We marched on a never-ending road of broken minds and callused feet. Our weapons were rusted with the yellow blood of the arachnids, borrowed swords from failed campaigns into enemy territory. Several battalions of King Henry’s army, hundreds in number, left the city of Minora seven fortnights ago but the journey felt like seven years. We marched with frayed minds to the inevitable conclusion of the destruction of the arachnids and our possible death.

Camping throughout the dry, dead forests of Farine many of our fellow soldiers fell into poverty without proper pension from the lord. The portlier in the regiment had already taking to boiling their leather bootstraps. Red and blue tunics had turned brown, fading with mud and ash. We turned to eating the smaller insects that themselves were emaciated. A ruckus broke out when half the Fourth Regiment rioted over the female prisoners that were to be taken back to Minora and sold as slaves. It seemed some of the men wanted them for their own cruel and baser needs. King Henry, who resided in his own royal tent, ordered the offenders to be executed, diminishing the troops even further.

King Henry had already been on edge in his campaign to reclaim his beloved daughter from the grasp of the arachnid abduction. He sorely lacked the knowledge of the arachnid’s heartland but was driven blindly by faith and parental duty. The arachnids were savage and merciless, at least as far as what the army knew about them, having sacked Tinsville and the farmlands of the east with their minion horde. The only certain advantage to their defeat wasn’t metal or bow, but fire.

On the seventh day of the respite in Farine the trebuchets were brought to the fore of the camp after word came from a scout that the brutal enemy horde was brooding in a valley just beyond the eastern fields. The turmoil had started once King Henry’s beloved Natalie went missing from her chambers in the keep. A note was left, written in haste in the hand of his daughter that she had fled to be with her own beloved, Baron Druun from the tribes of Bohemia. King Henry flew to Bohemia on horseback with his vanguard and demanded the return of his daughter. When he arrived Bohemia Castle had been attacked, leaving the Baron infected with arachnid toxin. His final words indicated that Natalie had been abducted. In his rage the King vowed to find her and return her to safety, despite the common belief that by now she would have been devoured by the remorseless and vile arachnids.

With great sadness in his eyes the King marched to the front of the camp on the eighth day and ordered a full advance. As the columns formed, we set out to the valley of arachnids with many men moaning in disillusionment and sorrow for they knew that the battle would be violent and suicidal. But the King showed as much remorse as the arachnids when they feasted on the bodies of the dead during the fabled War of the Spider Queen.

Three days of marching brought the battalions to the crest of the valley, which was bordered in high rocky cliffs and a miasma of volcanic smoke, cracks in the earth creating pillars of red and black. This, the soldiers met with dour expressions and half, uneven gaits. At the opening of the valley of darkness King Henry gave his mournful speech filled with lamentation for his stolen offspring. He seemed to know that this fight might have been futile but to preserve his dignity and his lineage he would do anything to vanquish the oppressive insects.

The banners were raised in the blooming triumph from his words. Even I couldn’t help feel a sense of fealty and veneration for the cause. A line of fiery projectiles was launched from the hillside into the valley below. With bated breath we watched and waited for several hours. Caves could be seen from the steep incline from where we stood. This is where they would surface from the depths of the underworld. Trebuchet follies continued their bombardment of the rocky valley floor, distant booms and cracks were heard by the soldiers, who shuddered at the coming scourge, like a wave of fear. The King remained stoic on his steed while the seven priests stood behind his vanguard, preparing for the recital of last rites.

Stoicism soon vanished from the field of weary soldiers, if there was any left at all, as the miniature crawlers came into the sunlight, their shiny carapaces reflecting back at us standing there on the hill. My eyes couldn’t believe what I was seeing. They were real! The arachnid horde spilled out like a shower of raindrops from a fountain, surging out of the several cracks and holes in the cliff face. Many looked at each other in disbelief. The spiders were larger than any of us expected, standing at the height of Clydesdales.

Henry saw that the fiery projectiles were doing a good job of keeping the arachnids at bay. He roared with a bellow and raised his longsword to charge. His vanguard followed, stampeding down the hill towards the frontline. Infantry men followed while the archers let loose a sun-blotting volley. Chaos ensued. Regiments became entangled, some tripping over each other’s feet. I held my breath when I saw the King driving his cavalry wedge into the fiery enemy horde. Soon it became obvious we were outmatched. Spiders were dismounting the horsemen with violent leaping attacks, the king disappearing in the fray.

The first battalion that reached the battle were decimated as the arachnids leapt on them and devoured them completely. Giant balls of fire and volleys of arrows rained down over the battlefield once I arrived closer, creating a thick blanket of smoke. The arachnids burst through the gray wall and dragged several of my comrades into the darkness. My eyes burned with the ash and blood that sprayed forth. Desperately I sought the King in the foray but only found a swatch of death where the vanguard had cut through. The soldiers must’ve done the same and when they couldn’t find the King turned tail and routed back in fear. 

On all sides I became surrounded by the black monsters, scurrying faster than a thoroughbred in and out of my peripheral like dark ghosts with thin, spindly legs. I could smell the viscera of the dead and the defecation of the same men who were too petrified to run. At last, I saw the King standing in the center of several arachnids once the ashen clouds dispersed. To my shock the monsters were not attacking yet their mandibles clicked in defiant rage. With my sword at the ready I rushed behind and followed him as he stepped closer. My heart stopped after several moments passed, watching the standoff. They suddenly parted like a receding tide. They were creating a path for the king…

Again I followed until the King, reluctant in his slow advance, came face to horrid face with a giant arachnid. This must’ve been their Queen, the evil and wretched spider queen that birthed the horde, coming out of her hovel to face the enemy army. But it was the figure on the top of the queen that made even the king lower his guard and his sword.

Natalie descended from the top of the queen and dropped to the battleground, landing on her feet and armored in a suit of makeshift carapace. The king bent a knee to her and seemed to be grateful for her safe return. I came closer and, leaning over a fallen horse, heard the exchange. She had an expression of heartfelt benevolence but expressed anger in his father’s ignoble campaign. She explained how she orchestrated her kidnapping and how she wished that he had never come. Tears filled her eyes. Evidently, she had promised the spider queen that there would be no war, that there would be no battle. The constant stalemates, the constant plots of revenge and continued violence, she had grown tired of it and only wanted peace between arthropod and man. When Druun was poisoned during a confrontation between a migrating arachnid horde and his army she vowed to help the arachnids migrate to a peaceful land to the east, away from mankind, to procreate in joyful solitude. For if their numbers were not continually slaughtered there was no need for high birth rates. It seemed that Druun was the aggressor in that fight and lost. The look in her eyes…She was begging…begging for forgiveness. King Henry nearly stood trying to hold her trembling hands but no, she wasn’t begging him. She was begging the queen. The vow that she made…was meant to be paid in blood.

It was too late and the king knew it. He lowered his head in defeat, in acceptance of his fate. The rest of the soldiers looked on from the hillside, knowing full well that their commander was gone. We were meant to be separated, to exist in different realms. It was only the greed of man that pushed them to retaliate and grow in numbers. Natalie looked at me and nodded, giving me a sign to run, to return home and tell the others of my story. This I accepted gratefully. As I turned to flee, I saw the dread queen lurch forward and devoured the king all at once. I cringed, knowing that I would never have to return here and that someday I would be haunted every night by the remembrance of the secluded arachnids of the valley.