Spider’s Lair

A Drood Story of Helike

               The waters churn as small whirlpools form and dissolve all across the Helike Harbor. Adeimantus, named for his Uncle the Corinthian General, curls his lip, observing the last 10 ships defiantly riding out the chop.

One of the traveling merchant girls asks "why don't the Spartans move?"

Why indeed he snorts. He knows it is simply because no one will make them. Spartans! He shakes his head derisively. Adeimantus quickly looks over his shoulder to see if anyone has observed his treasonous thoughts.

As assistant to Agathon, Captain of the city watch, Adeimantus must keep up the appearance of supporting these new methods of assimilation. Agathon is perhaps the worst part of all this- being a Spartan himself. Oh, he makes a formidable Captain of the Watch, to be sure. But he also has a voice on the council as an Archon and that simply won’t do. Everyone knows he is only biding his time until he can call for a full scale Spartan invasion. Assimilation is one thing, inviting a wolf in is something else. You simply can’t domesticate wolves, they always turn on you in the end. A scowl began to set in on Adeimantus’ face as he contemplated wresting Agathon’s position away from him.

 "What now Adeimantus? You are always so sour" An older foreign woman observes. He must have been grumbling to himself.

"Mind your business woman." he answers tersely, then deigns to elaborate, venting some vitriol, "of course you don't see a problem with 10 Spartan ships in the harbor while our Spartan Captain of the Guard looks the other way. Perhaps you would do well under Spartan rule, since they seem to think women are so capable."

"Spartans ARE intelligent,” Aesara teases, "but, the Athenians are the ones who really need convincing. I figure I'll set the example here and the Athenians will have to adopt our ways soon enough. Do you think you will get to serve under an Athenian Archon next?" Aesara asks, wide eyed and overly innocent.

"Don't be ridiculous woman." Adeimantus bristles, "Once we are free from Spartan influence, I will be the logical choice for Archon and Captain of the Guard. I am named for my Uncle, the Corinthian General after all. Any...Athenians..." he sneers, "will serve at my pleasure. But only after they have corrected their histories and restored my Uncle's illustrious name. Even then, why should I have them skulking about? Everyone knows they can't get their history right, everything they have is derivative of someone else’s hard work."

"Why don't you simply cover your own name with glory and stop worrying about a long dead Uncle?" Aesara encourages.

"What makes you think I am not?” Adeimantus finally turns his full attention to Aesara. "I have a plan. Things are about to change here in Helike. But I can't expect someone like you to be smart or swift enough to be part of the winning side. That's ok; people like you won't be a problem for us true Citizens of Helike for long. Of course, I could put your name on a list of servants to keep around- for a favor..."

"Adeimantus, your ambition and entitlement will get you killed one day" Aesara sighs as she turns on her heel and walks away from the terrace overlooking the harbor.

Adeimantus smiles to himself watching her go. Pythagoreans! They think they are so smart. Although she is attractive enough, he would really be lowering himself to spend any more time or effort on her. He probably won’t even remember her name in a few months.

 Still, putting up with her foolishness is just the goad he needed to stop dawdling about. The only way to save Helike from herself is to intervene. He does have a plan. And if he must deal with a woman to make it work- at least this one has actual Power. The philosophers have had their day, with all their nonsense. The time for words is over.

Ch 2

               "Hurry, Levi, I must be back before dawn." Adeimantus urges his most trusted house servant. "Remember, admit no one and do not tell anyone I have left the city. Did you get the casks of wine?

"Yes, Dominus" Levi answers, straightening the clasp on Adeimantus' traveling cloak.

"All right, enough fussing. Herostratus! Livius! Look sharp, we are off." Adeimantus calls to two rough looking men already mounted and clearly waiting on him to leave.

The three men leave through the rear servant’s entrance of the household, hoods up and silent. At the secondary gate to the city, Livius speaks with the night guard, passing him a pouch of coin. The guard chuckles and steps around the corner and into the vestibule- not even looking at the trio as they leave the city.

“Any problems Livius?” Adeimantus asks anxiously.

“No sir. He has already forgotten us.” Livius answers.

“Obviously, that’s what the coin was for Livius.” Adeimantus says irritably, “I meant did he recognize any of us?”

“No sir.” Livius answers stoically, giving the other rider a sidelong glance.

“Perhaps we should maintain our silence a bit longer sir, until we are farther from the city” Herostratus suggests quietly.

“Yes, yes. As you say.”  Adeimantus adjusts his hood and slouches down.

The two riders again exchange sidelong glances and sardonic smiles as they watch their employer try to be inconspicuous in his artfully torn and muddied cloak. Anyone that bad off certainly couldn’t afford a horse and two servants- but he wasn’t paying them to think, as he pointed out at every opportunity.

They rode in blessed silence for about an hour, keeping a steady but unrushed pace. At the edge of the hill forest Herostratus calls a halt, eyeing the terrain. The full moon illuminates a vague rough path to the treeline.

“This is the best spot to enter the forest. We’ll go for a couple of stadia on the track then it will be wilderness in the night. It will be easy to get lost or for your horse to turn an ankle- so just go slow and stay in the line behind me. If your horse goes where my Xanthos steps you should be fine.” Herostratus says, patting his chestnut horse fondly.

“Then let us be off. I must be back before dawn.” Adeimantus agrees and slides his dappled mare behind Herostratus and in front of Livius.

“She knows we are coming?” Adeimantus calls up to Herostratus. “I don’t want to travel all the way out here for nothing.”

“She knew as soon as we left the road. I told you before though, this will be dangerous. Neither of you were invited. Just because you present yourself to her doesn’t mean she will agree to help you raise your army.”

“She’ll agree. Or she’ll lose her precious grove. I’m a leading Citizen of Helike. I go where I will and I need no invitation to visit the forest outside my city.” Adeimantus mutters, “These tales I’ve heard had better not be exaggerations.”

“Well, you didn’t hear them from me Sir.” Herostratus is quick to point out, looking over his shoulder. “But I have seen things that haunt my dreams at night. The truth is probably far more disturbing than any tales you have heard.”

Adeimantus dismisses this twaddle for the tall tale it probably was. He doesn’t need a General- he needs bodies to absorb damage and to overwhelm his enemy. That is all. But still, just imagine…

“Livius…your source… he says it was definitely a dead General from the Persian wars?” Adeimantus asks loudly, half turning in his saddle so Livius can hear.

“That’s what he said Sir.” Livius answers.

“And he could still command and ride and lead a battle?” Adeimantus asks for the hundredth time. “Others saw this as well?”

“Yes Sir. The thing was rotted, eyes glowing. It were 10 feet tall. Arrows passed right through, doing no harm.” Livius answers, the sound of his voice flat and hushed.

As the riders leave the track and begin the slow ride through the trees and over the roots and stone outcroppings a hush comes over the forest. The riders fall silent as well; listening to the lack of life. A breeze picks up, sussurring through the leaves and making the old trees groan. An animal shriek rings out through the stillness.

“What in the name of the Gods was that?” Adeimantus calls. The sound of his horse’s hooves picking its way through the tangle muffled.

“Nothing, Sir, just a wild cat or fox. Surely you’ve heard them before?” Herostratus calls back reassuringly. “It won’t come close to the horses. They don’t like people.”

“Nonetheless, I think it is time you and Livius earn your keep. Livius, my bow…” Adeimantus calls back.

“Sir, you can’t see well enough for a bow here. You are better off with your sword.” Herostratus calls. “See that mist beginning on the ground, it will only get worse as the night wears on.”

“I see, perhaps you are right.” Adeimantus, peers ahead at the ever dimming view of thick trees and wild undergrowth. Occasionally a creature could be heard skittering off. An Owl hooting or screeching. In spite of Herostratus assurances- it certainly seemed as though the wildlife was right upon them. A bug dropped right onto the hood of the cloak, causing Adeimantus to startle.

“How much farther Herostratus?” Adeimantus demands.

“Just a few stadia now, Sir.” Herostratus answers.

“Let us light a few torches then, to beat back this mist.” Adeimantus calls, turning in his saddle again. “Livius, the torches…”

“Livius!” Behind him Adeimantus sees no sign of Livius. ”Wait Herostratus! Livius has fallen behind. Livius! Livius!”

A cacophony of animal grunts, shrieks and whistles accompanies Adeimantus frantic calls for Livius. Herostratus reigns up and turns his horse towards Adeimantus.

“This was a bad idea. I said it from the start didn’t I?” Herostratus mutters to himself. He pulls an unlit torch from his saddle bag and hands it to Adeimantus. As he passes the torch over he touches his charm bag and mutters under his breath.

“Are you going after Livius now? I’ll stay here with the lit torch so you can find me again. Don’t wander far though. I’m not paying Livius for incompetence. If he can’t keep up than he will simply be stuck here until dawn.” Adeimantus searches his bags for flint.

“See the moon ahead? Just keep riding straight towards it. I’ll catch up once I have Livius.” Herostratus wheels his horse and trots off, Xanthos surefooted as ever. Quickly the sounds of rider and horse are enveloped by the forest and mist.

Adeimantus inhales deeply the loamy scent of an untamed and verdant forest. Slowly the sounds of night creep back into his awareness, how did he ever come to believe that this place was silent? He strikes his flint, faster and more desperately until at last the wound rags catch and he exhales the breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

Holding the torch high, Adeimantus peers ahead, into the gloom. But the only thing he can make out are the closest branches, the blinding mist below and the moon hanging low and red in the sky. He twists and turns in his saddle, trying to see Herostratus or Livius, straining to hear anything over the riot of animal life around him. Softly he calls for them, annoyed at the feeble shaky quality of his voice. The hairs on his arms raise and he can’t shake the feeling from the back of his neck that something is coming upon him from behind. A sound like grains of sand falling builds in the distance, moving towards him.

“Herostratus! Come back at once! We must press on! Leave Livius to his fate…” he cries as the first droplets of a soft shower begin to fall, speckling his cloak. The patter of water on leaves is his only response. It occurs to him that neither of his hirelings will be coming back. Foolish, foolish! He chides himself. Well, they’ll not be collecting pay for this excursion. They will be lucky if they ever see the light of day again. Yes, some hard labor and a cell will be in order for Herostratus and Livius. Their names will be blackened and they will never get work again in Helike.

Adeimantus gazes thoughtfully at the moon.

“Well, I’ve come this far. Might as well see what sort of accommodations can be had in this hag’s hovel” he mutters, spurring his horse forward. His horse has become noticeably restive, twitchy almost. Her eyes are wide and her breathing is labored.

“Come now, don’t you fail me as well” he speaks softly to her as he spurs her forward. Reluctantly she continues on, slower now that she is no longer following a lead horse.

As the rain continues, soaking though his cloak, setting his teeth to chattering he notices a faint glow in the distance, the smell of wood smoke and herbs burning. Heaving a sigh of relief he pushes his mare onwards. She seems just as relieved and eagerly steps into the firelight of a small lean to against a large boulder. An old woman sits under a bower of branches, keeping the rain off her and her cookfire.

               “Old woman. I am Adeimantus, assistant to Archon Agathon of Helike. I require your assistance.” He announces as he swings from the saddle, landing poorly on a rock and stumbling a few paces.

               She continues to stir as if he wasn’t there.

               “Old woman!” he calls louder, “I said I am Adeimantus, assistant to Archon…”

               “Yes, yes. I hear you. The whole forest hears you. We all know exactly who you are and why you’ve come. Rumors of a risen dead General eh?” She chuckles to herself.

               Taken aback at her tone, Adeimantus says “that’s right. How did you know?” then, pulling himself up straighter, “Can you do it? Good Gods woman, can’t we get in out of this rain?”

               “Just a few more turns of this pot, patience, patience.” She says, stirring first one direction then precisely the other direction with big swooping arcs of her spoon. “there now, that should be sufficient.”

               She hefts her gnarled body off the stump she had been perched on and gestures for Adeimantus to join her in the lean to.

               As he steps inside he is relieved to see that it is much larger inside. The boulder it rests against has been hollowed out and a sleeping shelf has been cut into the rock. Herbs hang from the roof and jars of various substances line the walls. A smaller fire has been lit and by its light he sees a table and chairs. He takes the nearest seat, hanging his cloak on the back, hoping to dry out.

“Is it true? You can raise the dead? They can be led into a battle like an army?” Adeimantus blurts out, wanting to know whether he should stay or leave.

“Patience, young man. You’ll have your answers. I’m an old woman and I keep my own time.” The woman snaps out. “Now, let us have a nice pot of tea.”

She begins opening various pouches, adding pinches of this and that to a kettle set over the small fire.

“I just need to know if I am wasting my time, woman” Adeimantus, eyes the tea kettle suspiciously. It doesn’t smell like anything he has ever had before.

               “Smells interesting doesn’t it? It’s good for nights like this.” She responds, settling into her chair and drawing a small basket of yarn to her. She begins to knit as she speaks.

               “Let me tell you the tale of the Spider’s Curse, so that you can decide for yourself what is the truth.” She says, needles clicking softly, becoming a rhythm.

               “If you must,” Adeimantus sighs. If this is the price he must pay so be it. He is becoming more doubtful by the moment. At least he is warm and drying in here. He will leave in the morning and count this as a lesson learned.

               The morning! Everyone will see him coming back to town. Will anyone suspect his treasonous plans? Those hirelings may have talked! Well, there is nothing to be done about it now. It will have to wait for his return.

               “Once, quite a long time ago, the Drood as you call us, were wild and powerful. We feared nothing and took whatever we needed from the land.” she begins.

               “But not anymore? You can’t do the spells anymore?” Adeimantus interrupts.

               “Do you want your answers or not? Stop interrupting.” The old woman says, clicking along with her knitting, adjusting the placement of the basket once in a while.

               “Do you remember the city Helike was built on?” She asks, “of course you don’t. It was long ago. They came out to the Grove, much as you have done. They wanted our help. They threatened to raze the Grove if we didn’t cooperate. They brought us gold, jewelry and cloth.

               “We decided to do as they asked. We were curious after all. They wanted to fend off an invading force and they had seen our rainwood bows in use. Of course, we never just give our bows away. They must be earned.” She says, sliding her basket in an arc all the way around the table. Upon closer inspection, Adeimantus notices a metal ring embedded in the table top, well worn and flush with the scarred surface. “Our boons must be earned.” She intones solemnly.

               “How did they earn the bows?” Adeimantus asks.

               “They didn’t. But they paid for them nonetheless.” She answers cryptically. “No, they threatened to raze our Grove. The Great Mother and Father at the time, that’s what we call our elder leaders, took them at their word and made arrangements for 100 Rainwood bows to be made and delivered to the townspeople. Oh, these were fine bows. That’s one of them hanging behind you there- she points, rotating her wrist arthritically as she pulled her hand back. She touches her eyes, tugs her earlobe and places a finger on her lips. And then goes back to knitting.

               “It is a fine bow.” Adeimantus agrees, not even looking. He is warm and dry finally. His exertions are catching up to him. He gazes thoughtfully at the fire, trying to think of another question.

               “In those days, 100 armed people were a force to be reckoned with. The townspeople were very pleased with themselves. We Droods of course were rewarded with various trinkets and a promise to never enter the Grove again. Hold this for me would you?” She drapes a few strands of yarn over Adeimantus left arm. He glances down and shrugs. “Of course it was a lie. People from outside will always be visiting the Grove wanting our favor. We knew this.”

               “We were invited for a feast one evening, to celebrate the victory over the invaders who had never come. The townspeople believed that word had gotten out that they had arms and the Droods were with them. The invaders had given up.” We sat with them, ate their food, played with their children and animals, and listened to insult after insult about our way of life. Eventually the Great Mother called for her tea kettle. And she began to spin a tale. Once she had everyone in the hall in her thrall- not such a difficult feat for someone like her- the Droods fell upon them. Every adult man and woman was slaughtered. The children were given the choice to come live a correct life with the Droods, or take what they could carry and leave. We even killed their pets and livestock.”

               “That’s appalling! You were guests. Why? How could you do such.. a.. thing?” Adeimantus asks, watching a ragged cat saunter across the room, ears missing, eyes shriveled pits, bones protruding through the patchy skin. It dropped a fat dove at the old woman’s feet.

               “Thank you Sweety, that will make a fine stew later.” the old woman croaks at the cat thing.

               “They never should have threatened the Grove. People should really think more before they speak. Ah, clumsy, ah well, we’ll leave it there” she said says, after dropping a few strands of yarn onto the floor across Adeimantus feet. “Where was I? Oh yes, the end of that story. We razed the town. Burnt it to the ground. I don’t know if the invaders ever showed up, but there was certainly nothing for them if they did. So, in that sense, we kept our word to fend them off.”

               Adeimantus was feeling very drowsy indeed. If only she would just answer his question about his future army of undead. He wanted to sleep, but he must know.

               “But, you’ve said nothing about raising the dead.” Adeimantus says thickly. His tongue felt leaden.

               “No, no I didn’t. I’m getting to that. You see, that is where those rumors come from. We learned a few things from that interaction. We reserve our secrets for ourselves. We try not to tempt people such as yourself to come seeking us out. But, since you are here…” she says, furiously knitting. “the answer is yes.”

               “Wha?” is all Adeimantus can muster. Although his heart trips a bit in excitement.

               “Yes. Yes we most certainly can raise the dead. My Sweety is well over 300 yrs old. A better hunter you’ll not find. We can do many things. And now, we HAVE a small well armed army with a hundred rainwood bows at our disposal should Helike ever get any further ideas about razing our Grove. All we need do is pull them from the ground with the snap of our fingers.” She intones, flinging the yarn in her fingers over Adeimantus head.

               “Shush now, don’t try to speak. It will only get tighter.” she says staring at Adeimantus.

Curiously, Adeimantus doesn’t feel like speaking anymore. He tries a shrug, but his shoulders are just too heavy. He should be outraged, he knows. But he just sits meekly, watching the old woman as she gets up fluidly and grabs the bow on the wall behind him.

               “That is the Spider’s Tale young man. We call it that because no one who hears it ever leaves to tell it again.”

               Adeimantus eyes fall closed as she raises the bow, pulling an arrow from it’s quiver…