her words were, I had no problems falling asleep.

[Lucid Dreaming successful.]

With the guidance of Manajuwejet, I made my way to the Grove of Pongo.

“Ah, you again.”

“Me again.” I said.

“I have made inquiries. None of the local spirits want to go up against Anansi. He’s a spider god, actually in charge of that island, spiritually speaking.”

“I have come across that in the waking world.”

“Which one? Oh, the one we’re talking about, of course.”

“All right, can you at least tell me who claims what?”

“Oh, sure, sure. Your big players are the dragon and the kraken-spawn, but you knew that, right?”

A glimmering of colors appeared. Not the islands, but a representation of sacred spaces. The towns glittered like gemstones.

“The dragonwyr, here, and the coiled islands here. I’m surprised there are no leylines through the islands.”

A faint network of energy appeared, slightly beneath the map. “It’s weak. Something under the earth is diverting the energies.”

“Or under the sea?”

Pongo shrugged. “If so, then the kraken-spawn has competition.”

“So please understand that I don’t know everything, and that what I’m about to tell you could be mistaken.”

“I’m certain enough of it is right to at least be of assistance.”

“Okay, so what’s your next port of call?”

“Boadicea’s Girdle. The Manoran stronghold. Here.”

“Mongo’s Bowl.” Pongo said. “Pity about what happened to it. Vendol Man still survives there, but the new people worship their own gods. We’ve only seen the angel, Cassandra the Hangwoman.”

“Sounds like she’s not a charmer.”

“She’s not. She has support from other lands, and she bullies the proper deities.”

“I’m guessing she didn’t offer a reward for the recovery of Miss Lindsay Turner?”

“No, but she is going on about how even mortals should be able to solve the murder of Robert Ross. You want me to ask about that one?”

“Sure, let Manajuwejet know if there’s a quest available there. Anything else?”

“Not from the divine side. Unless you think you can remove her?”

Nope. Not enough Vanity score in the world. “I think we should focus on what tasks I can actually survive.”

“So, how long are you thinking of spending in the Isles?”

“I’m hoping to be done in two years, possibly three.”

Pongo twirled a piece of bamboo to his mouth. “You’d be surprised how long it takes to visit every mortal polity in the Isles. But sure, I’ll ask around about quickie quests.”

“Thank you, great Pongo.”

“De nada, mortal soul. Costs me nothing and lets me say hello to my neighbors.”

I notice that he said nothing about his commission, or whatever he got out of the deal.

Actually, how did the spirits negotiate? What did they barter?

I remember once, that Nastyman, a spirit of nightmares, tried to just take my painful emotions without asking...

“Hey.” Pongo said. “Please do that thinking elsewhere. This is my astral space.”

“Sorry.” I said.

#