Ch: 170 The Doctor Is In

The Ascots rode back in fine formation, a local smith had smoothed out the rough spots and tapped his breastplate back into wearable shape. It still had a small hole, high on the right shoulder. Issac settled the comforting weight and patted his horse. The wagon’s load stayed in Flintspire, so they had a leisurely and quick ride back to town ahead of them.

“You guys are in for a treat, we’re camping with Solange tonight! She’s so cool and sexy, in a hot older woman kinda way…” Dannyl chatted and strummed, entertaining the small band as they rode, with the most unlikely stories.

“Secret underwear cult?” Penz asked suspiciously. “That sounds too fantastical, even for you guys.” The rest murmured assent and disbelief… Except Colette, who only blushed and looked away from Isaac’s laughing, smiling face. That was what allowed her to spot the faint movement in the tall grass near the road.

“Halt!” She barked, dropping her lance to address a small thornbush and clump of grass. “Reveal yourself, we are a registered Adventure band.” She called into the bush.

There was no response from the foliage, so she slipped gracefully from her mount, lance unerringly directed at the thorny bower. Issac and Mustafa followed suit, advancing ahead of their light armored leader, weapons readied.

As they approached Mustafa called out. “It’s a person, injured!”

The three young warriors took positions facing about into the bush, watching for threats, as Adam dashed forward, wand in hand. The remaining Adventurers stayed with the horses and wagon, while Dannyl limbered up his whip and moved away, to get a little space.

Mustafa wound up half carrying the slight, sandy haired man out of his thorny shrub, hauling him bodily over to the roadside, as his teammates kept an eye out for threats. Adam worked his arts constantly as the young warrior hauled his burden to the wagon.

Adam’s wand tapped here and there on the man’s ragged and very thin body. His shredded garments revealed a complex tracery of deep red markings over his body, looking for all the world like spiderwebs tattooed in blood.

His face was the worst, wreathed in cobwebs, with six strange eye tattoos on his brow, above his natural eyes.

A small slash in the skin of his cheek seemed to be the source of the red tendrils that nearly covered his entire body.

Otherwise, he was pocked with spider bites of every variety, including a few that were new to even the veteran healer. He was unconscious, or very nearly so, only struggling faintly, as he was dragged out of the bush, into the light.

“Gods… whatever did this to him is nothing we can face…” Adam murmured softly, as he struggled to stabilize the man’s wildly fluctuating vitals. “Troop, move out at speed, we will get this poor soul to the temple and report… whatever this is.”

They pushed hard, rolling past a pleasant meadow with a regretful wave to the tiny woman standing beside her tree. “Sorry, we gotta keep going Sol!” Dannyl shouted. “I’ll see you soon!”

“Are you sure you don’t want to take him to our house…?” Dannyl asked again as they approached town, after nightfall.

“Regulations stipulate that we take him to the temple of Dana, not a roadside inn.” Adam said firmly, pushing his weary horses on gently, despite his haste.

“Tawny may disregard the rules…” He trailed off just as wearily as his horses.

When they finally reached the court of Healer, eighth bell had long passed, so few witnessed the man being unloaded from the wagon. The weary troop led their mounts away to the stables of War, for a cool down and some rest.

There was only one groom in the livery of War on duty in the night, so the exhausted Adventurers walked their mounts slowly around the paddock outside War’s gate and brushed them thoroughly until they too, were spent.

They staggered together, back to the Adventure compound a few blocks away. The Red Ascots sank into the vast public pool beside the roundhouse with thankful gasps of pleasure.

“I’m not moving til morning.” Issac announced with finality.

“Can we do that… just float here all night?” Colette asked softly, holding Issac’s hand gently as they drifted together.

“Who’s going to tell us no?” Dannyl asked, floating nearby. “We’re dangerous Adventurers, strange and violent…”

“Good point.” Penz muttered. “I’m an Adventurer… not just an innkeeper’s son. You’re all Adventurers… not orphan children… We are making things happen.” He murmured happily.

“Think there’s anything in the kitchen?” Mustafa asked, eyeing the roundhouse.

#

Leroy and Chad were lounging by the fire, smoking those silly long pipes and enjoying a quiet evening, when a small troop of greenies came bustling in, draped in green robes and looking hungry.

“Hey, we’re here to use the kitchen…” Dannyl announced as the raiding party took over the front room. “Oh Hey!” He called when Ivy and Tallum appeared from the master bedroom.

Silence fell over the room as the gathered Adventurers stared at the mismatched couple. Tallum wore a silky, shiny robe that barely contained his massive frame… and barely concealed other enormous things. Ivy was draped in a robe of sheer and delicate white lace, so frothy that it revealed the white lace matching naughties she wore underneath.

That colossal, sculpted giant, bulging in every dimension, wearing such flimsy garments was odd enough. That he was standing beside his comparatively tiny and frail companion, caused giggles to spread around the room.

Ivy wasn’t slim, or delicate, she was built of sturdy stuff, with the smooth, muscular lines of an athlete. Her cute button nose, chubby cheeks and brilliant blue eyes led many to believe she was a plump and pleasant kitchen lady, under her loose workaday clothes.

Her current attire dismissed those notions completely. From her smooth, muscular calves to those rippling abs and graceful, sculpted shoulders, she was all woman and all business.

Only those plump, smiling cheeks and sparkling eyes filled with challenge, mirth and confidence made her beautiful, rather than statuesque. She took a slow spin for the onlookers, then prodded her beau to do the same.

“It’s not a crime to be sexy…” She announced, while shoving Tallum into a seat and curling up in his lap. “What’s on the menu brother?”

“Whatever we can find… we just got in, we found an injured man on the road, had to push hard to get here.” He mumbled, with his head in the pantry cupboard.

With a melodramatic sigh, the neglige clad girl bustled into the kitchen and began working. “I swear… If you weren't my favorite little brother…” She growled good naturedly. “We had some adventures while you were gone, somebody tried to snatch Amy…”

#

There was no sign of Oddsman Lester Nesmith anywhere in Wheatford, the man must have fled, that gave Tony a mild case of indigestion. Partially because the open case would be an eternal annoyance to his orderly mind; partially because he knew Shai and her boy were going to be awful about it.

He stopped by the temple on his way home to pick up something to settle his guts… and maybe a touch of duskmoon pollen to ease his sleep.

No sooner had he entered the sacred nave and performed his ritual ablutions in the washbasin, than the Patel brothers descended on him. “Sir Thelonius, excellent, we have a matter that may touch on your domain… a man seems to have been cursed…” One of them began.

“Some form of spider creature perhaps… and nothing simple or wholesome, the fellow is being ravaged.” The other continued.

#

The savage grins that spread across the faces of both Gary and Shai did little for Tony’s indigestion, which was rapidly becoming active nausea. “Yes, he is in the temple of Dana, suffering some awful, wasting curse. He has not awakened since he was found.”

#

Tony stood in the foyer of the house, uncomfortably shifting from one foot to the other while addressing the troublesome pair.

“Tell me more about this ‘wasting curse’, it sounds delightful.” Gary said dreamily. “Is it painful? Debilitating? Humiliating?”

“Gary!” Tony said sharply.

“He messed with my kids Tony… I’d skin him and make a new drum for Rio… Oww!” He rubbed his toe, where Shai had mushed it.

“I told ye, it dinnae rise tae killing, boy. Proportionality.” She scolded fiercely. “I’ll cut thee enough skin fer a tambourine head frae his back.”

“Enough you two, a man’s life is at stake, there may also be some unknown creature in the wilds between here and Flintspire, perhaps a spider demon of some kind.” Tony said firmly, killing the vibe.

“To be clear, a man’s life is at stake… the man who attacked my kids. I’m less motivated than usual… and really sleepy.” He mumbled through an exaggerated yawn. “Maybe I’ll look at your shithead in the morning, after breakfast. Tell me about this creature though.”

“The fellow is covered with spider bites and strange markings, while his body seems to waste from within…” Tony blanched a little as he spoke. “Order seems upset by the whole ordeal, but will not clarify anything… I find that even more distressing.”

“All right, but no guarantees… I owe this dude nothing but a clenched fist.” He grumbled. “Be back soon lover… Tony wants me to be the bigger man… again.” He kissed Shai and followed the massive knight out into the darkness.

#

“...Because literacy is so uncommon among regular people, the written word has gained mystical potency over the generations… so we see a lot of sutras and mystical inscriptions, that’s kinda my sweet spot too.” Gary mumbled, as he poured over the stricken man.

“In cases like these, the language is often the most troublesome.”

“Do you know this language Gary? Can you help?” Tawny asked hopefully.

“To be honest… it’s greek to me, isn't that ionic?” He giggled tiredly at his own puns. “Yeah, it’s greek and egyptian… early hieratic script… nice. Very elegant and refined, she’s a bit of a poet at heart.” Gary yawned even wider, this one came from the heart; he was winding down fast.

“Can you help? Amicus is out of town and the other local mages are…” He sighed eloquently.

“It’s a divine curse, wrought by the god Ipet and co-signed by Knowledge and a few others… might as well ask me to break the wind…” He giggled madly and swayed on his feet a little at that. “He has to choose, or rather, he had to choose. Past tense. He could have chosen to confess… He went the other way.”

“Will he die?” Tony asked, looking dissatisfied.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“Absolutely. But not from this… He will change though. He was given a choice, confess, or serve… he chose to serve.” The exhausted madman whispered, sinking into the vacant bed in the small room.

“What does that mean? Who is this ‘Ipet’ you speak of?” Tony demanded, while Tawny poked and prodded at him.

“She also goes by Maat, or Minerva, the guardian of children, lady of justice. She’s been away for a while, now she’s back and very upset with poor Lester… Minerva, that’s the aspect she’s wearing…” He mumbled happily.

Tawny huffed angrily and drew her wand, finally grateful for the ‘hideout wand holster’ Gary insisted she wear. With a few flicks and mumbled prayer to saint Drogo, Gary jolted back to full alertness, with manic intensity.

“Ohh! That’s a boost in the caboose!” He jabbered. “Ok, Ipet, hippo goddess of childbirth and guardian of children had a long, long career, with a few name and costume changes… one of her better known stories is of Minerva and Arachne…” His eyes unfocused a little and his body became more controlled and restrained in its movements, as he began to speak.

In the dark times of man’s ignorance, the gods and goddesses could touch their dreams with greater ease; before their descendants learned to shatter the sky with arts best left to the gods alone. In those days… and for so many after, disease and plague roamed freely. Illness spread on filthy wings from the swamps and mires, preying on men in the night.

The goddess Minerva was confronted in her very temple by a mortal woman, who demanded to know why the gods did so little to protect the children of man. The divine weaver spoke soothingly of the grand design of the gods… which fell on deaf ears. Arachne, riven and driven by her own personal tragedies, threw off good sense and challenged the goddess.

Two tapestries, one woven by deific hands to illuminate the wisdom of the gods’ path of non interference; another crafted by mortal skill, a plea for aid and justice.

Minerva’s soaring themes of divine glory brought gasps of pleasure from the gathered gods, while Arachne’s dark and brooding contemplations of the mortal lot pleased them little. In despair she fled, hanging herself from her own garments in the temple court.

Minerva looked and was moved by her craft, she sought the woman to grant her a blessing, finding her in the temple yard, lifeless.

A goddess is rarely stymied in her will by such minor difficulties. One weaver of silk became many, spreading forth across the land, to ensnare and devour the plague-bearing mosquitos whose disease had ravaged Arachne’s kin. So did spiders become a benevolent terror, wherever men wander.

Gary’s wide eyed droning chant was unnerving, carrying a sense of a story older than any memory but the gods’. When he finished he began to snore softly, still standing up. With ponderous grace, he folded neatly into a comfortable puddle, curled up on the floor and sleeping blissfully.

“I guess he really was tired…” Tawny muttered. “Come on, let’s drag him into a bed. And by let’s I mean you. Really, so large and unmanageable, the lot of you…” She kept complaining, while Tony stuffed the boy into an empty room and secured the door carefully.

Tawny looked askance at Tony when he locked the cell door, the big man shrugged helplessly. “He’s unpredictable.”

“Not in this. If Gary wakes in a locked cell he will react very poorly, as will I. Secure your prisoner, not the victim… Though I doubt he would really do anything drastic.” Tawny sighed in disappointment. “I believe the boy is not truly violent or murderous.”

“Very well, I leave it to you.” Tony handed her the key he had removed from Gary’s door, bowed and departed.

“Men… always so moody when things get complicated.” She unlocked the door and left the key dangling in its slot, as she went to her chamber in the temple.

#

Gary woke in a strange room, it had only a small, barred window, a washbasin and a chamberpot. He slipped from the hard, scratchy bed and tried the sturdy oaken door… locked from the outside. “Fucking cowards…” He snarled softly, as a set of small metal tools appeared from his Pockets!.

In a few quick and quiet moves, the lock surrendered with a soft creak. Gary still squatting down to jimmy the lock, pulled it open a hair. He slipped the door open a crack and peeked out, directly into the crotch of a red War cultist’s robe.

“That was impressive, young man… Oof!” His smirking face turned red, when Gary dapped the man’s ballbag with a clenched fist.

The War cultist collapsed around the intruding fist with a sad moan and gasp. With a few brisk moves, the man was bound with his own sash and his hood ripped away to fashion a gag. Gary was just rolling the hog tied cultist into his room, as Rolf came into the corridor with his goons in tow.

“Gary, unhand that man now!” Rolf bellowed.

Gary looked up from his crime and snarled in a way that gave Rolf’s band pause. Instead of fleeing, or trying to talk, he began to sway.

“Ring ding, dong… Ringading ding, dong…” He crooned, as his baton started a musical high pitched wail that slid up and down the tonal scale in a steady rhythm. His armor began appearing all around him as he continued swaying and dancing to a song only he heard… as yet.

Three slender figures gathered slowly in the corners and doorways. Clad in clinging robes of shadow, they undulated their hips sensually, while taking up his call in sweet, feminine voices.

Ring ding dong, ringading-ding dong…

Sexy backup singers just made sense. “Dre would have wanted it this way…” He growled. “The doctor is in fuckers!”

Keep they heads ringin!

Gary grunted his line, snapping it out from down low, a very threatening sound, as he danced forward snarling and feral, he chanted along. His weird singing baton’s bronze head was surrounded by a corona of whining, whirring circular ringblades.

I got rhymes to keep you enchanted!

Produce a smokescreen with the funky green,

To keep your eyes slanted!

So check the flavor that I'm bringin’,

The motherfuckin' D-R-E,

I keep their motherfuckin' heads ringin’!

Keep their heads ringin’!

“Gary… calm down…” Rolf shouted over the hideous, toe tapping madness pouring down the hall.

“This is all a mistake… really… Not in the temple, please!”

The boy was lost in his chant, but seemed more interested in getting out of the temple than actual bloodshed. Rolf and his band slowly backed away, while the young knight kept trying to negotiate…

#

Gary never came home and only appeared fitfully and briefly in his house of dreams, which gave Shai a restless night. Even worse, the ruined cathedral that had been lingering in his badlands had begun to change, slowly. So slowly it was difficult to notice at first.

At dawn she was up, dressed and headed for the temple quarter in a cranky mood. When she arrived at Healer’s door, a squire of Order stood guard outside.

“Apologies citizen, this area is currently restricted. If you have a medical emergency a healer will be dispatched soon.”

“Nae, I’ve come collecting what be mine.” She grumbled, as she darted past, into the temple. She dashed into the nave and performed the most impiously brief ablution ever and felt awful about it, until she heard that familiar warbling song. Gary was wielding his damn baton somewhere close by.

She dashed on bare, wet feet, directly from the holy basin, towards the sounds of battle and a staccato chant that made little sense.

Debonair with flair, I scare wear and tear

Without a care, runnin' shit as if I was a may’r.

But I ain't no politician, no competition.

Sendin' all opposition to see a mortician!

“Please… this is a sacred place, you are not under any threat of arrest or confinement, Gary…” Rolf continued.

If it’s all a misunderstanding,

Why was there a guard on my door?

Her boy demanded, abusing the rhyme scheme and bending his bars, from somewhere down the hospital wing of the temple.

“To be fair, you did try to break out...” Rolf answered smoothly, as he backed down the corridor with his troop behind him.

Try, hell. I did break out!

Now I’m making my escape!

“As I keep telling you, misunderstanding… Please don’t defile the temple with violence… we are already going to catch… Shai!” Rolf visibly relaxed when he looked back and saw the towering smith woman approaching quickly.

“Thank the gods and spiri…” He quickly changed his tune and re-oriented on the looming threat. “Please put down that rolling pin, journeyman Shai…”

“Tis nae a weapon Rolf, an ye bleed internally I’ve nae shed yer blood… Under the law.” She answered grimly. “Temple rules!”

“That’s not even how the law works Shai, never mind… anyway, this is all just a misunderstanding… as I’ve mentioned several times now.” Rolf had been mildly amused, as long as it was just Gary… Shai brought an element of actual danger to the proceedings.

The metallic sound of armored feet crashing across the marble floors of Dana’s temple made Rolf’s head pound. A pair of Order squires had abandoned their door duty and were in lukewarm pursuit of Shai’s jingling backside, shouting for her to ‘Halt in Order’s name!’ The idiots wore their hobnailed field boots inside, and were crashing and skating around hopelessly on the smooth, waxed stone floors.

Tawny was going to… gods, what couldn’t an angry healer do?

“Archie, Nate… stop, turn around and exit this temple.” He barked at the two squires scrambling their way.

“Can we please all go outside in the sunshine, before anyone offends the goddess further?”

Gary grumbled and stomped past the red robed warband and Rolf, in his gray Order robe. He took Shai by the hand and kissed her cheek on the way by, still grumbling. “Thanks, you got here just in time babe, I can’t spit Dre’s bars… I’m not really a doctor.”

Rolf joined them outside a few minutes later, in the little park beneath the monument to Gary’s buttcheeks, looking very tired.

“That Lester fellow vanished somehow. He escaped through a locked door and vanished without a trace.” Rolf said calmly.

“Well, almost without a trace, there were spider webs everywhere in the room, no other sign of a spider though, and all the webs were normal sized. Weird, huh?” Rolf shrugged.

“When the alarm went up, someone went through securing all the doors in the hospital wing, it’s standard procedure…”

Gary shot him a suspicious look. “So why was your guy stationed outside?”

“Will was coming to unlock the door, not guarding it… he saw what you were up to and was amused. He wondered how long it would take you to pick the lock…He’s pretty unhappy with you.” Rolf shot Gary a suspicious look.

“You are a slippery one, Gary. It’s very difficult to trust a man who makes his own lockpicks…”

“I did say the same thing…” Shai mused happily, snuggled up in his shoulder. “An that fool Lester wishes tae try me, I’ll gut him. Otherwise we are best shed of that man, whatever his fate.” She murmured, deep in Gary’s collar.

“Yeah, wise words, Shai. I’ll let him drift away on the breeze…” Gary said softly, as a long line of golden orb weavers caught the wind from Dana’s temple roof. Drifting away in the late spring sky, they glimmered beneath ‘chutes of iridescent silver and gold silk. “He made a choice and will pay the price.”

#

“... so let’s say the spinner and weaver of fate knows how many days a person has left… maybe not the details, free will and all that, but a good idea of his longevity. Now let’s say that goddess gets really miffed, along with a few of her friends…” Gary grinned and slumped in the bath.

“The body is just your soul, pushing out into the physical realm, using mortal templates to modify reality and create itself… or something like that. Immortals see things in weird ways.”

“What does that mean?” Becky asked, floating hand in hand with Shai.

“The curse he received gave him a choice, to confess and surrender, or serve her for the rest of his life. He chose service.” Gary took Shai’s hand and kicked off to float with his girls.

“He turned into around a thousand huge golden spiders. They're roaming the woodlands killing every mosquito they encounter and will continue to do so until they die, in about a year.” He sighed.

“She went old school on him, she fractured him into the weeks of his remaining life and transformed the remnants. There’s been a lot of spiders in my life lately… I wonder what that means?” He mused before falling deeply asleep

#

Gary woke to Cameron, shaking him gently; someone had moved him into the grotto and he felt miserable. “Blaahh… The side effects of Tawny’s invigorating spell suck.” He groaned.

“Sorry.” Cameron said with a smile. “Journeyman Shai threatened that you would be ‘on the blood and loins menu’ if you didn’t wake and eat something. It really sounds like you should wake up and eat something.”

“Ok bro, how are you feeling? All cleared up?” He groaned and staggered to the door, barely able to stand under the weight of his robe.

“I was promised that you would feel miserable… you are a bit of a wimp, aren’t you.” The older man said with a grin, while helping him steady himself.

“This is what happens when I reveal my secrets… no respect…” Gary conjured his stick and leaned on it heavily. “Back in my day we held our witches in some esteem.” He gabbled in a creepy old man voice. “Time was, you un-hex a man’s backside, he’d have a bit of reverence…”

“You said all it took was to read the… inscription.” Cameron complained sourly as he helped the fool wizard along.

“Yeah… who else can read ancient, otherworldly squid wizard? Raise your hand, I’ll wait.” Gary mumbled, easing down into a seat, with help.

Shai slid up in a soft, jingling dance, peered into his face, kissed him and nodded. “Aye, tis as they said, a night’s sleep an ye will be fine.”

He yawned deeply as a plate landed in front of him. Whatever it was, it had no chance. It wasn’t till he looked down at the wreckage, that he realized he had devoured a whole roast chicken and a loaf of bread.

Shai swatted his hand away, when he began idly crunching down the bones with glazed eyes and a hungry, feral look in his vacant eyes.

“Fie! Tis much like minding a puppy, betimes. I hae some miso soup, ye kin guzzle that, ye bottomless monster.”

#

Shai dragged him upstairs and stuffed him in bed with a fond kiss, followed by a wad of that familiar pollen. “I’ll see thee in the morning.”

In the other house, things were busy as can be. Thirp was constructing a new stone bridge, between Shaitopia and Beckyisland. The kids’ island was now securely tethered to those two, rather than on mainland Gary.

“That’s going to hurt his feelings when he comes back…” Becky said softly.

“It can’t be helped. He’s changing and that is making him unstable.” Marduk said firmly. “Better he get hurt feelings, than expose the children directly to… whatever that is.”

He jerked a divine thumb over the sacred shoulder, indicating the dark temple that was rising in his blasted wastelands.

“Be this Morrigan’s working? It do seem like her.” Shai murmured, eying the disturbing edifice.

“None of mine, girl… that is festering inside him all by itself, I’m impressed.”

It was not so much rising, or growing, but undecaying. It slowly climbed back up from a pile of dusty broken stones, one block at a time. The place was rising from a state of ruin so profound that no sign could be seen of its origin.

Yellowed stone the color of old bones and cracked, black basalt obelisks rose over the garden wall, casting a shadow over part of the garden.

Shai’s luminous moon failed to touch the cracked and shattered, cyclopean pile. It lingered in darkness and misty obscurity, just beyond the garden wall.

It had a pool of its own, a tar pit of thick, sticky filth, running slowly into an overflow channel. It wound between the garden wall and the strange structure, dividing it from the mainland. Only a set of wobbly and unreliable stepping stones crossed over the runnel of ichor. It ran off the edge dribbling away in long, mucosal strings into the void.

Thirp, Marduk, Shai and Morrigan stood just beyond the shadow cast by the edifice, contemplating it, while Becky kept the kids busy.

“Have you crossed over?” Gary asked from behind them. “You won’t really understand until you do…” The small group turned around and found… NotGary.

Dressed in dark clothing of indeterminate color, fabric and cut, he stood there more confident, leaner and thinner than Gary. His smile held none of the joy, half mad glee or hidden sadness that Gary’s did… It was cool, dispassionate and calm, almost tranquil.

“Who art thou? Some spirit that hae taken his guise?” Shai asked, even as her heart sank with a growing certainty.

“No, I’m Gary, the real one.” He spoke with absolute surety, in a place where lies cannot be told.

#