Eight-legged messengers

Diza woke to immense pain in her right leg and hair in her face. As she tried to move, pain lanced through her ribs making her gasp. Forcing herself to move through the pain, she finally managed to roll onto her back. Stars danced in her vision, but she forced herself to focus on her breathing. “Ta’Kaylah,” she whispered. Shifting her shoulders a bit, Diza exposed a fold in her shirt. “Rozhin, help”. A rose-colored tarantula peeked out. “You said someone else can speak to your kin. Find them. Get help. Ta’Kaylah needs you”. Rozhin skittered away, and Diza breathed a small sigh of relief.

Kelly was strolling through the halls on one of the first warm days of spring. His friend, a black widow named Eternity, was resting on his right shoulder. The afternoon was quiet, and Kelly decided that since his meetings were done, he was going to go for a ride.

As he strode through the Hall of Tapestries, a messenger spider descended from the ceiling. Kelly paused and held out a hand for the spider to land. “Hey, little buddy. What news have you for me?”

The messenger spoke in the soft whisper of its own language, “Damaged female speaks with us; needs help”. This news rocked Kelly. A woman who could speak to spiders? He had heard nothing of this! With a start, Kelly turned and ran to the stables, gathering information on the way.

In transit to the woman, Kelly found the spider she sent. A rose-hair tarantula, huh? This should prove to be interesting. Kelly reached down to pick it up, but the rose-hair shied away. Kelly chuckled to himself, and spoke the language of the spider. “Untrusting, are we? I’ll not harm you”.

Hearing a language that he could understand come from the person, the tarantula allowed himself to be picked up. “You help damaged friend?” When Kelly agreed, the tarantula seemed to relax. “Rozhin. Friend Diza”. Diza, he thought. Well, Kelly hoped he could reunite Rozhin with his friend. So much for a quiet afternoon.

Two hours of riding brought Kelly to a woman lying on the ground in a patch of marigolds, seemingly unconscious. Kelly jumped off of his horse and approached the woman he assumed was Diza. The first thing he noticed was her hair, what seemed to be armfuls of obsidian curls. Next, the blood. There was a crimson stain under her right leg. Kelly could tell that she had sacrificed most of her shirt to staunch the bleeding. He could also see the telltale bruise that could only mean broken ribs. She had taken quite a beating. Kelly approached with caution, fearing that she might be dead. When he was close enough to determine that she was still alive, he was met with a sword pointed at his face.

“I am not… for the taking,” said the woman, slightly breathless. Her voice might have wavered, but her sword was steady.

Kelly stopped and held his hands in a defensive position. The look in the woman’s eyes told him that she would ignore her pain to kill him if he moved wrong. Understanding his current delicate position, Kelly slowly moved his right hand to his left shoulder and brought out Rozhin. In the language of spider, he spoke, “I am friend. You sent for help, yes?” The woman’s eyes went to Rozhin and lowered her sword, nodding in relief.

“My right leg is broken in at least 2 places, maybe three. I was hit with an iron bolo while running, but they only caught one leg. I cannot be moved easily. My ribs…” The pain forced her to stop talking so she could concentrate on staying awake.

Kelly knew that the only way he could move her was with the help of shadow. Still keeping an eye on her sword, he drew closer and knelt down next to her. “I can get you fixed up, but not here. I know a way to move you painlessly, is that alright?” Diza nodded. “Very well. Do me a favor, please? Close your eyes. By the way, my name is Kelly.”

She nodded, and did as she was told. “Diza,” she responded, as she was closing her eyes. Kelly noticed that there were marigolds caught in her hair, and his heart skipped a beat.

Kelly placed one hand on Diza’s shoulder, and the other over his own mouth so he could talk into the shadows. “Ahllen, could you transport us to the infirmary, please?” He then watched as gray and purple lotus petals grew out of the ground to surround them. When the petals met at the top, they blossomed immediately and Kelly found himself in the Infirmary of Dragon Keep. Diza was already on one of the beds. Kelly breathed a ragged sigh of relief. “Qheen!” Kelly turned and saw the dwarven cleric running to action. “Broken leg and ribs, not sure what else.” Qheen nodded. Kelly backed up to let her work unhindered. He looked around the infirmary. “Shall I fetch Trui?” A nod of the head was his response, and he was off with a shot.

Trui happened to be in the dining room, finishing a snack. Kelly rushed in and called out her name. Trui turned with a smile for Kelly. Something in his body language must have given her pause, for she suddenly knew that she was needed in the Infirmary. She nodded once, and in one fluid motion she took the last bite of her sandwich and put her hair in a single bun on her way to the doors. Kelly watched this, astounded. What was it about natural born ThornBlossoms? How could they manage to put their hair up while performing a completely separate task? And even when someone watches them do it, they still can’t explain how it happened? Kelly’s confusion was all over his face, and Trui gave him a playful little slap as she passed by him on the way to the Infirmary. Kelly shook his head and followed.

Diza was the perfect patient. She was openly communicative with Qheen and Trui on where her pain was located and how serious it was. She also did everything she was told, when she was told to do it. When Trui complimented her on being so well behaved in the Infirmary, Diza gave a low chuckle that only hurt her ribs a little. “The Cleric I’m used to dealing with is half gnome. If you didn’t do as he told, you ran the risk of waking up the next day with ivy growing out of your orifices”. Trui, with her overactive imagination, had to excuse herself so she could laugh it out. Even Kelly cracked up on that one. A punch from Qheen seemed like a light sentence compared to Diza’s Cleric. Kelly made a mental note to find out where the Gnomish Cleric was located so that he could meet him once and then promptly avoid him for the rest of his life.

The bed that Diza was in faced the door of the Infirmary. As time passed, she started to get a bit agitated, regardless of how wonderful of a patient she had been. There were the occasional pop-in from residents to see the new person and find out how well she was faring. One such resident was Lucky, First Prince of Dragon Keep. As soon as he walked in, Diza perked up. Her eyes got wide and she pointed at him. “You. It’s you. Um, uh, uh. Prince. No, wait. Yes. Yes. LUCKY! Lucky! Yes. Ta’Kaylah needs you. She’s in danger! Taken!”.

Kelly turned to his adopted brother, with the question on his face, but Lucky shook his head. He didn’t know this woman. How did she know him? He was about to say something to let her know of this, when she exclaimed something that changed his life forever.

“Your blue fire tulip. My daughter. Your wife. Hobgoblins took her!”

Lucky froze. The straw hat he took from that girl 5 years ago was hanging in his office. Only a scant few people knew the details of that encounter when he met his soulmate. Eyes wide, he gave a good look at the woman in the bed. She shared features with the girl. She could indeed be that girl’s mother. Wait. She was kidnapped? Kidnapped! Not for long. Narrowing his eyes, Lucky nodded his head once and turned around. Striding with purpose, Lucky went directly to the Knight’s Quarters and fitted himself with weapons. Daggers for his boots. A short bow on his back with a full quiver of arrows. A sword for his hip. A blowgun with poison darts strapped to his left upper arm. And leather wrapped steel bracers for his forearms. All this was done without a word. When he was fully equipped, Lucky turned toward a shadow and walked right in; passing through and out at the stables.

A surprised Saarden greeted Lucky, but all Lucky would say was, “my horse”. Saarden ran to obey. Pleasantries would be for later. Right then, Saarden was looking at the Prince, not his best friend. As soon as Lucky’s horse was saddled and out of the stable, Lucky climbed up and was off with a shot.

Instinct guided him. He now knew the name of his bride. Ta’Kaylah. Lucky closed his eyes and pictured her face. The red-gold hair, the wide violet eyes. With his heart, he searched for her. Lucky felt a tingle on the top of his right hand where his divine birthmark was, and suddenly knew exactly where he needed to go. Laying low on his horse, he willed it to go faster.

Lucky’s instinct told him to stop before he heard the grunts and yells. Quietly, Lucky dismounted his horse and let the reins drop to the ground. Because of Saarden’s superior training, Lucky’s horse remained where it was. If the reins fell to the ground, the horse would not move. Lucky drew his sword, then moved silently through the reeds toward the creek where the sounds were originating. He could hear at least four hobgoblins distinctly, and the muffled cry of a girl that he assumed was Ta’Kaylah. One of the hobgoblins appeared amongst the reeds, facing away from Lucky. Time to prove my name, he thought. Without a sound, Lucky waited for the right moment. One of the hobgoblins spoke in a language that almost sounded like Common, and the girl screamed. Lucky moved into action. From the squatting position, he stood up as he swung his sword upward. The result was a hobgoblin split almost perfectly in half: groin to head. The spray of blood gave his position away and chaos ensued. Lucky heard none of it, save for the voice of the girl. He flowed like water as he fought his way through the reeds, giving no thought to his fighting style or stances; normally those were ever present in his mind and impaired his ability to spar with others.

When Lucky reached the girl, Ta’Kaylah, his bride, she was bound with her arms behind her back and sitting with her legs bound at the knees. He rushed to her and cut the rope binding her elbows and wrists. “Any others?”

Ta’Kaylah rocked her shoulders once her arms were free. “One. He ran off before you showed up. I think to get the boss or something. Mom sent you?” Lucky nodded, and Ta’Kaylah relaxed. “So she’s safe. Good. Lucky,” she said as he was trying to cut her legs free. He paused and looked up. “I’m glad it was you,” she whispered with a smile.

Lucky stared into the eyes of his future bride and his sky-blue eyes showed wisdom and determination not normally found in a fifteen-year-old. “Ta’Kaylah,” he said in a returning whisper, “I will always come when you need me”. He then helped her up. “Your mother will be worried. Let’s get back”.