(3)

When Saurus arrived at the head of the column; carefully avoiding the many rabbit holes his horse would break an ankle with, he halted around the small gathering of Captains. They were mostly mounted and circled the thing that had caused the march to halt.

“What is it?” Saurus called out irritably before getting a clear view. He wanted to know why his Captains had not dealt with the problem and got the army moving again. They had already lost many miles today, Saurus would not permit moreover a minor blockage.

The Captains moved their mounts to give Saurus and his son full view of the spectacle. Saurus felt his horse beneath his legs tense up and retreat slightly.

“Easy girl,” he said, patting the warhorse on her neck.

Alaric dismounted and approached the thing obstructing the path with childish interest.

“By the God’s,” Alaric said. Hadwin was also on foot, his large bearskin coat hanging loosely over boiled leathers, battle-axe in hand.

“We found it like this, my Lord,” Hadwin said.

Saurus looked down at the creature in utter disbelief, it looked human at first glance. Its skeletal torso was lean and white as chalk. The head was bald and smooth, the mouth two sizes too big. Its eyes were nowhere to be seen, in their place’s sat two hollow sockets. It was beneath the torso that remained most frightening.

Where the stomach ended, one might have expected two human legs to be attached to the naked body, instead, a spider’s abdomen sat inflated, and connected to it, eight spider legs. The abdomen was as large as a horse from neck to tail, the legs equally as long. But they were bent inward in tight rows. A grotesque sight to witness. Hadwin was the only one that had gotten close to the creature.

“It’s been fletched awfully good,” Hadwin acknowledged and Saurus, so encapsulated by what he was seeing only now noticed. Buried deep in the abdomen of the spider, creature, thing; were several arrow shafts. Saurus thought the arrows were fletched with olive feathers at first until Hadwin pulled one free with great effort. The other Captains covered their mouths as the black putrid blood spilt out, issuing a foul odour.

“These feathers…” Hadwin announced. “There tree leaves?”

There was a peak of interest among the Captains and Alaric who approached swiftly.

“Be careful,” Saurus said without thought. Seeing his son approach the dead creature so naively gave him alarm.

“It's quite dead my Lord.” Assured Windermere from atop his mount. Saurus did not respond.

“Father,” Alaric said turning with the arrow shaft in hand. His face was fixed in an expression of astonishment “These fletching’s are leaves? Its head…bone, and its shaft…” Alaric gripped the pale green shaft in two hands and applied light pressure till the wood bent. “I think its Sigillaria.” He finished.

Captain Tookean, a heavyset man in plate and mail, chuckled.

“You must be mistaken,” he said through a ginger beard. “There isn’t a Sigillaria tree this side of the Empire.”

Alaric looked up offended.

“Then explain how this was made?” he said hotly, holding up the arrow in evidence. “It’s Sigillaria wood, I assure you.”

“We could argue about which wood is which all day,” chimed in Windermere, grinning slightly. “I’m more concerned with whatever this thing is.”

All the Captains agreed, their eyes fell once again to the creature at there feet. It was still lying there, unmoving. Its spider-legged body caked in mud; its pale skin torso limply stretched out, and those eyes, or lack of, seemed to be staring at all of them. Saurus looked over his shoulder at the column of soldiers, all of which seemed to be trying to get a better look at what was causing the hold-up.

“Perhaps we should burn it?” asked Hadwin, looking down at it with his battle-axe still in hand.

Some of the Captains agreed, mainly the ones that shrivelled their noses from its odour.

“Leave it,” ordered Saurus. The Captains all turned, even Alaric looked complexed. “Let the men walk past and see what the foe looks like. Better they acquaint themselves with it before we arrive at Wetbrook.”

None of the Captains objected even the ones that approved to burning the creature moments earlier.

“Captain Tookean,” said Saurus, “Reform the men and—” There was an ear crippling scream that suddenly erupted. Saurus himself ducked and held his ears from the onslaught.

“REEEE-AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR” The spider creature suddenly wailed. Its eyeless face screeched in absolute terror, or rather pain, its legs and arms flailing about momentarily. Captain Windermere’s horse reeled in fear and flung him from the saddle to dash off into the foliage. Saurus’ own horse kicked its hind legs, then tried to flee, but Saurus pulled at the reins hard. Alaric fell backwards, slipping on a patch of mud, soiling his cloak.

Hadwin brought his battle-axe down hard on the creature in a heartbeat, and like snapping the string on a musical instrument, the wailing ceased with an immediate: thunk. Hadwin had buried the bladed curve of the axe in the creature’s head. He wrestled it free, using his foot as purchase and brought it down again, this time at the neck. The head detached with sickening ease and rolled away slightly, spilling out its black blood like a stream.

When the drama had settled Saurus turned to calm the soldiers, some of whom had unsheathed their short swords in response to the sudden wailing. Captain Tookean dismounted to help Windermere to his feet, reluctantly the fallen Captain accepted the help. His left greave was stained brown with mud from the fall.

“Now it's dead.” Stated Hadwin with utmost seriousness. One side of his axe gleamed with the black corrupted blood of the creature.

“Burn it,” Saurus said softly. “To make sure.”