Iron Tongue

CHAPTER EIGHT

The mountain arachnids came up the ridge, fanned out in a semicircle and blocked any possible escape. Lan Martak stood with his back against a cliff of cold, cold stone. He looked down into a raging river easily five hundred feet below. It was suicide to jump into that churning, boiling waterway without knowing how deep it was. Even if it were deep enough, the force with which he' d hit the water might be too great. The shock could kill as surely as a knife to the gut.

If he stayed, the spiders got him. Lan made an instant decision, tensed, and took two running steps forward. The third one found only five hundred feet of space beneath him.

He screamed.

He screamed and heard the whispering sounds that were all too familiar to him from long association with Krek. Hardly had the man fallen ten feet when the first of the hunting strands glued itself to his left arm. He turned and jerked, trying to escape it. A second, a third, a tenth all burned against his flesh. He fell another fifteen feet and then snapped to a halt, dangling beneath the spiders.

Helplessly, Lan felt himself being drawn back up.

The thick silvered strands of webstuff were virtually unbreakable. He sawed through one with his dagger, but the others bound him too securely. By the time a second web had parted under his furious assault, the arachnids had him on the ridge once more.

Surrounded by the dozens of spiders towering over him, he simply lay as limp as his shaking body allowed. Amber droplets sluggishly traced their way down the strands and touched his skin. He yelped in pain, then quickly bit back any further sound. The solvent released the hunting strands from his flesh.

Only then did he attempt escape again.

He battered himself against a bristly leg, grabbed hold, and pulled himself to his feet. The spider kicked out, chitonous claw threatening to rip open his guts.

" Sorry, old spider," mumbled Lan as he jerked out his dagger and made a swift cut. He would have hamstrung any mammal. As it was, he only produced a turgid flow from a shallow cut. No damage done, except enraging the spider.

Lan Martak dodged the mandibles clacking shut just inches above his head. Keeping low, he darted in and out between legs until he actually thought he had a chance of winning free.

The hissing as a hunting web wound itself around his legs killed any hope he had.

" No, it won' t end this way!" he raged. Lan struggled, then calmed. He hated the idea of using magic against these creatures who were so much like his friend, but survival depended on it. His personal life meant nothing in the worlds- spanning struggle against Claybore; but if he died, all hope of defeating the dismembered sorcerer died with him. The fate of worlds depended on him, yet he couldn' t bring himself to employ a fire spell against his captors. Wanton slaughter like that might please Claybore; Lan was better than the sorcerer he fought across the universe. If he didn' t live up to his own ideals, why fight at all?

A small spell, the fire conjuration took hardly any concentration. But Lan put everything he had into it. He felt the sparks dancing along his fingertips.

" He burns!" cried one of the spiders separated from the scene. " Stop him or he will set us all aflame!"

The spiders' fear of fire matched Krek' s. Angry hissing sounded and Lan felt hundreds of tendrils strike his body, spin him around, encapsulate him. The fire burned sluggishly at his fingers and he found himself unable to bring it into full- raging heat as long as his arms were pinned. Claws turned him about, stood him upright, and then came the real cocooning. Hissing, whispering softly, the webs fell about his body, layer upon layer until only his face remained free.

" Don' t cover my nose and mouth," he begged. " You' ll suffocate me."

The arachnids argued among themselves about how far to go in the cocooning process. At last they decided Lan presented no further danger to them, either magically or physically. They allowed him to keep his face free.

" Watch it!" he cried, as he felt his feet yanked out from under him. He landed heavily, bruising his shoulder even through the cushioning cocoon.

A web lashed to his feet dragged him down the side of the mountain. By the time they reached the valley, Lan regretted that the spiders hadn' t simply killed him. Every joint and muscle in his body had been bruised and strained. Uttering small numbing spells helped him for a while, but the use of the magic grew too tiring; he fought against the red tide of pain washing against his consciousness and threatening to drown him.

He rolled over in the dust of the valley floor and got a fair look around him. Dozens of spiders remained on patrol not twenty yards distant. Even if he could use his fire spell without seriously burning himself before the cocoon strands parted, the spiders would be on him in an instant, added webs weighing him down until no hope remained.

" There has to be some other way. But what? What?"

The man' s mind raced. The fire spell kept returning to be the one most potent against the spiders, but its use was limited by his desire for self- survival. And Lan Martak hated to use the spell if it appeared he was going to die; such retribution accomplished nothing in the present circumstances. It certainly would do little to fight Claybore.

" A spell," he said to himself. " Cold? No good. None of the others is easily done, either." He wished he could reach the grimoire carefully tucked away under his tunic. The spells therein might hold the key to his escape. But with arms pinned and the grimoire securely bandaged inside the cocoon he might as well have wished for total release.

Two of the spiders trotted over. One of them spoke.

" You have been chosen for an honor totally unworthy of you, human."

" What' s that?"

" Food for the Webmaster' s hatchlings. Hoist him aloft."

Lan Martak screamed as the strand around his feet tightened. He felt himself rushing upward into the sky, feet first. His forehead brushed the ground for the briefest of instants and then he dangled head down fifty feet in the air. Lan controlled his triphammering heart and tried to relax. It wasn' t easy suspended so far above the valley floor.

Lan Martak felt the sticky strands around his ankles quiver and shake as if some huge being nibbled at his flesh. The involuntary movement on his part caused a slight swing. He got an unwanted view of the valley, the web from which he dangled, and the sides of the canyon. And on one slow circuit he saw a spider slowly making its way toward him along the aerial pathway.

He swallowed hard, trying not to panic. His magic had availed him little. Without the use of his hands he couldn' t properly conjure. At one point he had even decided it was better to die in flames than to hang here awaiting dozens of hungry spiderlets- but he hadn' t been able to conjure up the fire spell at all.

Now they came for him. To eat him. Pieces slashed off and fed to newborns.

He might live for days before finally perishing.

The spider came closer and closer, Lan only getting brief glimpses as he swung to and fro faster and faster, due to the added weight on the web holding him.

" You appear distraught, friend Lan Martak. There is no need," came the familiar voice. " I am not the one who will eat you."

" That doesn' t make me feel any better, Krek."

" It ought to. Not every human is destined to be dinner for future Webmasters." Krek looped strands of his own sticky web material about the existing web and dropped so that he stared Lan in the eye. The human felt a surge of vertigo. For the spider, this was a perfectly natural way of conversing. What did it matter if one or both of the parties was upside down?

" I don' t want to be dinner for anyone, much less a hatchling of some damned Webmaster."

" I am a Webmaster," Krek pointed out gently. " But far removed from my domain." Lan thought the spider was going to cry as he launched off on still, another bout of nostalgic yearnings. " It seems that Murrk has hit upon what is the ideal situation. You see, his mate desired to devour him, as was her right and duty, but he convinced her that better nutrition lay in cocooned humans. An elegant solution to a problem, one that never occurred to me. After all, humans do taste funny. ' Tis a true pity I am not back in my Egrii Mountains with such a notion. Klawn and I can be reconciled. Ah, my lovely, petite Klawn."

" You' ll never see that domain again if you let them eat me."

" Why not? I walked the Road long before meeting you. While my plight was different then, it is no less perilous now. Imagine, a Webmaster of the Egrii Mountains, lost amid worlds, spurned by his own mate, combating evil. ' Tis the stuff of legends, but living it is less than happy for me. With Webmaster Murrk' s solution, my dilemma might be soluble after all."

Lan said nothing, composing his thoughts to argue with the alien brain. Krek was his friend, but the spider did not think like a human. To him being eaten was a fact of life, even if it was a fact he so cravenly ran from.

" What of this place?" asked Lan, changing his tactics. Any information gleaned about his arachnid captors might suggest ways of freeing himself from this heels- over- head predicament. " Have you spoken with the spiders about Claybore?"

" They know of him and the grey- clad soldiers he brings, but they count them as of little importance."

" What? But they can' t. Claybore' s dangerous!"

" To these fine spiders, he is only another human. I can appreciate their problem in discerning the difference between a skull and torso riding a mechanical contrivance and an ordinary human. The similarities are ever so obvious. One head, an insufficient number of appendages, no mandibles or sleek, furry legs."

" Can you rally them against Claybore?"

" I do not believe that is possible. Not in the sense you mean. To fight against Claybore and his troops if they enter this valley, yes. They will do that. To sally forth and do battle elsewhere, never. Or at least not unless the situation changes dramatically. It is difficult enough protecting this valley from the sorcerers in Wurnna."

" Wurnna?"

" Where this Iron Tongue rules. He makes life most deplorable in this valley, what with his raids and ugly spells. The locals do not like him one bit."

" Why does Iron Tongue even enter this valley? What' s here that draws him so?" Lan felt lightheaded from so much talking. Dangling upside down did nothing to improve his circulation or disposition.

" Here, nothing. But on the far end of this mountain range, in spots reached only by traveling this valley, seem to be mines of some sort. Murrk knows that the humans imprison their own kind and ofttimes even kill them in pursuit of whatever is locked within the ground."

Lan frowned. Was gold or silver so important that the wrath of the spiders was dared?

" Murrk is the Webmaster?" he asked.

" Oh, yes, a fine specimen. So regal, even royal in appearance, as befits a Webmaster." Krek vented a gusty sigh that caused the entire web to bounce from side to side. The effect on Lan was even more pronounced. The man closed his eyes and imagined he was aboard a windpowered sailing ship pitched on twenty foot waves. It didn' t help his churning stomach settle down.

Lan gasped out, " Stop moving. I: I' m getting sick."

" Well, mage, heal thyself," the spider said primly. " I rather enjoy the sensation of being once more in a decent- sized web, a hundred feet above the ground, feeling the gentle zephyrs wafting through the fur on my legs, tingling and ever so lightly teasing. That is a sensation second to none."

" I' m going to be sick."

" Do not despoil the landscape, friend Lan Martak. Murrk would not approve. He is most jealous of preserving this terrain for posterity."

Lan had to fight down the rising wave of nausea and almost gagged. But life or death hung in the balance. That thought entered his head and he started to laugh at the unintentional pun. Hung in the balance. Harder and harder he laughed, until hysteria seized control.

It was a more difficult battle fighting down this fear- fed laughter than it had been the physical upset.

" You take this setback hard, friend Lan Martak."

" Krek, can you get me down from here? We' ve got to escape this valley. If: if you like, you can return, but I must get away and find Inyx and the others. Fighting Claybore is all I want to do. It' s what I must do."

" Come back? Why would I do a silly thing like that?"

" But I thought you liked it here. The way you' ve been talking, I thought you:"

" Murrk is Webmaster. I cannot remain in the company of spiders at less than my former rank. It is too demeaning. As long as he rules this valley, I am merely a traveling dignitary. For me to stay is out of the question. Lan Martak, you say the most peculiar things."

" Then get me down!" Lan' s temper flared. His outburst caused the bobbing motion again. For once he silently thanked Murrk for hanging him so far above the ground. Up here there was no chance of banging his head on the ground.

" It is not that simple. I thought I had adequately explained it to you."

" Explained what? Get me down!"

" You are only a small victim in the war between spiders and humans on this world. Whatever is mined from the ground is very important to Iron Tongue and the others of Wurnna. They desecrate the valley, threaten spiderlings, even use fire to drive warriors away. Such high- handedness is not to be tolerated."

" What could they be mining?" mused Lan. This entire world remained at war, no matter if Claybore were added into the equation or not. Spider fought human, whether from Bron or Wurnna it made no difference. Jacy Noratumi fought Iron Tongue for imprisoning his subjects. And now Lan knew that Iron Tongue used those slaves from Bron in mines.

" Murrk says the stone glows in the dark. Is that of any real importance?"

" I have never heard of a rock doing that, at least not without either phosphorescent moss or slime on it. Or an ensorceled rock."

" Why would anyone place a spell on all the rock coming from a single location? If Iron Tongue desired that, why choose stone from a region guarded by my fellow arachnids?"

" Those aren' t questions I can answer dangling like this, Krek. Free me. Let' s run for the end of the valley."

" We would be stopped within yards. Murrk is doubling the number of his patrols. Claybore and the grey- clads march constantly in the direction of Bron, and the Webmaster does not like such intrusions."

" Bron will fall soon. Inyx is in danger."

" I fear you are correct, friend Lan Martak. Friend Inyx has chosen a dangerous path, unlike ourselves."

" There' s no danger to you, dammit!" snapped Lan. Regretting his outburst, he soothed the spider by saying, " We must aid Inyx. Only we can do it. You with your strength and me with my magics."

" My intelligence is important, also."

" Yes, that," Lan said patiently.

" And my devastating grasp of tactics."

" And your fighting prowess. Yes, all of those. Now how do you propose to get me down from here?"

" Eh? Oh, I suppose it behooves me to go speak with Murrk about this. His hatchlings won' t be hungry enough for a complete human for several days."

" How comforting."

" I thought it would ease your mind." Krek walked up his web and gained the main strands, striding off in a gait that was the epitome of grace. On the ground his eight- legged, rolling motion appeared awkward. In this aerial world of webs, he was perfectly suited for smooth, swift movement.

Lan Martak hoped Krek did not forget his stated purpose of freeing him. The thought of hungry spider- lings caused cold sweat to bead on his forehead. And worst of all, he couldn' t even wipe it off.

Krek approached the Webmaster and hung in the web at a respectful distance. By human conventions, they remained motionless for an impolite time; by arachnid standards, Krek hurried the conversation almost to the point of rudeness.

" Webmaster Murrk," he began. The other spider twitched slightly, indicating his distaste for such precipitous behavior, but Krek wasn' t to be swayed. Something of his human friend' s desperation had taken seed within him. To leave this pleasant valley bordered on the absurd, since he had searched world after world along the Road for such a wonderful place filled with his own kind, but other important duties had overtaken him in those wanderings.

Inyx. The spider thought carefully about the dark- haired woman whose manner differed so from other humans. She was almost bearable at times and the thread of bloodthirstiness in her pleased the spider. He understood her more than he understood the others, especially Lan Martak.

Lan. His powers grew at a pace none comprehended, much less the man himself. Krek' s unspiderly abruptness with Murrk was fueled by those powers. Claybore presented a clear and present danger, but Lan' s own untried, untrained powers seemed as much a hazard.

Allowing his friend to remain cocooned and dangling only added to the magical problems. By accident Lan Martak might hit upon a spell to free himself. The consequences of destroying this valley and all the gallant, noble beings within it made Krek shiver with horror. Rescuing Lan and rejoining Inyx outweighed any consideration of further enjoyment of this fine, restful resort area.

" Webmaster Murrk," he said again, " there are problems in the web."

This formal declaration brought the other mountain spider about to peer eye to eye with Krek.

" The web is my only concern," he responded ritualistically.

" The being you hold for your hatchlings is not as he seems."

" It seems fit fodder. It will not poison my hatchlings?"

" Doubtful," Krek said honestly. " There are other possibilities, however, all of which must be examined. He summons powers he can barely control. If he does so, consciously or unconsciously, all within the web are doomed."

" He is one of those living there?" Murrk twitched his second right leg in the direction of Wurnna. " They prey on us. We eat them when they become careless. But never have they displayed the kind of power you prattle on about."

" Their powers are different. Lan Martak travels the Road and accumulates odd bits and pieces of lore in a distressingly helterskelter fashion." Krek saw this did not impress the Webmaster. He changed his tack. " Those of Wurnna do not command as great a power."

" They do not dangle wrapped in my cocoon, either. Some power. Get on with this." The terseness told Krek his welcome had been overstayed.

" My feeling is that this human is best released. I will guarantee he will never again return to this valley."

" After my hatchlings dine, I will make the same guarantee."

Krek bobbed his head and swung back into the web, tracing through the traverse lines that were not coated with web- glue for trapping prey. He climbed toward the sun, feeling its warmth soaking into his body, giving strength, firming his resolve. Life had become confusing with Lan Martak. Values held for a lifetime sloughed away like a snake' s used skin. To question another Webmaster' s decision was unthinkable- yet Krek thought it.

Murrk did not have the full facts. He ignored Claybore' s obvious menace. Krek realized with a sudden flash of insight how insular most spider colonies were. Their world consisted of the web and the terrain around it. And as long as the arachnids remained on high, this was enough.

It was he who had changed, not the others of his kind.

" Oh, friend Lan Martak, what have you done to me? I question now when before I acted according to instinct." The spider heaved a sigh that sent vibrations throughout the web. Others glanced up and saw him, then went about their own business. Krek bemoaned the insanity that had seized him. The insatiable urge to see new worlds. The shirking of his duty at mating time. The desire to aid the humans in their fight against Claybore and his grey- clad legions. All insanity. And now, all his.

Krek spun about and, head- first, plunged toward the earth. At the last possible instant, he slowed his progress with a few well- chosen gobbets of webstuff. When his talons touched dirt, he felt no shock of the fall at all. He looked neither left nor right. He had decided on the proper course of action.

Above dangled Lan Martak.

" Krek, are they going to release me?" came the plaintive question.

" Webmaster Murrk is intent upon feeding you to his hatchlings. He avoids his husbandly duties in this fashion, an interesting concept: Provide enough for the hatchlings and perhaps full conjugal responsibility can be deferred."

" I don' t care if his mate eats him or not!" bellowed Lan. " I don' t want to be served up as dinner to a wiggling horde of spiders!"

" Do calm yourself, friend Lan Martak. In the course of my conversation with Murrk, he mentioned that Wurnna is a short distance away." Krek lifted a leg indicating the appropriate direction. " Once freed, you can find safety in that city. Those living in this valley are not aggressively inclined towards any but stragglers from Wurnna, Bron and the occasional grey soldier."

" Once I' m free?" asked Lan. " But you said Murrk wasn' t-"

" Please," said Krek, beginning the climb up a canyon wall. " This is difficult for me. I feel as if I betray all my own kind, but it seems necessary, given the problems you have brought down upon your own head." Drops of amber appeared on Krek' s mandibles. The solvent touched strands of Lan' s web. The helpless man shrieked as he plunged headfirst for the hard ground.

Krek neatly snared him with a hunting web inches before he smashed to his death.

" Now for the difficult part. Each spider produces a formula of his own for cocooning. Only familial lines are entitled to know the precise composition of the silk. This prevents the less scrupulous of those in our web from filching food stored away. However, I believe finesse is not required."

Lan shuddered at the nearness of Krek' s mandibles as they slashed and hacked at the tough cocoon. It took almost ten minutes for the last imprisoning strand to be stripped away. Standing shakily, Lan grasped one of Krek' s firmer front legs.

" Thanks, old spider. Lead the way out of here. We can be in Wurnna by nightfall if we hurry- and if Murrk was right about the distance."

" He was right. He is, after all is said and done, a Webmaster. We Webmasters do not make elementary errors like that. However, since this escape is against his wishes, I feel it best for you to press on without me. I shall remain behind to placate Murrk."

" But Krek, he' ll kill you!"

" Why?"

" But you helped me escape. He has to know."

" I didn' t eat you for myself. That is a potent argument I shall use to sway him into a truce. If it is impossible to form an alliance, then nonintervention is the next best course of action."

" Krek, you' ll be killed if you stay behind."

" If you do not begin your own escape immediately, you will once again be cocooned for a spiderling' s late supper. I shall forge the link with Murrk, then join you in Wurnna. As you know, I can traverse the distance much more quickly than you." Krek' s expression didn' t change, but the tone came out as a sneer. " After all, I have an adequate number of legs to carry me."

" Don' t be long," said Lan. He squeezed down on Krek' s leg one last time and began down the path as fast as he could. Krek watched until his friend had vanished from sight, then turned and bounded into the web to once more seek an audience with Webmaster Murrk.

Krek wondered if Murrk would eat him or not. If the situation were reversed, Krek knew what he' d do.