THE CHILDREN OF THE SPIDER, Part 3

You could tell that a war was brewing. As Jonah and I rode north, the preparations were obvious. Samurai patrols prowled the roads and fields, ranger teams slipped through the woods, road-crossings were heavily guarded, militia units were drilling, and fortifications were being augmented.

More subtly, the fields were almost empty. The first crops of Spring had been planted, but only a few of the local farmers were present. The militia had been called up for the upcoming campaign season.

Just before evening, Jonah and I encountered a file of a dozen samurai moving down the road. Their chain hauberks bore the emblem of Lord Ashe. We took our horses off the track, yielding the road to them.

"Ben!" the leading samurai suddenly called out as we approached. There was a grin on his face as he gave me a samurai's fist-on-breast salute.

The other samurai in the column began cheerfully calling out to me.

"About time you showed up!" a young samurai yelled.

"Faye must be back home!" laughed another samurai - he'd apparently noticed how battered I was. "I'm surprised you can still walk!"

A chorus erupted that consisted of good-natured, but obscene, commentary about Faye and I.

"You're just jealous!" I called back. "Since you were sent here, you've all been dating your right hands!"

That triggered a raucous flood of mock-indignant responses. The back-and-forth banter continued until we followed a twist in the road around a copse of trees and lost sight of the samurai.

Jonah looked puzzled. "We're out of Lord Ashe's holdings, aren't we?" he asked.

I nodded. "This is Lord Ballards's holding - he controls the region just north of Lord Ashe. The two of them generally get along. Some of Ballard's samurai are with Lord Crowe on a raiding mission, but Lord Ashe has provided some troops to cover the southern edge of the Ballard frontier."

Jonah gave me a surprised look. "That's more trust and cooperation than I'd expect from Blood lords. They're almost always squabbling about one thing or another."

"You're right," I agreed, "but the local lords have sworn an oath before an altar of the Storm Goddess. All disagreements are on hold as they support one another against the Creed."

"I've heard of that oath," Jonah replied slowly. "I understand the Blood take it seriously."

"Very seriously," I confirmed. "Breaking a Storm-oath is almost unthinkable. The ancient friendship between Lady Ororo and the Old One is nothing to be trifled with."

Jonah cocked his head at me and smiled slightly. He seemed to be examining me closely.

"What?" I asked.

"For just a moment, I thought I was talking to a Blood - not a Spider."

That made me pause. Then I shrugged it off.

"I've spent a lot of time with the Blood," I told Jonah. "They're a dangerous and difficult people, but there's also a lot to admire."

Jonah nodded. "I won't disagree with that."

We rode in silence for a few hundred yards. Then Jonah spoke up again.

"By the way... did you know that the worship of the Lady of Blades is becoming more common back in the Towers?"

That made me frown. The Lady of Blades is one of the Blood's three goddesses. Among Spiders - particularly youngsters - there's always been a certain affection for her. We are a sword-wielding people, and the priestesses and temple guards of the Edged Lady are awesomely skilled with their weapons. In my younger days, I'd trained at the Queen temple, and I wasn't the only Spider in attendance. However, I kept to the ways of my ancestors and treated the temple as a deeply-honored dojo, not as a place of worship. The priestesses of the temple didn't seem to be offended. They only asked that I learn their skills and use them justly, not that I kneel before their altar. I will always respect them for that.

"How are our elders handling it?" I asked curiously - and maybe with a sense of resignation.

Jonah pursed his lips and thought for a while before answering.

"So far, they've been cautious. There have been some generally worded statements that Spiders should be respectful of the Blood goddesses, but shouldn't take up with them. And there hasn't been any kind of crack-down. At least not yet."

"Getting angry might be a mistake," I pointed out. "There have been other times in our history when Spiders have toyed with worshiping the Edged Lady. It always passes."

Jonah hesitated. Then he spoke again. "Worship of the Lady has begun to appear in the full Legion."

I let out a low whistle. Each Spider clan maintains a house Legion - a force of skilled warriors, supplemented by the best of the clan militia. But when a Spider says "Legion" in the way Jonah had just used the word, he was referring to the assembled armed might of the entire Spider-Folk. The core of the full Legion is always mobilized... for the obvious reason that there are a lot fewer Spiders in this world than non-Spiders. It just wouldn't be wise to let down our guard.

The Legion is a conservative institution - it has to be - and a sudden influx of young warriors who'd sworn their souls to the Lady of Blades would not be welcome. And since the words "young hot-head" go together for good reason, that was trouble waiting to happen.

"How's that going?" I asked warily. Actually, I was pretty sure I knew the answer.

"Not well," Jonah answered regretfully. "There have been some duels. Nobody's died, but it's probably just a matter of time. There's talk of not allowing religious symbols of the Lady to be displayed by Legionnaires on active duty."

"That won't work," I responded flatly. "A worshiper of the Lady of Blades considers their weapon to be a religious symbol, but regulations say that a warrior on Legion duty must be armed at all times. Telling a Spider-Legionnaire who worships the Lady that they can't display a religious symbol is an order that can't be obeyed."

Jonah suddenly looked worried. "I didn't know that."

"When you get home, talk to my father," I growled. "Don't let him make any damn fool mistakes."

Jonah nodded in agreement.

Just before nightfall, we entered the village of Ballard. It was smaller than Ashe, but had a tavern. There were guards on the road into town - and probably all around the town periphery. My badge allowed us to enter without any problem.

Jonah was looking around as we hitched our horses in front of the local tavern. As a boy born and raised in Nyack, he was obviously unimpressed. "I thought we're going to camp."

"This place doesn't have rooms to rent," I told him. "There's a commons on the north side of the village, just outside the wall. We'll settle in there. However, I don't see why we can't have a hot meal. This place has a pretty good venison stew."

Jonah smiled cheerfully.

A bard was playing as we entered the tavern. He was a grey-haired Folk clad in travel-worn finery. Originally, his clothes had been brightly colored, but time and travel had faded them. However, he was a good hand with a guitar and had a decent voice. He was singing a song about being unforgiven. The song was supposedly centuries old, but it seemed to me that it still echoed with the original writer's rage.

Jonah and I both tossed coins into the bard's cap - it was resting on a stool next to him - before we sat down. Tipping a bard is considered to be good luck. I once asked Lady Anna if that belief was actually the result of a bardic conspiracy. She smiled and told me that I was smarter than I looked.

After a barmaid took our order, we settled back and listened to the music.

"Do you think he's as good as Lady Anna?" Jonah suddenly asked me.

I took a moment to critically consider the bard's work. "He's good, but not that good. Of course, that's no real offense to him. When Lady Anna settled down, it was something of a tragedy for the tavern-goers of the east-coast."

"I heard her once," Jonah said almost wistfully. "In a music hall on the edge of the Towers. She was impressive."

I gave Jonah a surprised look. That would have been before he was full-grown.

"How old were you?" I asked

"Not very," he admitted, "but it was a place noted for pretty lady bards who didn't wear much in the way of clothes when they performed - and dancers who didn't wear anything at all. I was curious."

I resisted the urge to ask any further questions. Lady Anna was known to have had a wild past, but that was the past. She was now a respectable married woman with children - and a phenomenally dangerous husband.

It was better to let the past remain the past.

Then a pretty girl wandered up to us. "Buy a girl a drink?" she asked with a pleasantly warm smile.

Speaking of not a lot of clothes... she was wearing the buttoned tunic of courtesan and the front was barely clasped. She was showing a lot of bare leg whenever she took a step, and there was a deep 'V' of skin all the way from her neck to between her breasts.

"Sure," Jonah said agreeably as he waved to catch the barmaid's attention. The girl sat with us. When the barmaid got back to us, she had three cups instead of two.

"My name's Leah," the girl said. She was a pretty brunette, with brown eyes and a spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks. It seemed to me that she was way too pretty for a place as small as Ballard. Her accent was also a bit off - she wasn't local.

However, she didn't radiate the aura of danger that my people can sense. She had no particular ill-will towards either Jonah or I.

"I'm Jonah. This is Ben."

I nodded politely.

Leah took a hefty belt of ale. Then she licked her lips in a manner that struck me as more appreciative than professional. Actually, I had to agree with her - the local ale was pretty good.

"Been in town long?" Jonah asked her.

Leah shrugged. "Just passing through. How about you two?"

"Same with us," I said.

Our stew showed up. The barmaid put two wooden bowls and a pair of horn spoons in front of us. I noticed that Leah specifically kept her eyes on us and wasn't looking at our food.

"Get her a bowl," I told the waitress.

The barmaid nodded and left.

"Thanks," Leah said quietly.

The bard finished his song. Jonah, Leah, and I joined in on a well-deserved round of applause. The bard bowed and began another song. That one was a traditional love ballad. I didn't find it as compelling as the previous song.

"Headed to Nyagra?" Jonah asked as he dug into his stew. Nyagra was the nearest town of any size. It was the kind of place someone like Leah would find more congenial to her line of work.

Leah made a disgusted face - which made her freckles dance impishly. "Maybe. I got here more or less by accident, and I don't have any real competition. The local farmers and shopkeeepers are an okay bunch, but I've had some guys try to pay me with chickens instead of coin. It might be time to move on."

Leah's bowl of stew arrived, she attacked it hungrily.

"Say, are you two on your way to Nyagra?" she asked in between mouthfuls.

There was really no reason to tell her anything but the truth. "Actually, we're on our way north," I told her.

"Too bad," Leah said. "Nyagra would be a good place to settle in for a while. Tell you what, if you're ever in town again and are headed towards Nyagra, look me up. I could use a pair of yojimbos along the way. And I'll pay you in kind. I don't have a problem with threesomes and it'll be a good time for all of us."

Jonah shook his head regretfully. "I wish we could help."

He did a good job of putting a note of horny regret in his words. Or maybe that was how he actually felt. As I'd already said, Leah was a rather pretty girl.

Leah licked her spoon and dropped it into her now-empty bowl. "That's too bad. But for right now, how about it? Anybody care for a ride? And like I said, threesomes are okay."

"Sorry, but I'm a little low on coin right now," Jonah replied - always a polite way to say no.

"Sure," I told Leah. "Where can we go?"

Jonah looked a bit surprised, but quickly put a less obvious expression on his face.

"The guy who owns the stables rents me his loft," Leah suggested. "If you don't mind hay, it's clean and private."

I shoved what was left of my stew in front of Jonah. Then I dropped enough coins on the table to more than pay for our meal.

"Have a drink on me," I told Jonah.

Jonah nodded amiably as he turned his chair to face the bard.

Leah and I walked out of the tavern.

A very young Folk stable-boy - he was obviously infatuated with Leah - let us into the stables. Horses in the stalls nickered curiously as we walked past.

I steadied the ladder while Leah climbed into the loft ahead of me. When it was my turn, I simply jumped up to the loft.

The loft was cozy, dry, and the hay smelled fresh. There wasn't much light - just what trickled up from a lantern near the stable door. The loft window was cracked open to admit a cool measure of fresh air. There was another courtesan tunic hanging from a hook - it was drying after having been recently washed. Some other clothes and miscellaneous traveling gear were neatly piled in the corner furthest from the ladder. A pair of blankets were spread out in the middle of the loft, the hay underneath forming a cushion.

Leah kicked off her sandals and then removed her tunic, hanging it next to the other one. Her bare body was only dimly illuminated, but she was a striking woman.

She nodded towards the blankets. "Unless you want something special, why don't you just lie down and let me take care of business?"

"Sure," I said as I yanked off my boots. Leah helped me out of my jacket, and then the linen shirt I wore under it, but that was as far as I was willing to undress.

Leah put a hand on my chest as she examined me critically. "You've been hurt," she said. Her fingers traced a particularly nasty yellow and purple bruise that not long ago had been an ugly claw wound. It would scar, but I'd eventually recover

I nodded. "Just this morning, I still felt pretty bad. But my kind heals quickly - not as fast as the Blood, but fast."

A smile came over Leah's face. "That's good. Now, why don't you take your pants off and lie down? I'll see what I can do to make you feel even better. Don't worry, I'll be gentle with you."

I shook my head. A resigned look came over Leah's face and she let out slightly impatient sigh. Then she lit a tiny stub of a candle and we lay down together on the blanket. A minimal breeze from the loft window playing over us. The warm light of the candle made Leah's skin look like sunset and cream.

Leah was on laying her side next to me, with her head on my shoulder. Her body was warm and smooth. It was a quietly pleasant moment.

Then, holding her hands above her breasts, Leah began to sign. In a world filled with keen-sensed Blood, privacy can be difficult. Sign language is a fairly common skill. In some lines of work, it's a vital skill.

*Hey, boss, long time no see,* Leah "said" to me.

*Hello, yourself,* I signed back. *Anything new to report?*

*I just met a handsome traveler who won't let me bang him silly. Which is a pity since I've always been curious about him. Leaving me hanging like this is really hurting his chances of getting a courtesy farewell blowjob.*

*We never settled on a price.*

*I assume I'm priceless, but I'll settle for sapphires and rubies.*

*I promise that the very next time I have some, I'll give them to you.*

*Liar. You'll give them to that wife of yours instead. But to answer your question, there's nothing to report that wasn't in my last message. Ballard and his people still think I work for them. There've been a lot of troop movements, but nothing out of the ordinary given the situation. Ballard himself is on the Creed frontier, checking in with his troops. There have been some skirmishes with the Creed, but nothing Ballard's people can't handle. His samurai and people remain loyal - nobody seems to be maneuvering for his position.*

*What about our samurai?*

*They seem to be doing a good job. And there have been no clashes with the locals - except for a few bar-fights.*

*Anything else about our people?*

*Well, your samurai are a pretty basic bunch, but young Casey is kinky in an adorable kind of way. The last time we were together, he wanted to...*

I firmly enclosed Leah's hands in one of mine. She let out an audible sigh. Then she turned her head and stuck her tongue in my ear.

"Gah!" I exclaimed - mostly out of surprise.

*Don't interrupt! It's rude!* she signed angrily after I released her hands.

*I don't need to know anything about the sexual peculiarities of my samurai!*

"You're just weird," Leah told me with an exasperated shake of her head.

Jonah was still in the tavern when I returned.

"How did it go?" he asked as he clambered to his feet.

"I recommend her," I told him. Which was true in more than one way. Leah was a good courtesan, but she was also a fine spy. She was by far the best pair of eyes and ears we had in Lord Ballard's holding. The fact she was actually a Wilder who was immune to psychic intrusion made her even more valuable.

Jonah gave me a lop-sided smile, picked up his wine-cup, and then drained it.

We left the tavern.

Several cargo wagons were parked in the commons, while draft-horses on long tethers grazed or dozed nearby. Most of the teamsters were already asleep either in or under their wagons, but several were on guard duty. Also, there were a few small tents pitched here and there. Some of them were still dimly illuminated by the embers of dying cook-fires, but their owners were almost all tucked away for the night. However, near one tent I could see the bright red spark of someone smoking a pipe. A stray breeze carried the scent of flavored tobacco across the commons.

There was a copse of mature oak trees on the northern edge of the commons - tradition forbid anyone from cutting them down, since their acorns were gathered during the fall harvest and distributed equally among the villagers. Jonah and I fed and watered our horses after tying them off, then we jumped into the largest of the trees and found ourselves a pair of comfortable spots. Our perches dangled more than thirty feet above the ground. Spiders are quite capable of sleeping in such circumstances. We don't fall and most of us sleep best when we have some altitude.

Then Jonah asked a question that had obviously been bothering him for some time.

"When we find Jessica, what will you tell her?" he asked.

That same question had been nagging at me ever since Jonah showed up. I didn't know what I should tell Jessica about her mother's death.

If I told her the truth, then Jessica might very well decide to seek vengeance - I could certainly understand that. I didn't want to think about the consequences. Jessica was a trained Black Widow assassin, but my family were also a dangerous bunch. If Jessica ran amok in the Towers, it would be a bloodbath as long as she could maintain the advantage of surprise. However, surprise is not an easy thing to achieve against a Spider. Eventually she would be hunted down and killed.

"I don't know," I told Jonah. It was the honest answer, but it left us both unsatisfied.

Jonah didn't respond.

The next morning, I felt much better. Jumping down from the tree was painless. My wounds had almost completely vanished.

Jonah and I tended to our horses and then made a quick breakfast of jerky, cheese, and bread. Then we mounted up and continued north. Just before noon, we crossed into Crowe territory. At that point, since we weren't exactly sure where to find Lord Ashe, we had to start asking questions.

"Your lord passed through here a few days ago," a grizzled samurai told us. He was commanding a mixed pack of painfully young samurai and militia who were guarding a bridge and an associated watermill. They also probably constituted the local ready reserve. Obviously, Lord Crowe's veterans were elsewhere, and the old samurai had been entrusted with keeping an eye on some of the lord's less experienced warriors.

"He had two Wilder women and about a dozen mounted samurai with him," the old samurai continued.

I recognized the samurai. Years ago, just after James declared himself the Lord of the rebuilding village of Ashe, Lord Crowe and Lord Ballard allied together to test his claim. In the resulting battle, the old samurai and I made a pretty serious effort to kill each other. I carry the scars from that fight to this day. The old samurai had been a canny and dangerous opponent.

However, he'd aged quite a bit since then. If they can avoid a violent death, Blood live long lives. But, just like Folk and Wilder, as the end approaches they can go into a rapid decline. I could see the signs in the old samurai. He wasn't the same Blood who'd fought me just a few years ago.

I wondered if he recognized me.

Then the samurai chuckled and shook his head in the manner of a man confronting a world that had suddenly become extraordinary. "I've been a samurai for over a hundred years. I've seen many odd things, but nothing as peculiar as lords casually wandering around each other's holdings. We live in strange times."

"It's also a time where samurai don't need to die in battle with other samurai." Jonah pointed out. "That seems like a good thing."

The old samurai gave us a wolfish grin. "Soon enough, there will be more than enough dying. There's a war coming with the Creed - I can smell it coming from all sides. Rumor has it that the local lords took a Storm-oath of unity just the other day. Troops from multiple lords are within Creed territory. Everyone's... cooperating."

He said the word 'cooperating' as if it were a foreign concept.

"We do live in mad times," I told him - maybe a bit dryly.

The old samurai scratched his chin thoughtfully. "True... but perhaps it's an overdue kind of madness."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" I asked, making sure that my tone was curious rather than challenging.

"Lord Crowe is a good lord," the old samurai replied with a shrug. "He's made it easy for his vassals to keep to the ways of the Blood. I've fought for him, treated the Folk and the Wilder fairly, honored the goddesses, and took a wife and had children - all as the Old One decreed. But..."

Then he paused.

"But then there's the Creed," I finished quietly. The conversation was wandering in an uncomfortable - and potentially dangerous - direction. It would be smart to be courteous and careful.

"There's always the Creed," the old samurai sighed. "My father and uncles died fighting them. I've fought them since I was a boy. I've piled a hundred and more Creed heads at the feet of my lord. And yet at the end of every day, every season, and every year, the Creed are still on their side of the frontier and nothing has really changed."

We were now smack in the realm of Blood religious lore. I felt it best to keep my silence and let the samurai do the talking. Jonah wisely followed my lead.

"The Old One's words are plain," the old samurai continued very seriously, his eyes meeting mine. "The Creed are to be destroyed. Not just kept on their side of a border. Not just pushed back in empty skirmishes. They are to be destroyed."

Jonah and I nodded in agreement. Only a fool would argue with a Blood about that.

In the eyes of the old samurai, there appeared a glint of something dangerous. "We haven't heeded the Old One. I've tried to ignore that, but the thought has haunted me for decades. When my spirit finally faces that Old One, what am I to say?"

"Perhaps things have changed?" I suggested quietly.

"I hope so," the samurai said with sideways glance at the youngsters of his pack. "I hope so, even though it means that many of mine will die."

"May the Old One be with us," Jonah and I said simultaneously. It's fair to say that we were being sincere.

The samurai looked surprised for a moment. Then grimly pleased.

"May he be with us all," he replied. Then, with a wave of his hand, he allowed us to pass.

"By the way," he asked as we trotted past. "How's the leg?"

Ah, he had recognized me.

I smiled. "It was a few weeks before I finally stopped limping. How about you?"

He chuckled. "That sword thrust you put through my chest was a bitch, but the Old One's blessing was with me. You put me out of that fight, but I was on my feet by the end of the day."

"Those were good days," he added. Again, there was something distant in his eyes.

I knew what he was looking at. It was something Jonah and I couldn't see, but it was also something that everyone encountered eventually.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Heath," he replied. "There's no need to give me your name, senior samurai. I know of Benjamin the Spider."

Jonah waited until we were a good mile past the bridge before speaking.

"There's something wrong with that samurai," he eventually said to me.

I nodded. "He wants to die."

Jonah gave me a startled look.

"He's old," I explained. "He's been left behind to keep an eye on youngsters, rather than leading troops at the frontier. His kind doesn't deal well with the limitations of age. And to die killing Creed is a holy thing to the Blood - it means you have given your life to fulfill the ancient duty demanded by the Old One. As the war with the Creed grows, I imagine he'll ask Lord Crowe for permission to die. Then he'll find his way to a battlefield. He's a tough bastard, so it may take some time, but he'll eventually find what he's looking for."

Jonah was silent for a while. Then he spoke again.

"What is the Blood conception of the afterlife?" he finally asked.

"A lot like ours," I responded. "The spirits of the dead join their ancestors. However, there is a difference. The Blood spirits will wait until the last Creed is slain, and then they will wage their final battle against the Creed spirits. However, the Blood will not fight alone - the spirits of all who opposed the Creed in life may join them. When that final battle is done, the Creed will have been utterly stricken from our universe. It's said that even the memory of their existence will vanish, and the souls of those the Creed tormented in life will finally find peace."

Jonah considered that before continuing. "Then what happens to the Blood ancestors? What's after the afterlife?"

Even when he was just a boy, Jonah had always been full of difficult questions. That hadn't changed. It probably never would.

I let out a long sigh and then shrugged my shoulders. This had turned into a dour conversation. "That's a matter of speculation. A common belief is that the Blood spirits will also vanish. Some even say that all Blood - living as well as dead - will simply fade away, since the world will no longer need them."

"So... if you believe that, then the Blood exist only to destroy the Creed?" Jonah asked thoughtfully. "And the end of the Creed is also the end of the Blood?"

I just nodded.

"The Blood are a grim people," Jonah said slowly.

I nodded again.