The Long War 02 - The Dark Blood (62 page)

‘Where exactly are we going, master?’ asked the squire.

‘Just trust me,’ responded Utha, not feeling inclined to explain.

Randall snorted with amusement. ‘Lead on, master... a nice walk in the woods would be pleasant.’

The old-blood gently cuffed his squire across the back of the head. ‘Stop being cheeky, boy.’

‘Whatever you say, master,’ was his even cheekier response.

‘You know what, Randall? I think I liked you more when you were meek and afraid of your shadow.’

‘I’ll do my best to return to that... if it pleases you, master.’

Randall really only called Utha
master
when he was being cheeky. There had been a gradual transition from genuine respect to unspoken teasing, and the old-blood found that he valued the young man of Darkwald more and more each day.

‘Just shut up,’ barked Utha, holding a finger across his mouth to indicate that he didn’t want any clever retort this time.

They walked down a shallow incline that led away from the bulk of the settlement until they could once again see the sky. Having spent the entirety of the previous day hidden in the woods, it was strange to emerge only to find themselves under another canopy of trees. It was lighter and airier than the Fell Walk, but the forest was still dense and had a primeval quality. There were no paths and the two men of Ro had to pick their way through the undergrowth, as Utha followed the direction he had sensed in his dream.

The incline became steeper and they had to use nearby shrubs and overhanging branches to steady themselves as they travelled down into a deep hollow in the forest floor. The air was stagnant and the light minimal. They edged down the side of the hollow to a craggy rock formation, nestled in the greenery at the bottom.

‘Is it me, or is this place ever so slightly sinister?’ asked Randall, following closely behind his master.

‘I’m not sure any men have ever been down here before, my boy... the forest doesn’t seem to like us.’

Utha was wary. Before them, a series of low cave entrances plunged into the rock face.

‘Watch your step, lad,’ he said, as Randall half-stumbled, half-jumped down the last few feet.

Utha cast his eyes over the caves. The same shiver he’d felt in his dream travelled up his spine. Ahead of them, partially concealed within the overgrowth, was a single large cave entrance with a thick layer of dense web across the opening.

‘Would now be a good time to tell you that I’m a little... funny... around spiders,’ said Randall, clearly in distress.

‘Funny?’ queried Utha. ‘What, you like to tell them jokes?’

‘Er, no... I’m terrified of the bastards,’ replied the young squire, beads of sweat rolling down his face and his hand involuntarily going to his sword.

Utha chuckled at his admission. ‘I don’t think we’re in any danger here,’ he said, placing a reassuring hand on Randall’s shoulder.

Just as the atmosphere relaxed, a hand-sized Gorlan scuttled down a nearby tree and darted into a cave. Randall jumped back and turned almost as white as his albino master.

‘It’s only a small one, my boy... easy to squash if it comes too close.’ He interposed himself between Randall and the spider.

‘Fear is a strange thing,’ replied the squire. ‘I know they’re not all dangerous. It’s just something about the way they move and never make any noise.’

Utha smiled again and gently removed Randall’s hand from the sword of Great Claw. ‘I don’t think you’ll be needing that.’

‘Makes me feel better to know it’s there,’ he responded, visibly shaken.

The old-blood’s skin began to crawl again as a rumbling sound came from the large cave in front of them. Utha turned sharply, making sure that Randall was behind him. Then he took a step towards the cave.

‘I am Utha of Arnon... you called me here.’

He didn’t need to look behind him to know that his squire was shaking with fear – which he began to share as a voice came from the cave. ‘I know who you are, old-blood.’

It was similar to the voice he’d heard in his dream, but more organic. Behind the words, he could sense an unpleasant grating noise that did not seem to emanate from human mouth parts.

From the cave entrance, obscured slightly, the two men saw eyes appear. Both gasped at the number of eyes and the size of the creature they must belong to. A clicking sound accompanied its movements and Utha involuntarily took a step backwards.

‘Do not fear me, old-blood,’ said the voice, spitting and gurgling out each word.

‘Reveal yourself,’ said Utha, his hand going to his sword.

‘I wish you hadn’t said that,’ was the quivering retort from Randall.

From within the dark cave, a single spider leg emerged at around head height. It was thick, segmented and covered in dark brown hairs. Utha and Randall backed off and brandished their swords defensively, standing close together. The enormous leg rose slowly and, in one sinuous movement, swept aside the web that covered the cave entrance.

For a moment, Utha did not know what he was looking at. The darkness cast a many-layered reflection across the shimmering black chitin, and until the beast actually moved, the old-blood thought it little more than a shadow. The eyes appeared first – strange orbs of reflective blacks and greys, floating on the hairy surface of the Gorlan’s head. Its feelers were thickly haired and twitched rapidly from side to side as the creature inched forward into the light. The fangs beneath were curved and reminiscent of vicious daggers, though they were tucked behind the feelers and not poised for a strike.

It took a few seconds for the spider fully to emerge from the cave. Its legs were clutched closely around its bulbous black abdomen, making it difficult to estimate the creature’s full size, but Utha didn’t doubt that the Gorlan was as large as four horses.

‘I want to run away,’ Randall blurted out, his hands shaking and his voice high-pitched.

When the Gorlan spoke, it used its feelers to generate the sounds, clicking them together against its fangs to mimic human speech. ‘There is no need to run, human.’

Utha didn’t take his eyes from the beast as he pushed his squire further behind him. ‘Just back off slowly,’ he told Randall, brandishing his sword defensively.

The Gorlan flexed its legs and lowered its huge body, stretching out to double its previous width. ‘You are not in danger,’ said the spider, speaking in a manner utterly alien to Utha’s ears. ‘I have recently fed.’

‘Why is the Gorlan talking?’ asked Randall in near panic. ‘How can it talk? It’s a spider.’

Utha had no answer. He had travelled far in the lands of men, but had never heard stories or legends of such things. The creature before them was by far the biggest of its species he had ever seen, but to hear the beast speak was almost too much to believe. If it hadn’t been for his dream, the old-blood would probably have already attacked it. Somehow, he knew that the creature was not his enemy.

‘You may call me Ryuthula,’ said the creature.

‘A name, it’s got a name,’ quivered Randall.

‘If you have a need to speak... speak,’ said Utha, doing his best to remain calm as the monstrous Gorlan flexed its legs again. ‘I spoke to you as I slept.’

‘You did not,’ replied the Gorlan called Ryuthula. ‘Though I will one day speak to you... from the halls beyond the world.’

Utha did not understand. The voice from his dream had called itself a
memory
. The old-blood was beginning to feel small and ignorant under the weight of things he did not know.

‘Well, you’re not there yet,’ said Utha, without lowering his sword. ‘So speak.’

The Gorlan hunched up again as if it were trying to lessen its terrifying appearance. ‘You have a journey ahead of you, old-blood,’ said Ryuthula, ‘to the lands of silence far to the south.’

‘I’m just a man,’ replied Utha. ‘I can’t even comprehend what is expected of me.’

‘You are
not
just a man, old-blood, as your name suggests.’

Utha retched involuntarily at the sight of the spider’s gummy, ooze-filled mouth.

‘Do I disturb you?’ it asked.

‘Yes, yes, you do,’ interjected Randall, his eyes wide and fixed on the beast before him.

‘I think the question was directed at me,’ said Utha, trying to remain between Ryuthula and the terrified squire.

‘Yeah, sorry... I’ll shut up.’ The young man of Darkwald was rooted to the spot with fear.

‘It takes a lot to make me afraid,’ responded Utha. ‘You’re unknowable... but I don’t fear you.’

Ryuthula flexed, its eyes glinting as a ray of dusky sunlight filtered down through the canopy. ‘You must not fear me, for I am to be your guide,’ it said, making a grotesque squelching sound as it did so.

Utha’s irritation at things he couldn’t understand began to get the better of him. ‘I don’t need a spider as a guide. A map might be useful, maybe a local who knows where Oron Kaa is, but a spider? I don’t think so.’

‘Don’t make it angry,’ said Randall, hunkering down behind his master.

‘I’m sick of being told what I am and what I’m supposed to do,’ replied Utha. ‘What if I see my
own
future and it involves a tavern and a woman?’

The Gorlan pawed at the grass with its front two legs and bared its fangs in a threat display, causing Utha to raise his sword and shove Randall back.

‘Just try it, spider,’ he said, unafraid.

Ryuthula twisted its body forwards until its bulbous black abdomen was sticking up in the air and its fangs were displayed. It was a sight that would make most men run for the hills or fall down in catatonic fear, but Utha the Ghost was not most men, and he took a step forwards.

‘You put those fangs away or I’ll start cutting off your legs,’ he growled.

Randall was panting rapidly and staring up at the spider as it towered over them. Utha had no idea how easy would it be to kill the thing....

After a moment of silence, Ryuthula retracted its fangs and lowered itself back down to the ground, gathering in its legs.

‘I apologize, old-blood,’ said the beast, ‘but I cannot always control myself when I am angry.’

‘When
you’re
angry?’ retorted the old-blood. ‘What have
you
got to be angry about?’

‘You were dismissive of my help. That makes me angry.’ The Gorlan was low to the ground again and appeared less threatening. ‘To look upon you is difficult for those of my kind.’

Utha almost laughed. ‘You’re the huge spider... I must be positively lovely to look at in comparison.’

‘You misunderstand me, old-blood. I am a Gorlan mother, not a spider as you insist on calling me. My kind has revered the Shadow Giants for longer than your race has existed, for longer than the Dokkalfar have existed. We called them the
ones we loved
long before the trees of the Fell became tall and strong.’ Ryuthula backed away and coughed out a globule of milky, viscous liquid. ‘Apologies, it can be difficult for me to maintain the speech of men.’

Utha lowered his sword. ‘I had no idea the Gorlan had gods,’ he said, genuinely interested by the revelation.

‘Not the Gorlan you mean,’ responded Ryuthula. ‘Not the spiders of the lands of men. They are to us as you are to the Giants you revere.’

‘How old are you, Gorlan mother?’ he asked.

‘I have no conception of the time of men. Your years are meaningless to the world and to those of us that dwell through the long ages of deep time. Your species are a cough, a blink in the tapestry of forever.’

Utha was no longer certain that his earlier outburst had been wise.

‘I say that it is difficult for me to look upon you, for you wear the visage of the Shadow Giants, the pale skin and pink eyes of those we loved.’

Utha raised an eyebrow and tried to appear respectful. ‘The Shadow Giants were albino?’

Ryuthula almost reared up again, but quickly regained its composure. ‘No, they were not, but they had pale skin and pink eyes. All those with the blood of Giants have some kind of deformity. A stain of deep time, if you prefer. Yours is better than most; I have seen old-bloods with tentacles for arms and lamprey beaks for heads.’

Utha baulked at the description of his albinism as a stain, but refused to be insulted by the beast’s manner of speech. ‘Which Giants had tentacles?’

‘Water Giants. Formless beasts that long ago left their halls,’ replied the Gorlan mother. ‘You may meet them if you follow my guidance and if you travel far enough.’

‘What if we don’t want to meet horrible things?’ blurted out Randall, still cowering behind his master. ‘Perhaps, I don’t know, a few months’ rest and recuperation first?’

‘Randall, just shut up,’ murmured Utha, trying to concentrate on what he was hearing.

‘Will your servant be accompanying us?’ asked the Gorlan.

Utha raised his chin. ‘He’s my squire and my friend, but he’s no servant. Not of mine and not of yours.’

Randall glanced up at his master in acknowledgement of the words.

‘He goes where I go,’ said Utha.

‘That may prove difficult when we reach the labyrinth,’ responded Ryuthula, cryptically referring to part of Utha’s dream. The old-blood had seen a stairway, a labyrinth and a guardian, but the images had been vague and made little sense to him.

‘You can lead us to this labyrinth?’ he asked.

‘I can and I will,’ replied the Gorlan mother.

Utha pursed his lips, wondering how a huge spider could accompany them to Karesia. Ryuthula had likely lived in the Fell for centuries and would be unaccustomed to travelling the lands of men.

‘How are you going to do that?’ he asked, deciding simply to be blunt. ‘You wouldn’t exactly fit in my pocket.’

He had no idea whether Ryuthula found the comment amusing, but the Gorlan mother did back away and hunch up even more. ‘If it makes things easier...’ it began, slowly shrinking in size.

Utha and his squire gasped. The beast flowed and contorted, its hair disappearing and its legs melding together into a grotesque amalgam of man and Gorlan. A few moments later, a naked woman crouched where Ryuthula had been. ‘You may call me Ruth,’ said the woman. ‘I will need some clothing.’

The two men stared at each other for several seconds, neither knowing what to say, nor even if words were appropriate.