Weekly Drabble #66: Web of Lies (Patreon)

As the title might suggest, this week's suggestion comes from stratomunchkin. We return to Termin Kol and his newfound helper Ariaka, the Half-Made spiderling/spidertaur. In this short entry, we find Termin taking care of some of the more mundane and less sorcerous of a Witch-Hunter's tasks. Namely, tracking down some local yokel bandits. A Hunter's work is never done...

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Web of Lies:

“Well,” Witch-Hunter of the Solanae Empire Termin Kol said as he crouched next to one of the bandits he’d been chasing for two days. “It looks like your escape hasn’t quite gone the way you hoped, has it?”

“Help me!” the man said. “Please, cut me loose! You don’t… you don’t know what’s happening!”

“Oh,” Termin replied as he straightened, touching his left hand to the sharkskin grip of the knife hanging from his belt. He left his sword in its scabbard. He’d scarcely need that. “I think I can guess.”

The bandit wasn’t quite upside-down, but he was stuck at an comfortable angle, bound compeltely up in silken cords, with only his head free. He stuck fast within a great spider’s web strung between two of the tall ironroot trees that filled this part of the forest. Each of the web’s strands glistened with the last remnants of morning dew, the sun rising higher, thin beams of light spearing through the thick canopy overhead. Despite being able to hold a man tightly, each single gossamer filament wasn’t quite visible to the naked eye. Only when the light hit it right. Given that the bandit was caught in it now, he obviously hadn’t been looking well enough.

“Please!” the bandit begged. “I’ve been here for days. We all were! But Lukos and Merrin… it took them away. First-first it was the horses and then it’s been taking us! Every few hours it comes back! I’m the last one left! Merrin was taken this morning. You have to hurry and get me out of here! Please! I’ll confess, I’ll go to jail. Just get me out of here!”

The Witch Hunter nodded. He’d lost the trail of these fools yesterday, but this morning he’d come across one of their horses trotting along the roads, a few strands of webbing still stuck to its flank. He’d tracked its likely route through the forest and sure enough, he found a prize waiting for him at the end of his journey.

Dealing with bandits was another of the non-witchcraft related tasks he dealt with, but at least this time the local villagers hadn’t claimed it was spirits and witches waylaying travelers. While these idiots weren’t the smartest thieves Kol had ever come across, they’d been more clever than the local patrols. Granted, that wasn’t a high bar to clear.The local sheriff was a drunk who looked for answers to every case in the bottom of his cups. He’d been completely useless, so once again Kol had had to take matters into his own hands. Just once, he thought. Just once I’d like someone to be mildly competent at their work and not need me to do everything myself. Then again, what was a Witch Hunter for but doing those things that rest of the citizenry and soldiery of the realm could not?

Well, he’d started living up to that ideal. None of the locals had been able to do so, but Termin had determined where the bandits were likely making camp and he’d gone to greet them himself. True to expectations, he’d found a trio of half-drunk fools. They’d either been smarter than he gave them credit for, or were just easily spooked: as soon as he’d ridden into their camp, the three of them had fled. They knew these woods better than Kol did and managed to elude the  older Hunter. He expected he’d find them again, though as soon as he saw that horse, he knew what had happened.

She was going to be insufferably smug about this, he just knew it.

How Ariaka had known this was the place to spin a web Termin couldn’t have said, though he supposed it made sense. It was along a well-worn game trail that led to the sandy banks of a slow, shallow river. A good place for animals to come and drink, or for fugitives to cross to hide their tracks from an annoyed old man. While the spiderling could – and did – hunt, she also had a predilection for making silken traps. A favourite tactic of hers was to dangle sticky cords from branches then go into the underbrush to flush out prey. He’d seen half a dozen quail get themselves stuck as they flew out of shrubbery. For larger prey, she liked using her webs, positioning them so that they were hard to see as she had done here, or covering up her traps so that you didn’t realize you were about to get yourself stuck.

“What are you waiting for?” the bandit shouted! “Cut me loose! It’ll be back any moment!”

“I’m sure it will,” Termin replied, studying the webwork. The pattern was a little different than her usual work. She was trying something new. He followed the strands, finding one of the non-sticky structural cords and gave it a slight twang, watching as the vibrations travelled along the web. She might be smug, but she’d let one of the horses escape. This thief’s compatriots were doubtlessly tied up somewhere safe, while she amused herself with this little bit of theater. The Half-made wasn’t sadistic, but she had a wicked sense of humour – in both senses of the term and if she let this fool think himself in for a dire fate, that was fine with Kol.

“We have to get out of here!” the cocooned man protested. “You don’t know. It’s coming! We have to go!”

“Perhaps,” the older man said, plucking another strand of the web. “Why don’t we see what she has to say first?”

“But…” the thief said. “But it’s not-”

“Hmm,” a voice said from far up in the canopy, a large, grotesque shape moving through the branches. “What’s come to me now?” Termin’s eyes widened. The voice was deep, and unquestionably masculine.

The Witch-Hunter took a step back from the web as a spiderling descended. Long black hair hung around a pale face, framing the Half-Made’s red eyes and sharp teeth, a perfect match for the colour of its thorax. That, Termin knew as he drew his sword, was not Ariaka.