Spiderfat soup

Esmiralda and her companions, the Optimist Monk Broo Fang Tane and Seymuhr Skullsquasher were enjoying a brief respite outside the walls of Veral Ski, the largest city in the land of Korrin, when a group of locals teased Tane into a deadly confrontation.

"You know, this spiderfat soup isn't half bad," I said. The thick liquid had a smoky flavor and a vague honey-like aftertaste. The chunks of carapace were boiled perfectly and retained only a touch of their crispness. I dug a stiff hair from between my teeth.

"You should try the spider silk ale," the serving wench added with a nod and a snorting chortle. "I've lost many a night to its seductive flavor." She raised her eyebrows at me suggestively.

"Perhaps later," I said. I put a reassuring hand--very tentatively, of course--on Tane's arm. "You didn't mean to kill those men. It's okay. They started the fight."

He made a non-committal noise and continued to stare glumly at the table top. Seymurh slurped a bit of stringy fluid from the inside of a spider leg and ignored us both. He belched and patted his stomach, then rooted around in a bowl for another stalk.

"They could have stopped. They didn't have to tease you that way."

"They ne....v...er do," Tan whispered.

"Poor little feller," The serving wench returned. Her name was Mallynda. "Is he always this gloomy?"

"Just the opposite, in fact," I said. "He is of the Order of the Optimists, and tasked with spreading good news and cheer throughout the land."

Mallyn whistled. "No wonder he's such a good fighter. Those are dangerous tidings, indeed."

Seymuhr belched again, louder this time and a few people in the corner cheered and clapped.

"Who would have guessed that we'd ever live in a world where a hearty belch is greeted with more enthusiasm than a message of hope and happiness," Mallyn said. "Hope, we need more of. Gastric distress is all too plentiful."

"You should know," Seymuhr said as he lifted a leg and squinted. "These spiced spider legs have my guts churning like a stormy sea."

I waved a hand furiously in front of my face and scowled at him. "And what was it yesterday, then?"

"Listen," Mallyn said as she sat down next to Tane. "You mustn't lose your spark of sun, even when others try to force it out of you. Those men needed to be taught a lesson. They are here often, looking to stir things up. Sometimes, the trouble you cook up doesn't sit well."

"Forgive me," I said to her. "But you speech has the cadence of education. Why is someone so learned serving roughnecks in a tavern?"

Mallyn snorted and chortled again. "Oh, I'm not that learned. You just pick up a few things here and there. My education is nothing more than that." She colored slightly and got quickly to her feet. Someone raised and empty glass and she hurried to retrieve it, leaving me to stare at her swaying hips and wonder.

Whirled peas, not world peace

...in which Broo Fang Tane goes on another over-the-top rampage

Previously:
With the mountain witch Abilene vanquished, Esmiralda invokes her traveling stone to return her and her companions to civilization--in this case, Veral Ski, one of the largest cities in the world of Korin. Here, she means to inform the Ministry of Human Preservation of the loss of their colleague, Merrick, who served the ministry under the direction of Queen Phedera. First, she intends to find a hot bath, warm food and a soft bed. Sadly, it was not meant to be.

Tane's high-pitched battle cry reached a crescendo and he punched his first two fingers up through the soft part of his tormentor's throat. He slammed the dying man's forehead on the table twice, knocking everything else askew. He jerked his bloody hand free, then sent the man sprawling with an elbow to his gut--all actions again punctuated by an incoherent yelp of rage.

The first man lay still, leaking fluids onto the tavern floor before his snickering companions could even react. One of them, a tall bearded fellow with no hair above his ears, lurched forward, but Tane was already on his feet, eyes wide with anger. He caught the man's wrist with one hand and shattered his elbow with the other. The man opened his mouth to scream but Tane's heel knocked him to the floor before he could utter a sound.

I grabbed a chair and ducked behind it. Others dove for cover, behind tables or chairs or each other. A woman with long red hair leaped in my direction. She crawled behind me and I put a protective shoulder in front of her. "Be still and make yourself as small as you can," I told her.

Tane took the bowl off his head and wiped the smashed peas from his scalp. He hurled the ceramic dish at one man and leaped after it. The man dodged the bowl but then Tane was in front of him. He kicked the man's leg, bending his knee backward with an ugly crack, and then flattened him with an uppercut that lifted him off his feet. Blood spurted upward like a tiny, thick geyser.

The fourth man held up his hands in surrender and waved them in front of his face. "I'm sorry mister I'm sorry we were just having some fun..."

Tane grabbed his wrist, bent it sideways until a shard of bone broke through the skin, and then drove the heel of his hand into the man's nose. He staggered back, gulping, and Tane sent him sprawling with a firm kick to his midsection.

Someone threw a knife, but Tane caught it and sent it back. It buried itself in the man's eye. He dropped to his knees. Tane snatched up a chair and shattered it over his head.

He whirled, eyes still blazing, chest heaving. "WHO'S NEXT??"

"I think you got them all, Pard," Seymuhr said. 

"He must really not like peas," the woman behind me whispered.

"You can't blame him for that," I answered. I got slowly to my feet, holding up my hands to show him I meant no harm, like I was trying to calm a panicked horse. "There, there. It's okay now. All the bad men are...well, they aren't going to bother you any longer."

Tane took in a final deep breath, then looked around him and let it out loudly. His head fell and his shoulders drooped. "I am....sorry." He sat down heavily.

"My companion meant no harm," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "He is but a pilgrim on the road to peace. He still has a long journey ahead of him."

"Are you sure he's started that journey?" Someone called out, but I could not tell who.

The serving wench peeked from behind the bar, where she had been hiding. She took a quick look around the room to survey the damage. "I'll get a bucket," she said.

An all-too brief peace

With the mountain witch Abilene vanquished, Esmiralda invokes her traveling stone to return her and her companions to civilization--in this case, Veral Ski, one of the largest cities in the world of Korin. Here, she means to inform the Ministry of Human Preservation of the loss of their colleague, Merrick, who served the ministry under the direction of Queen Phedera. First, she intends to find a hot bath, warm food and a soft bed.

"Bucket of blood?" I asked Seymuhr. "Why would you say such a thing?"

"Why not?" He answered with a shrug. He glanced around. "I doubt they have that much here, anyway."

"It's just...I...we shouldn't be making such a scene. The way we look, people are apt to ask us questions."

Broo Fang Tane slurped his soup, winced, and pulled a long, thick spider claw from between his teeth. He held it up in the dim light of the tavern, sniffed it, then crunched it between his jaws. My stomach hitched and I saw the serving woman leaning over the crucible. She took in a deep breath, eyes sparkling, and licked her lips. I heard loud eating noises all around me and I tried to ignore them.

"We have nothing to hide," Seymuhr said. "And look around you. Nobody is paying us any heed."

Indeed, the figures in the tavern were all slumped over their bowls or spider-filled platters, crunching and slurping away. Around the walls, men sprawled in some of the booths, their arms up around their seats and their legs played open. Two of them had their boots off and were wiggling crusty toes. Coated in gore we may have been, but stand out we did not.

Then the door banged open and four men walked in. The first, a man large and broad with a thick neck and broken nose, lit up when he saw the three of us. He clapped hands together and made a soft, gleeful sound as his three companions snickered. He walked toward us.

As he approached, he licked the palm of his hand and then slapped the top of Tane's bald crown. He chortled at the sharp sound, licked his palm again and slapped It down, a little more firmly.

Tane tensed for an instant, then his shoulders relaxed. He looked up at the man.

"Why do you....do....this?"

The man stuck a finger up his nose and rooted around before answering. "Why? Oh why, why why. Why does the river flow to the west?"

"That's where the sea is," I answered, hoping to send the man away.

"There are seas in the east, too," he pointed out. He pulled a slimy finger out of his nostril and wiped it on Tane's cheek.

"Please, I want no troub.....le," Tane said.

Seymuhr leaned back, arms crossed, a mischievous smile on his face. I glared at him, imploring him to intercede.

"You won't be any trouble, monk-ey," the man snarled. A strange look crossed his face and he abruptly turned around, raised his arse and broke wind in Tane's ear. "There, I just wanted to remind you of your mother."

I shouted. A soft, high-pitched growl had started in Tane's throat. I recognized the sound and my heart started racing. "Leave us in peace! We are merely weary travelers, looking to enjoy some...some fresh spider!"

"Peace?" The man seemed unfamiliar with the word. He glanced back at his companions and repeated it. Two of them scratched their heads, the third let out an inquisitive grunt as he spread his hands in a confused gestured.

"Yes." Tane regained his voice. "I am a man of....peace."

The man snatched up the bowl and emptied it on to Tane's head, pushing it down and twisting it. "Well, you're a man of peas, now!" He chortled, slapped his own belly and bent over laughing. Seymuhr chuckled, too, but I caught a dangerous glint in Tane's eye and heard his knuckles crack as he formed a tight fist. The high-pitched growl returned and grew into a crescendo.

"Oh, bones of Barnok," I whispered. Tane exploded into action and then the shrieking started.

A hot meal and a bucket of blood

With the mountain witch Abilene vanquished, Esmiralda invokes her traveling stone to return her and her companions to civilization--in this case, Veral Ski, one of the largest cities in the world of Korin. Here, she means to inform the Ministry of Human Preservation of the loss of their colleague, Merrick, who served the ministry under the direction of Queen Phedera. First, she intends to find a hot bath, warm food and a soft bed.

We selected a small inn on the outskirts of the city. It was filled with weary travelers and few of them took much notice of us as we stumbled in and sat heavily at a table near the far wall. The conversation inside was muted and most men where slumped over brown cups of ale. There were a few women sprinkled between them, equally plain, many with their hair tucked under a cloth or braided into place.

A huge vat bubbled over smoldering coals in the fireplace, giving off an exotic, spicy scent that made my stomach rumble. The keeper gave it a quick stir, sniffing the vapors he disturbed. He motioned for one of the serving women and pointed in our direction.

"Do you have any coin?" I asked Seymuhr.

"A few."

"Let's hope it's enough to buy a meal, a bath and a room for the night. I am not quite ready to be seen in civilized company."

"I think you...look...nice," Broo Fang Tane said. "And the sm....ell is har...dly...noticea....ble."

I gave him a fake smile. "Thank you for that."

The serving girl approached, a tired but cheerful look on her face. Her hair was the color of straw and her shirt was pulled tight around her middle, open at the top. Seymuhr's gaze lingered there and I rolled my eyes. Men: covered in gore and fresh from battle, they think women find them as irresistible as they do.

"A good day to you, travelers," the woman said. "We've ale and dried leaves for tea, a bit of mutton left and greens that are fresh from the market."

"What's in the pot?"

"Oh, you must be from far away indeed, if you don't know of our soup. It's rather famous."

"I bet it's delicious," I said, with real relish. "What is it called?"

"Well, it's spiderfat soup, of course. The best in the land." She curtsied as she said it, as if she was solely responsible for its taste and reputation. "Everything we serve here is made of the finest spider."

"I see." I could feel my face falling. "Even the mutton?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "It's spider-mutton, actually. Fresh, juicy flanks. We rub a little thyme and rosemary into the carapace to give it an extra bit of flavor--not that it needs much," she added with a snorting laugh.

"I'll go with the greens, then," I said.

"One spider leg salad," she repeated, then went on before I could protest. "And you two?"

"All of it for me," Seymuhr said, slapping the table. "And keep it coming!"

Tane merely nodded and I was grateful for that. I was too hungry to wait for him to work his way through another sentence. I requested, as politely as I could, anything that did not include spider and the woman gave me a puzzled look, but promised to see what she could find.

"You would think, being this close to a city and so many farms, that they would serve something besides spider," I said. I reached my fingers into my hair to scratch my scalp and pulled them away, disgusted. It felt like they were coated in slime. "Are there no cows in the fields? Fish in the river?"

"Cats in the barn?" Seymuhr put in, earning a scowl.

"You're in a fine mood," I said. "I thought Tane was the optimist among us."

"You need to learn to live without all your fineries," he told me. "Korin is not such a  bad realm if you lower your expectations of comfort."

Perhaps. But what type of place was it becoming? Who would carry on Merrick's mission? Korin was and hopefully always would be a silly place, but it could be dark and dangerous, too. Confronting the mountain witch and skimming through the book that chronicled her evils, I couldn't help but wonder if the shadows were growing and the light, receding. I felt suddenly weary for the stories I would have to tell--starting with Merrick's end at the hands of the pirate's undead mistress.

Then the serving wench returned. She plopped down two bowls of steaming soup in front of Tane and Seymuhr. Part of a hairy spider leg protruded from the viscous surface of Tane's bowl; he used it to stir the broth. She placed a heaping bowl of peas in front of me with an apologetic shrug.

"That's all we have, besides spider," she said.

I looked at the bowl, then at the soup that Seymuhr was noisily slurping, then at the pot bubbling in the crucible, then back at the peas and then completed another visual circuit.

"You know what? I'll try the soup, instead."

She turned toward the pot, but left the bowl of peas on the table.

"Later, we'll need two rooms," I said. "Do you have any available?"

She nodded and took another step.

"And a fresh bucket of blood to bathe in," Seymuhr called after her.  Pointing at the gore that covered his arms, his face, his scalp, was smeared down his legs, across is abdomen, between his fingers and caked on his boots, he added: "This, this is just getting too sticky and stale for my tastes."

A brief glimpse of Veral Ski, or: world building without a map or a plan

With the mountain witch Abilene vanquished, Esmiralda invokes her traveling stone to return her and her companions to civilization--in this case, Veral Ski, one of the largest cities in the world of Korin. Here, she means to inform the Ministry of Human Preservation of the loss of their colleague, Merrick, who served the ministry under the direction of Queen Phedera. First, she intends to find a hot bath, warm food and a soft bed.


We found ourselves on a wooded hill not far from the great city's southern gate. Veral Ski! It grew from the valley floor like a flower, with jagged walls and towers that stretched straight and sure toward the clouds.

Nestled on the banks of the Deep River, Veral Ski had grown from the river like a patch of lichen gradually spreading west. The buildings grew taller, the further they were from the vital waterway, although in recent history attempts had been made to reclaim the ramshackle docks and inner city from centuries of poor use and bad traffic. The grimy alleys and dubious structures of the north docks were being replaced with wider streets and some degree of law and order--although they were nowhere near as fashionable as the SouthShore section of the city.

"I never thought I would see her again," I breathed, once I had my bearings. I stepped back into the cover of the trees, suddenly aware of my appearance and stench. Seymuhr, Broo Fang Tane and I were all more than a little disheveled. Our clothes were torn and covered in gore. Seymuhr and Tane wore a patchwork of scratches and cuts, too, that had barely started to scab over. I was luckier than they in that regard, but my long hair was a tangle that would take time, patience and concentration to straighten out. We all smelled as if we had crawled through a fresh crypt on our bellies--which, I guessed, we nearly had.

"And who is that, then?"

"I meant the city," I answered Seymuhr.

"Never stop...believing," Tane said, his face bright with optimism once more. "I have nev....er...walked the stree.......ts of...Ve...ral Ski be....fore. Is there a Tem...ple of the....Sun with...in its...."

"Yes, there is a Temple of the Sun within the city," I grew impatient with his slow, lilting speech and finished his question for him. "There is room for everything within the great city--even optimists. I'm sure your order is well-represented."

"It may even be tolerated," Seymuhr suggested. "I've heard that city folk embrace hope on occasion."

"The rich ones do, at any rate," I said. "I suggest we attend to our appearance before we try to conduct any business. I am confident that we can arrange an audience with the queen if we do not look--or smell--like we just crawled from the depths of Ewl's domain," I added, giving Seymuhr a lingering and, I hoped, meaningful look.

"The riv...er is beautif...ul. What is its......name?"

"It's just named the Deep River."

"That is...all?"

I shrugged. "Mubbe the Wanderer, the explorer who discovered and, consequently, named much of the part of Korin, was not very creative. Besides, it's enough."

"It must...be...pret...ty deep, then."

"Depends on how tall you are, I guess."

There were a scattering of buildings outside the city walls, of course, and I assumed that some of them would be taverns or inns where travelers like ourselves could scrape the dust of their travels from their clothes and bodies prior to entering the city. One of them had a large enclosure where several horses ambled and snacked on tufts of long grass and a long, low building that looked to be some sort of stable. Smoke trailed up from its chimney. It looked peaceful enough. I pointed at it and headed that way. Seymuhr fell in beside me and Tane, after a somewhat reluctant grunt, followed.

The short goodbye

Previously: Freelance historian Esmiralda and her companions--Merrick, a member of the Ministry of Human Preservation (MOHP), Broo-Fang Tane, an Optimist Monk, and Seymuhr, a brutish but somewhat dim-witted warrior called the Skullsquasher, have fought their way into the lair of the mountain witch to uproot her evil, once and for all. They defeated the witch, but lost a companion during the battle.

Seymuhr and Broo Fang Tane scraped a depression into the rough ground near the top of the valley. Tane and I arranged Merrick in the grave, taking great care to be as gentle as possible. His face was serene; once the pain of his death had passed his body had accepted its end with what looked like a combination of grace and humor. He might have just been having a pleasant dream or remembering a funny moment.

Tane swayed fluidly over his still form, his arms and legs moving on intricate, soothing patterns. He mumbled something that sounded vaguely lyrical and I took it to be a kind of prayer known to the Order of Optimists. Behind us, Baram stood, her head lowered respectfully. Seymuhr was hauling rocks of various sizes up to Merrick's final resting place. Many were small, the size of his fists, but others were large enough to sink into the ground when he dropped them. He moved them all without apparent exertion. When Tane finished his ritual, he nodded at Seymuhr, who moved the stones in place, larger ones at the base and smaller ones on top, to finish the cairn. I considered leaving his staff to further mark it, but decided instead to plunge the dried witchwood dagger into the mound.

Everyone looked at me.

I cleared my throat. "I scarcely knew Merrick," I started, "but liked what I knew of him. He was noble and pure, wise and strong. He was a force for good and a light, now extinguished, that will make Korin a bit darker."

Seymuhr grunted. Tane nodded.

"I will tend this spot and see that all that grows nearby honors his memory," Baram said.

We stood awkwardly for a few more moments. I felt my eyes fill with tears. My mind kept leaping toward the future; I was filled with uncertainty about our next course of action. I felt small, cast upon a violent wind like a dried leaf. The queen, I decided, must know of his loss. I reached into my tunic and pulled out my Traveling Stone, a bright green chip of rock worn smooth through countless years of use. It was thinner now than when it had first been gifted to me, but still mildly warm to the touch. I rubbed it gently, cradling it with my first two fingers and rubbing the other side with my thumb, and felt the magic come alive.

"Farewell," I said to Baram. "May we meet some day under better skies."

Then I joined hands with Tane and Seymuhr, closed my eyes, concentrated on the great city and whispered: "Veral Ski."

There was a moment of stillness, followed by a tingling in my core. A wind came up and the ground, the forest, the rocks and the valley was no more.

The witch's end

Previously: Freelance historian Esmiralda and her companions--Merrick, a member of the Ministry of Human Preservation (MOHP), Broo-Fang Tane, an Optimist Monk, and Seymuhr, a brutish but somewhat dim-witted warrior called the Skullsquasher, have fought their way into the lair of the mountain witch to uproot her evil, once and for all...

"Bones of Barnok," I gasped. I felt like a newly finished suit of armor: exterior still stinging from the blows of countless hammers, hollow inside. I saw Baram's hand above me, reaching out, and I reluctantly grasped it and felt her pull me to my feet.

"I am sorry," she said. "She stole my husband and I believed her lies."

"I was there when we freed him, remember?" I poked my shoulder, arm, belly--I was tender everywhere. Broo Fang Tane crouched over Merrick's form; he had not yet regained his feet. Seymuhr looked mostly unharmed. He was covered in gore to his elbows, but had a smile on his face. He saluted me with a dripping mace.

"No. You weren't. At least not then. That unfortunate soul belonged to another. My betrothed was here, in this chamber, chained behind that witch." She looked over to the dark place where nothing stirred. "I sensed something, either in you or your companions--I could not tell which--and I knew I had to bring you here to stop her. I know not why she wanted you here."

"Glad to be of service," I muttered and turned away, Tane was motioning to me and Merrick was still on the ground. Concern was etched into the monk's face.

Merrick was red-faced and wheezing. I could see no mark on him, yet blood seeped from the corner of his mouth and, even more alarmingly, his ears. He blinked rapidly and his eyes were wild.

"Mira," he gasped. "We have pulled the root of this evil, but scattered the seeds."

"Rest, friend," I said, stopping to hold his hand. It was cold. "She is no more. We are done here."

He closed his eyes and took a deep, ragged breath. "I am," he said, "but I fear you are not."

"Don't talk like that. The danger has passed, for now. The witch is vanquished, dead and gone; banished to Ewl's dark domain. Where is your wound?"

He didn't answer. He looked up at Tane, whose tender expression was somehow more alarming than anything else. He moved his head toward Seymuhr, who was poking the grisly remnants of the dead witch with a gore-splattered boot. "Reach into my pocket," he rasped.

I did, and felt his leg quivering. My hand closed around an object, smaller than my palm and round, but with a point sticking out on either side near the top. I pulled it out. It was a small metal carving shaped like a round shield with a sword crossed near the top--the symbol of the Ministry of Human Preservation. He folded my fingers around it.

"This is yours now, as is the fight. Go to the queen. Show it to her and, and, tell my tale."

"Stop this," I insisted, my voice thick with sudden grief. "You'll tell her yourself. I am no fighter; I am a storyteller. I am not equipped...."

He went to poke me on my cheek, but spasmed and nearly put out my eye instead. "You are stronger than you know. Only you can do this." Tears welled in his eyes and spilled down his cheek, where they mingled with the blood and turned into pink smears. "You are bound n..." Then a sudden pain jerked him half upright. His eyes squeezed tight and his lips drew back in a final grimace. He went slack with a great sigh.

"A good death," Seymuhr said. He nodded in approval as he snacked on one of his remaining dried spider legs. "We should all be so lucky."

"I'm going to miss him," Tane added. "He was like a...shade...tree...to me."

"I fear we will all walk in his shadow from now on," I said. I gently lowered him to the cavern floor and pushed myself to my feet. I crossed his arms his chest and closed his eyes. His staff, I picked up. "What to do with him now?"

"If you'll allow me," Baram spoke quietly, her head tilted in a sign of respect, "I would give him back to the land. It is a service I would gladly perform to make up for my deception. His form would nurture Korin as much as his soul sought to protect it."

"That would be......................................................................................................................good," Tane agreed finally.

Semuhr lifted Merrick and we headed toward the open air.