Tangled Webs - Prologue

Tangled Webs

Prologue

The full moon started its rise slowly over the edge of the tree tops. It was a big, yellow moon - the Harvest Moon. The air was balmy with a light breeze that kissed along skin and fur. The night was alive with those who had come to the Enclave. There were no woodland creatures to disturb them. They dare not venture too close to the Enclave, lest they become a meal. The only sound to be heard outside was the muffled scratching of claws on rocks as preparations were made.

Benyara stretched out her arms and tilted her head back to the open sky. She sent her powers out into the night for answers. She was the bnuet of the Moon Stringer Tribe and it was her duty to provide answers.

"How does the night look for our celebration?" a male asked over her shoulder. Rickard Walker could always move more silently than the rest of them. It was something he prayed his child would inherit. Standing eight and a half feet tall from claws to crown when relaxed, he was an impressive sight to behold. Rickard had dark brown hair and fur that contrasted beautifully with his green eyes. He was indeed a handsome dryder.

"The weather will hold until tomorrow," she said as she lowered her arms and looked back at him. "Until the sun is half past its height. The humans are far from us now, in their village by the coast. There is no threat tonight. Tonight is a night for celebrating the life that is to come."

"When should we proceed?" Rickard asked. Just then, a scream rent through the air. They both turned toward the entrance of the cave.

"Judging by the scream, I estimate we have until the moon reaches its peak," Benyara said. Rickard looked askance at her.

"Are you sure you cannot tell me about the child?" Rickard asked.

"I told you before, I cannot see," Benyara said. "The child's sex is blind to me, as is its future. You know that is a sign in itself that the child will have power."

"I just wish I knew more of what to expect," Rickard said as he looked back at the cave.

"You are not the only one," Benyara said under her breath. Another scream tore through the air.

"Come. Let us begin!" Rickard said as he started toward the cave.

The cave mouth was hidden from human sight by gray and silver boulders. Once past the boulders and into the mouth of the cave, it widened exponentially. Down the corridor of rock, the light from the moon faded into nothing. Around a corner, the light returned. This light, however, was not from the moon. It emanated from the silk threads that lined the walls. The entire colony had joined together to create this Enclave, a place where all the tribes could gather together for celebrations or other matters.

Down the silk lined tunnels and deeper into the mountain, Rickard and Benyara finally entered a chamber where the activity was most important. In the back of the room, there were silken sheets erected as a barrier so no passerby could see what was behind them. It was from there that the screams emanated. Helpers of the midwife went back and forth to get water, towels and other things. Rickard moved the curtains aside and stepped forward to take in the scene.

His wife was laid on a slab that rose out of the floor with her back to him. He could see that Evette was panting as she waited for another contraction to come. Her legs on each side were pulled together and secured so she could not flail and hurt someone. He knew it was not comfortable but it was a precaution they had agreed to. The midwife knelt on the floor near him as she folded a few towels for Evette.

"How goes it?" he asked the midwife.

"As well as expected," the midwife replied. "Go to her. She is asking for you."

Rickard moved to his wife's side. She was pale, more so than he expected. Her honey-gold hair was drenched and dark from sweat. Her cheeks looked even more hollow than normal in that light. The doctor had warned them that any birthing would be very difficult for Evette, but they had agreed to have a child together. Now, her golden eyes were shining as they met his. She smiled as she raised a hand for him to take.

"My darling," he breathed as he knelt close to her.

"My love," she replied. It had been their greeting since they fell in love so many years ago. Those simple words held profound amounts of emotions in them. Everyone in the room could see the love between them as if it were tangible.

"It will be soon. I can feel it," Evette said.

"Benyara believes it will be when the moon is at its height. That is not too long now. Only a little while more and we shall see our child."

"Our precious little one," she said as she smiled again. Just then, another contraction went through her. She clenched her teeth as she tried to not scream again. Rickard squeezed her hand in reassurance. She lost the battle as the scream tore out of her mouth. When it passed, Rickard stroked her hair and whispered soothing words to her. The midwife gave him a towel for her forehead.

"Is Rickard in here? I would like to speak with him."

Rickard knew that voice. It was Mikael, one of the Enclave Elders. Promising his wife that he would be back soon, Rickard stepped past the curtains to see Mikael in the entrance. He smiled at his father's friend, who had been like an uncle to Rickard.

"Mikael! Why are you not in the Great Chamber, partying like everyone else?" Rickard teased as he grasped Mikael's forearm in greeting. He knew that, though Mikael enjoyed the people and the atmosphere of these gatherings, he himself did not like to participate in the exuberance of the party. Standing as tall as Rickard, with brown hair and fur that was turning gray, Mikael was young enough to enjoy the celebrations but old enough to not put his body through it any longer.

"That is why I am here, Rickard," Mikael answered, his steel gray eyes shining. "I have been sent to find you and bring you to the Chamber."

"Whatever for?" Rickard asked with a smile still on his lips. "The time approaches and I wish to be with my wife."

"Of course, of course. We would not want you to miss that. However, there is a certain young one who is anxious for you to try her new brew. I told her I would find you simply to get her to stop nagging me." Both of them laughed at that.

"Janeek is still young enough that the nagging will do you in," Rickard said. "Let us hope she has learned her lesson for trying to brew something in goat bellies." That made the men laugh even harder as the memory was still fresh in their minds.

"Just one cup, Rickard, to placate the poor girl and to stop her from issuing death threats to me for not bringing you at once," Mikael urged.

"Very well, since your life is in the balance. Let me speak with Evette," Rickard said as he turned back towards the curtains.

"Give her my best," Mikael said as he left the room.

Rickard moved to his wife and took her hand again. Her eyes were closed as she tried to control her breathing. Her skin was still pale and her legs seemed to be shaking.

"My love, I heard Mikael," she said as she opened her eyes to look at him. "Go. Have a drink. You do not need to be by my side for all of this. It must be boring."

"On the contrary, my darling," he replied. "The birth of our child is the most important thing for us. It has my undivided attention."

"You always gave me pretty words," Evette smiled as she closed her eyes again. "Go and have that drink. There will not be time until much later."

"My darling, I do not want to leave you for brew," Rickard laughed as he lightly pinched the tip of her nose. Evette smiled and weakly shoved at his chest.

"Go, you brute," she managed a smile and weak laugh. "Go before I have the mid-wife kick you out on your spinner." Rickard laughed and kissed her before leaving the room.

He found Mikael as soon as he entered the chamber. He feared that he would not have been able to because of the amount of bodies in the room. Every dryder in the region had come to the Enclave for the celebration. There were musicians in a cove about halfway up the side of the chamber so that music could filter down. Off to one side, there was an outcropping with a raised slab under it that they used as a drink distribution area. He saw Janeek there as she handed out cups of her brew. Mikael waved him towards the bar with a smile as he danced in circles with one of his granddaughters.

Janeek was busy behind the bar, her brilliant green eyes flashing bright with laughter and excitement. She was confident as she moved to pick up cups and pour her brew. She was an odd mix of dryder. She had steel gray fur that was mixed with bright green in a brindle pattern. No one was quite sure where the green came from but it was not so unusual for there to be bright colors among the inventors of their species.

Janeek was the only one who was creating her own brew. She is still learning and therefore, they were all subject to her trial-and-errors. The last one she had tried was the worst yet. She had taken her ingredients, whatever they were, and put them in a goat's belly to cure and ferment until she believed it to be ready. It had caused a number of dryders to become ill.

He walked over to her to receive a cup. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, so it could not be that bad. Janeek smiled as he approached.

"I heard a rumor that you have a new brew," he said when he got to her. "I sincerely hope it is better than the last one." Janeek stuck her tongue out at him as he laughed.

"Try it for yourself and let me know," she said as she set a cup in front of him.

"If I die before my child is born because I drank this, I will haunt you for eternity," Rickard promised. Janeek laughed and went to pour a drink for another patron.

Rickard looked down into his cup before sniffing it. It did not smell as bad as the last time. He tentatively took a drink. The brew coated his mouth in a warm flavor, almost like honey. It held a small fire as it went down his throat. He took another drink, larger this time. He could almost feel the brew settle in his stomach, the spices causing a relaxing sensation to travel through him. So far, it did not seem to be unsettling but quite the opposite. It was very pleasing.

Rickard waited for Janeek to look his way and then saluted her with his cup. She dipped low in a mock curtsey with a grin. Just as he was about to take another drink, he saw Simral come through the doorway. He looked pissed as he made his way to the bar.

"Give me a cup," he growled at Janeek. "I do not even care what it is. Just give me something."

"My friend, what seems to be the problem?" Rickard asked.

"Humans," Simral spat. "Are not they always the problem?"

"What have they done now?"

"Some of their young ones started throwing rocks at Sherice and me as we made our way here. They were lucky that she was with me or I would have torn their heads from their bodies." Simral grabbed his cup from Janeek and downed in to one gulp.

"Where did this happen?" Rickard asked, concerned for the safety of everyone here but more so for that of his wife and unborn child. Simral saw the fear in his friend's eyes and instantly some of his anger left him.

"Do not fear," he told Rickard, suddenly contrite. "It was near our home in the valley. I am still upset about the whole matter and have not yet calmed myself. I am sorry to have worried you. I did not see any humans near here."

"The worry was not for myself, but for my wife and child. I had dreams before this night. Dreams that the humans found out about our gathering and sent men with fire into the middle of our halls," Rickard confessed. He motioned for Janeek to bring another cup.

Simral was stunned by the admission. Dryders do not normally fear much, but fire is a death to them all. If humans made their way into the Enclave with fire, then many dryders would die and nothing would be left of their homes except burnt rock.

"My friend, I am sorry to cause you undue alarm," Simral said. "It was not my intention."

"I know you did not mean any harm. Come!" Rickard said as he handed a full cup to Simral. "This is a celebration. Let us drink! To new life."

"To new life," Simral agreed. Together they drained their cups.

Many dryders came to talk with Rickard. Most inquired about the baby and the lack of sight where it was concerned. Rickard would dismiss the conversation with a smile, saying that they shall find out soon enough. Before long, a young dryder found him with a message from the midwife. She said the time was almost here. As Rickard excused himself to his friends, a scream echoed into the chamber. Benyara stepped onto a raised platform at the far end of the chamber and commanded everyone's attention.

"The time is upon us," she called to the now silent room. "Gather 'round and pray to Erezah for the safety of mother and child in this time."

Every dryder in the chamber moved to the base of the platform. There, they rested on the floor, legs tucked under their bodies, with their heads tilted back and arms raised. Benyara lifted her hands and chanted. A slab on top of the chamber moved, allowing soft moonlight to filter down into the chamber.

"When the moon is fully in the window, the babe shall be born," Benyara said, her eyes white with power. Rickard looked at the hole in the ceiling. The moon was coming into view. He hurried from the room to be with his wife.

"Rickard!" Evette screamed as he entered the room.

"I am here, my darling," he said as he went to her side and held her hand.

"It is almost time," she gasped.

"Rickard, I need you to get out of here," the midwife snapped.

"I will not leave them," he responded, never taking his eyes off of his wife.

"Then move to the top of the bed. Hold her hands above her head and try not to let her move."

Rickard did as he was instructed. All around him, there was activity as the midwife and her helpers did what they were meant to do. Rickard paid them no heed. He would only be in their way if he asked questions or offered to help. Instead, he focused all of his attention on his wife. He brushed the hair from her face, whispered soothing words in her ears, and used a cloth to dry her sweating face. When she screamed, he held her hands. Suddenly the midwife was by his side.

"Hold onto her," she said in a low voice. "Her slit has finally appeared. This will be the painful part."

Rickard was shocked at the knowledge that it was not that painful already. It sure sounded like it to him. He bent close to Evette once again as the midwife moved to the bottom of Evette's abdomen where her spider half merge with skin. It was there that the birthing slit opened.

"It is time. It is time!" she cried as another scream ripped through her. The midwife called for her to push. Rickard squeezed her hands as she squeezed his, grinding together the bones. It seemed to go on forever. Rickard stared in awe as he watched the silk-lined sack that contained their child emerge from his wife with every push. Evette clutched his hands and screamed as she pushed a final time and the sack came fully out. The midwife snipped the threads and cords that connected mother to child and brought it to them with a smile.

"I feel the kicks of this one," she said as she laid it in Evette's arms.

Together, Evette and Rickard watched in hushed awe as the silk wiggled and bulged by spindly legs and flailing hands. Once the membrane bubble that lined the inside of the sack was broken, they assisted their child in disentangling legs and arms from the silk threads as it screamed in protest to the change in living conditions. The midwife hurried over with a towel and wash basin to clean the child up. Once finished, she handed the babe back to them with a smile.

"Congratulation," she said. "It is a girl."

"Oh, darling, look at her," Rickard said with huge eyes as he stared at his little girl. "She is so beautiful."

"My love, look at her color," Evette said with wonder in her voice. Their little one had white hair and dark fur but there was red in it as well. "Have you ever seen a dryder with red fur?"

"No, I cannot say that I have."

"I have heard of such," the midwife spoke from the foot of the table. She was undoing Evette's restraints, but was gazing at the babe in awe. "Once every few generations, there is a dryder born with red fur and silk. They are masters of whatever craft they choose. Some even become great leaders. I suggest you ask your bnuet as soon as you can. For now, what shall you name her?"

"I do not know," Rickard said, a small frown on his lips. "Now that she is here, every name I had thought of seems insignificant. Darling, what do you think? What do you wish to name her?"

"I had hoped that our child would have green silk, like you. However, with the red color, I think something more appropriate. Let us think...How about... Syndir?"

"Syndir Walker," Rickard said, trying out the sound of it. "I like it. Our little Syndir."