The Spiders Of Skraaal

Prince Rhowyn and his father, King Robin, were riding as far as The Greenwoode to meet the Skraaal elders. With them rode the archer and two other wardens of the north, Saaal Soool, six knights, and twelve men of the castle guard. The roads of Rhealmyrr were seldom troubled by robbers, but the north was a wild place, and there had been some rumbling among the hill clans about the Skraaal, who they called the Dragonfolke.

King Robin had never been a "king-ly" king. He didn't wear a crown, or ermine, or jewels. He liked clothes that were comfortable and practical, and for their journey he was dressed in a plain brown leather tunic, cinched at the waist with a bronze studded sword belt, over black woollen hose and knee high black boots.

Prince Rhowyn's boots were buckskin. He wore a white cotton shirt under a padded linen doublet of sunflower yellow and a kind of loose fitting trews, called jodhpurs. Before the queen was the queen, Rhowyn's mother had been the Maharanee of Jal Naghrahar, a fortress city far to the east, where their gods were monkeys with blue faces and eight armed elephants. And where, she had told him, everyone wore jodhpurs. Even the blue faced monkey god, Khasheem.

Sir Roger and our men should have started bringing the Skraaal through the mountain passes by now, the archer in green told King Robin.

Roger the miller's son was Robin's boyhood friend, and was now Sir Roger of Delthemyrr.

He would be waiting for them at Torstone on the river Tor.

And cursing my name as we speak, said King Robin, for giving him such a difficult task, no doubt.

He gave me the impression of being more than able, said the archer.

Rhowyn thought the archer gave the same such impression. Tall and lean with short cropped grey hair, the archer spoke softly and seldom, but when he did speak, the king listened. An ease of familiarity between the two made Rhowyn wonder who the hooded warden might be. But so far his father had refused to answer any of Rhowyn's questions. Saying only that the archer's story was his own to tell, if and when he wanted to share it with Rhowyn.

Sir Roger had chosen a white mill wheel on a blue field for his coat of arms, and it was his banner bearing te same that they spied first, flying over the twin gate towers of Torstone.

A stone bridge spanned the river. On the opposite bank sprawled Torstone itself, a hamlet of timber and daub houses with straw thatched roofs.

I don't see any Skraaal, said Rhowyn. Where are the spiders?

On the other side of that low hill, the archer told him. The people of Torstone aren't especially fond of them.

Saaal Soool couldn't understand why. They are no more dangerous than cows in a field, he said.

You've never been kicked by a cow, laughed King Robin.

I'd like to see somebody try to milk one, said a castle guard.

Sir Roger and four of his men at arms in blue surcoats met them in the shadow of the twin towers. With Sir Roger was the Sheriff of Torstone, a keg of a man whose brow was furrowed by a perpetual frown.

The sheriff was most pleased to see Saaal Soool. Possibly because it meant the none to soon absence of thousands of enormous spiders from the hills around his home.

I was told King Robin was coming, said the sheriff, shifting from foot to foot and side to side to look past the horsemen in front of him, as if the king might yet be coming down the road behind them.

When Sir Roger bowed to the ordinary looking fellow on a tall, but also rather ordinary looking horse, and said, Your Majesty, the sheriff looked dumbfounded.

Eh? What? Him?

Yes, said Robin, hiding a smile. Me.

Better late than never, the sheriff doffed his feathered hat and tripped over his tongue.

Oh... Ah... Um... Your Royal Highness.

That would be me, teased Rhowyn.

Eh? What? You?

My son, said King Robin. The Crown Prince.

Oh... Ah... Eh?

Best quit now, Sir Roger told the sheriff, while you still have your head.

Lining the one and only street to welcome their sovereign, the people of Torstone were as confused and befuddled as the sheriff.

Where is he, then?

I think that's him.

Eh?

Where?

There.

What?

Him on the horse.

They're all on horses!

He don't look like no king I ever saw.

How would you know? You've never seen one.

His beard needs combing.

Good Sheriff, called Rhowyn, your city is as splendid as we at court have heard.

At which the good sheriff puffed up and positively beamed. Eh? Ah... Thank you, Your Er...

Royal Highness, prompted Sir Roger.

Oh... Um... Yes. Your Royal Highness.

Having left the sheriff to peacock, the knights, guards, and Sir Roger's men at arms were told they could luncheon at a nearby tavern, while Saaal Soool took Prince Rhowyn the see the spider herds, and King Robin and the archer went with Sir Roger to meet the Skraaal elders.

Would the young Saaal like to ride a spider? Asked Saaal Soool.

Yes! Said Rhowyn.

He began to have second thoughts when he saw his first arachniim.

Faith! He exclaimed.

Rhowyn never said things like Faith or Certe. Well, almost never. Ye Olde Words were only for Ye Olde Folk.

A young male, the spider's body was the length of a hay waggon, and easily the height of two full grown men on it's eight, slender legs.

Females, Saaal Soool told him, could grow three times as large.

The young male's abdomen and legs were the reddish brown of rusting iron. Its thorax was darker, the colour of dried blood, and striped like tortoise shell. The pincered chelicerae and two pedipalps, for holding down its prey, were a deep bottle green. And the orbs of its four eyes polished onyx.

How... How do I mount it? Asked Rhowyn.

The Skraaal herder who'd guided the spider to them by tapping it with the end of a long, thin pole made a back of the throat sound, like he was hawking up a gob of phlegm, and the spider kneeled on its four front legs.

They don't bite, do they?

The Skraaal laughed his rasping laugh and said, No. They wrap their food in silk, while it is still alive, leave it to die a slow lingering death, and then, when the body has begun to rot, they pierce it with a tube-like tongue and suck the corpse dry.

But they only eat other spiders... Right?

Yes, said Saaal Soool. Mostly.

The plan King Robin and Sir Roger outlined to the Skruuuliim was this:..

South as far as the Sylverne River.

There they'd put as many Skraaal as they could on Bearskinner's longships. The rest could follow the river south-west with their spiders.

At the border with Navarre, King Robin and Prince Rhowyn would leave them and return to Castellayne.

The longships would sail home to the islands of Greyshale.

Sir Roger would stay with them until they reached the city of Kaldiz.

Where the duke's men would be waiting to escort them the rest of the way to the southern marches.

And the green man? Asked an elder.

My duty is here, replied the archer.

How do we know the Navarre will not kill us all? Asked another.

We have something the duke wants, said King Robin. My son.

Robin found Rhowyn riding his spider with Saaal Soool sitting behind him.

Father! Called Rhowyn, bright eyed and cheek flushed. This is Nibbler! Can I keep him?