Perseus – In the time of Ancient Greek Myth and Legend

Perseus stood bravely in between his warriors, nearly one hundred strong, all men said to possess the strength of Oxen and the hunting ability of a Mountain Lion. They were armed to the teeth with swords, shields, dirks, spears and arrows and they were adorned with leather and metal clad armour; and leather sandals.

They were not exactly ‘his’ warriors. He had hired them with his own coin… all of the rest of his own coin, for this very expedition.

They had arrived on landing boats from the Galley ships which were anchored a few hundred marks out, due to the rocky coastline.

The warriors had dragged the boats ashore and stowed them, gathered their gear and prepared for the expedition to continue.

“There, the rocky cliffs, up there is where the wicked Medusa dwells, so said the Graeae,” Perseus stated, pointing with his gauntlet covered arm, and his long finger outstretched.

They all looked across the landscape, a mixture of craggy rocks, scrubland and wilderness and a dense and dark woodland.

The warriors started trudging forwards, their sandals crunched through the sand until they reached the outcropping of undergrowth.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the skies were painted with hues of orange and crimson. The warriors ventured into the wilderness; they lit torches which cast long shadows on the uneven ground.

They picked and hacked their way through the undergrowth until they passed into the dense woodland. The thick bark of the trees creaked in the wind.

As the warriors ventured into the dense, dark woods, their torchlight cast eerie shadows that danced among the ancient trees. The air was thick with tension, the crackling of leaves beneath their feet muffled by the weight of uncertainty. Their hearts thudded with a mixture of apprehension and determination as they zig-zagged their path through.

There was a shrill cry in the night air, it cracked through the air, it was a high- pitched cry that struck fear in the hearts of the men and it definitely caused them to pause, wide eyed and look about them anxiously.

“What was that?” hushed whispers arose amongst them.

“That be a banshee,” one said.

“It’s a ghost,” another said.

“It’s a mountain goat, that’s all,” the Sergeant of Arms barked, whacking two of the soldiers across the shoulders with a truncheon. “Now move it along, we need to make progress to make camp,”

The warriors trudged on through the woodland, slightly more uneasily than before.

“It’s a bad omen, is what it is,” a bag carrying sherpa glumly reported near the rear of the baggage train.

“Azrael and Lander,” the Sergeant growled at two of his fastest runners and sharpest scouts. They were light of foot and sharp of eye. “Go out forwards, give us a range of a few hundred marks, be quick about it but quiet as you like, and Azrael, if you can find a nifty way to them caves up there; go do it son and be quick about it; I’d be quite happy to break my fast up there,”

“Aye,” they nodded in salute and they were off, barely audible under foot.

By now the troop had returned into a monotonous march, crunching through undergrowth, the size of their troop meant that they made the sound of elephants when they were marching; it was unavoidable for these particular battle ready Warriors, weighed down with armour, weapons, gear and shields; apart from the light-footed scouts who were lightly dressed and armed.

“Mountain goat?” Perseus whispered into the Sergeant’s ear at his side. The bearded Sergeant glanced grouchily at him.

“That sound weren’t no mountain goat, Master Perseus,” the Sergeant of Arms said in the most hushed of tone. “But we don’t be wanting nobody saying otherwise,”

“What do you think it was?” Perseus asked him.

“It weren’t no goat, it weren’t no Mountain Lion, no wild horse, nor Boar, nor deer, nor anything of that sort. It weren’t human neither, that’s for sure.”

“What could it have been then?” Perseus asked impatiently, and anxiously.

“Fuck knows Master, excuse me language, I ain’t in the guessing game, I’m a soldier that be true, it sounded like that noise came from over yonder,” the Sergeant marked with his hand. “Don’t ye worry Master, we ain’t heading that way anyway, our troop be heading several marks across from there, our scouts’ll shift anything they see; don’t ye worry. That Azreal he’s got a mean bow and arrow and he’ll have an arrow shaft through the dick of whatever that thing was in no time; you’ll see.”

Perseus left it at that, slightly unsatisfied.

The trudging of the troop continued, the leather flaps of trim around their thighs clattered as they marched, the metal of their armour clinked, the swords, shields and weaponry all chinked as they trudged upwards along the hill through the woodland.

A sharp human cry cut through the night air this time; it caused the troop to stop dead once again. Those who hadn’t been concentrating, and had fallen into a marching trance of a sort, bumped into their fellows in front and stumbled to a stop.

The cry was cut short before the sound of the trudging troop ceased. It sounded male and it sounded painful and terrified.

Nobody spoke, they were well trained, they listened, their ears pricked up.

The Sergeant opened his mouth slightly, to hear better, his leather helm strap stretched slightly. Perseus watched him listening, waiting for his guidance and direction.

There was just silence, apart from the rustling of the leaves in the trees, the creaking branches and the lapping of the waves on the coast behind them.

“Should we double back and make camp on the coast?” Perseus asked.

“What and risk getting pushed into the ocean by whatever might be here?” The Sergeant responded. He shook his head. “No, we need to head for the top of the hill and make camp and a defensible position there for the night,” he whispered.

“Right, I’m going to the front, Master Perseus, will you join me?” The Sergeant suggested. Perseus looked about nervously, realising that the Sergeant had strategically said that loud enough for the surrounding warriors to hear; thereby giving Perseus little choice other than to appear craven.

“I’m with you,” Perseus responded.

They crunched and pushed through the warriors as they made their way to the front, it took a goodly few minutes to reach the front of the troop.

“What see or hear you?” The Sergeant asked the rangers at the front.

“We heard the cry Serg, that definitely be the voice of Lander,” one of the rangers’ responded, his eyes looked slightly unnerved. Lander was a good brave soldier and a cracking scout.

“Anything else?” Sergeant asked.

“Not a peep Serg,” the ranger responded. The Sergeant paused and listened for a few moments.

“Alright, on ahead, six of you, with me, and Master Perseus; rest of you, all around defence; spears out all prickly like, shields up; mind your fellows and maintain your shield locks; I don’t want nothing getting through. If so much as a rat farts through ye shield wall I’ll get your bollocks in me hand and rip ‘em off,” the Sergeant growled back to his troop. “Corporal, you’ve got the troop,” he said to one of his next in line of command. 

The warrior troop squatted and as quietly as possible prepared their defensive position, they fanned out and circled into a defensive position; the sherpas, kit, and bowmen all positioned in the centre of the circle; with the Corporal ready to issue orders. A brazier was set up and prepared to be lit.

“Torches out,” the Sergeant stated. All torches were extinguished and they squatted for a goodly time to allow their eyes to adjust to the night.

“Onwards,” the Sergeant whispered to their squad of men and they very quietly proceeded away from the main troop.

Soon they were alone, just eight of them, quietly and carefully tiptoeing their way through the dense undergrowth. No man had cut a path through this woodland, it had seemed, it was wild and unsullied. They proceeded for some time, until they caught an awful stench. A terrible stench, it caught badly in the throat.  

The Sergeant’s guts tightened. He knew that smell. He hated that smell, but he knew it too well.

“Hold, defences,” he ordered, they all silently squatted and brandished their shields and spears.  Their eyes scanned, the experienced soldiers knew the smell too.

“What’s that smell?” Perseus crinkled up his face.

“Guts Master, guts of man,” The Sergeant replied. Perseus looked at him sharply. The didn’t sound good. He looked out ahead in the darkness.

“Trane, step ahead,” The Sergeant instructed. “Everyone with him, careful now,” they crept forwards, squatting, shields and spears out on guard, Trane leading them. Then he stumbled and stopped dead.

They all stopped sharply and squatted. They could hear Trane fumbling with something on the ground.

“Serg,” he whispered. The Sergeant shimmied over to him and looked down, pressing out with his hand and feeling something warm and wet. He felt his way along it and felt a distinctive metal hilt wrapped with leather strapping. It was Lander’s dirk. He was feeling Lander’s hips, but they had been severed completely in two. His body was warm and fresh.

The Sergeant gritted his teeth. He felt along the cut, the poor man had been cut into two, snapped in half; something very strong had done that, but it was a serrated cut, not cleaved with a sharp blade.

The Sergeant paused, thinking. This was not what he had expected on this expedition. They knew it would be dangerous, there was a reason this Island was avoided by seamen, merchants and settlers alike, but a troop of warriors shouldn’t have been perturbed.

“Back to the troop,” he finally said. “Trane and Opal, you’ve got our rears,” he stepped back and gripped hold of Perseus’ shoulder bracer. “We’ll be following your idea and making camp at the beach tonight, I think,” he growled.

The Sergeant started making his way back down the rugged path that they had created through the undergrowth. He was somewhat more speedy and less stealthy than their approach had been. 

He didn't much fancy their chances in the darkness with whatever had caused Lander to be sliced into two like a piece of salami; and cause Azreal to disappear without a trace.  

The other troops kept pace with him, he could hear them all panting and exerting themselves as they worked their way through the tangle of wiry undergrowth. 

Then they heard it again, the shrill cry of whatever creature was out there, from behind. It echoed through the wood and chilled their hearts. 

It struck fear through the Sergeant's heart and he was not a fearful man, by any stretch. 

He withdrew his sword from its leather scabbard and spun on his heel. 

"Nooo!" There came a scream from from of his men from behind, a rustling sound, something heavy stomped on feet, there were many feet, it sounded like. 

Then there was a terrible squelching sound and a crunching of bone, another human scream of agony and terror. 

"Back to the troop, run!" The Sergeant ordered. He held back a moment, grabbing a spear from one of his passing men, let the last of them pass him. He listened to the sounds in the darkness ahead of him. Her heard the sound of scrabbling feet, many feet, the sound of scratching on tree bark. 

He stood poised with his arm holding the spear, and threw it towards where he thought the target was. 

He struck it true, but there was the lightest spark of light, caused by the metal tip of the spear glancing off a hard surface of something. He saw a dark hairy surface. 

He didn't wait to see what happened next, he turned and fled with his men. He ran through the dense undergrowth, ducking under branches, diving his way through and charging between trees. 

Something very heavy was skittering behind him, crashing into trees, but maintaining a frightening speed; it was gaining on him. 

He could see the metal of the weapons of his troop ahead, gleaming in the crescent moon that had appeared through cloud above. 

"Fire arrows, on me!" He bellowed the order as he ran.  

He saw fire arrows being lit on the brazier; that had been smouldering in the centre of the makeshift defensive position. 

"Draw…Aim… loose!" He heard the Corporal shouting out. 

A volley of glowing arrows shot through the night outwards from the troop, a few thudded into trees and branches on the way, many more zipped over and above, but a solid two score of them found their target behind the Sergeant. 

He risked a glance backwards, he was eager to see their adversary, but wished he hadn't looked once he saw the monstrosity that was behind him. 

As he looked back, the fire arrows lit up a terrifying sight, eight gleaming giant orb like black eyes, hairy pedipalps and head of a giant spider, a huge cephalothorax spread out behind the eyes. It was an impossible beast to behold. A creature of myth and legend. 

The fire arrows thwacked into different parts of the giant hairy arachnid. It was lit up for a few moments and screeched a terrifying sound which caused the Sergeant to drop to his knees and clutch his ears with his hands; pressing them firmly against his ears. 

The spider reared up on its hind legs, it was several metres tall and a good five or six metres long, a terrifying aberration. The Sergeant could see huge fangs beneath the enormous head. 

As soon as the screeching ended the Sergeant was up and slashing at the despicable creature with his sword.  

He heard the roar of his troop behind him. The Corporal had ordered them to charge the monster; presumably to save their Sergeant. 

Another volley of fire arrows, much more accurately aimed, thwacked into the spider again, causing little flashes of flame across its hairy body, abdomen and one struck an eye. 

The spider reared and squealed again in pain. 

A spear flew through the air and glanced off the huge body. 

The spider lunged towards the Sergeant, fangs snapping, but then his troop were with him, shoulder to shoulder. Shields up, guarding against the monster's strikes, the spiders legs pummelled the shield wall and it enabled the Sergeant to get a breather for a moment.  

The spider paused, it prodded the shields with the tips of its giant hairy legs, it tried to curl its long hairy legs around the tops of the shields, but the warriors stabbed at the legs and body with their spears, forcing it to squeal and withdraw slightly. 

Flaming torches were thrust towards the spider, forcing it back some more. It retreated away from the glow of the flame, skittering diagonally away, but it remained just outside the arc of light. 

The line of soldiers began to withdraw, stepping backwards, but maintaining their guard. 

Another volley of arrows were let loose, clattering into the spider and the surroundings. 

The spider spat and squealed in anger. 

From behind there were suddenly panicked shouts. 

The Sergeant swung to look, in dismay to see another giant spider had appeared on their right flank, its stripy beige and dark hairy body flashed in the light as it pounced onto a soldier and plunged its fangs into the poor soldier's chest, paralysing him. 

Before anyone could do anything the arachnid was dragging the paralysed soldier into the darkness. The last they saw of him was his metal helm rolling loose along the ground. 

The line of defence pivoted, they were well trained and seasoned warriors. Despite the fearsome creatures they knew how to work as a unit. As one they were stronger.  

A scream to the left flank spun the Sergeant around, a third giant spider dark red and sand colour had appeared and pounced onto two soldiers. The spiders were assaulting them from all sides. 

"Pull back, all round defence!" The Sergeant bellowed, as the two men were pinned down. 

The spider plunged its fangs into one of them, curled its long powerful legs around the other and spun it's huge silken web, swiftly turning the wriggling body and covering him in a web cocoon. 

Spearmen lunged towards the spider. It spat towards them, jerking forwards, causing them to hesitate; before it grabbed both of its prey and dragged them away, one of the soldiers was screaming as he was dragged away. 

"Light torches!" The Corporal ordered. "Fire the flare arrow!" He demanded. A particularly bright arrow was let loose straight into the sky. A moment later a horn bellowed from the distance, from the flagship of the flotilla of ships in the bay.

Tales of Myth and Legend

Chapter 5 – The Tale of Medusa – Part 2

By Richard C.H. Davies

Warning this story contains: Giantess witch, fantasy fiction, Shrunken Man, giantess, kidnap, giant woman lick, soft vore, naked giantess, chase, hard vore, giant spiders, handheld, taunting, entrapment, warfare and action

Those at the rear of the troop might have seen a faint set of lights on the flagship as the master brazier was lit; the single catapult of the flotilla was being prepared for battle. 

The Sergeant was withdrawing with his men, keeping the middle spider at bay, the other wings of their flanks were very promptly swinging inwards, moving away from the flanking spiders which reappeared again for more prey. 

Then the soldiers reached the outer defences of the main troop and withdrew back inside their ranks to bolster the hastily prepared defences. They were digging and embedding the butt ends of their spears into the ground, and diagonally pointing the sharp ends outwards, to create makeshift fortifications. It worked well against horses, but giant spiders… that was anyone's guess. 

"Fire," the Sergeant called back, "Fire seems to work," 

A loud horn was blown from the middle of their troop, directed as a signal towards the flagship down in the bay below, and another flare arrow was launched upwards above the central spider. 

A volley of fire arrows unveiled the spiders with a flash of light. They were slowly approaching the line of defences, the flash of light caused them to skitter sideways slightly. 

They were jumpy, but already getting used to light and flame. 

A whooshing sound above them caused the troop to snap their heads upwards. 

A cheer broke out as they saw the first fireball soaring through the air from the ship mounted catapult. 

The ball of flame burst against a tree not too far in front of them, spilling the contents of oil and fire, spreading across the branch of the tree, and creating quite a flash of fire. 

The spiders shrieked in shock and surprise and immediately jumped away from the source of light.  

"Not a half bad shot!" The Sergeant called back to the Corporal. "Again!" 

The horn was blared and another flare arrow let loose, a few marks angled over from the last.  

The soldiers remained firm as the spiders edged around the arc of light cast by the burning tree. They skittered around it; their huge legs carried their colossal weight as they charged the defences. 

A loud whoosh from above and a fireball arced overhead, this one wasn't aimed so well and thumped too many marks away to be of any use. It set another tree ablaze further away.  

The horn blew again, with urgency. More fireballs demanded. 

The spiders had summoned enough courage. 

They charged the troop. 

The first two spiders attacked at the sides in a pincer movement. 

"They're coordinated!" Perseus shouted out in shock. 

"Aim spears at their eyes and let loose arrows, fire at will," the Sergeant picked up a spear which was embedded behind the defence wall, ready for use. 

The Sergeant saw a number of spears thrown, and bouncing away from the hard body of the spiders.

One of the men overextended themselves and exposed themselves outside of the shield wall, just for an instant. It was enough, one of the spiders plucked him away from his comrades. He was lifted up, shouting and swearing, swiping with his sword. 

The spider scurried off with the shouting soldier into darkness. 

The Sergeant focused on the middle spider drew his arm back, settled the spear, aiming at the spider. 

He held his aim and threw the spear. 

There was an almighty squeal from the spider, when his spear made contact, the tip of his spear pierced through the centre of the cluster of eyes. 

The other two spiders seemed angered by this and they charged with abandon. They lunged straight into the spear wall, but it didn't perturb them, they seemed to nimbly weave their way through the sharp spears, despite their relative large sizes. 

The spiders crashed into the locked shield wall next. Men groaned as they strained under the weight of the creatures. Hairy legs prodded and searched for weaknesses in the defences. 

Another man was plucked up from the defensive line and tossed aside by the spider. He was heard screaming as he was dragged away. 

The spiders were organised and determined; they were working as a team just like the soldier troop was. 

A whoosh of a fireball soared overhead, a lucky aim Indeed, because it burst straight on top of the distressed spider, with the Sergeant's spear in its eyes; dousing it in oil and flame. 

The giant spider let out an almighty screech, causing men to cover their ears.

The men defending against the spiders had no such luxury. They roared in pain under the several tonnes of weight the spiders brought to bear. 

The far side of the defensive circle thinned out, soldiers crossed to defend their fellows, bravely wading in to stab and swipe at the hairy legs which swung this way and that. 

A soldier was squirted with a silken stream from the spider's rear spinnerets. He shouted out in horror as it pinned his arms to his chest. 

Two fellow soldiers helped to cut him loose with their dirks before he could be plucked up and dragged away. They fended off the hairy legs of the spider with their weapons and shields. 

Flaming torches were stabbed at the spiders, the troop had recovered from the disarray of their defensive wall. They surrounded the two spiders, thrusting at them with sword, spear, and flaming torches. 

The spiders squealed in frustration, their fangs not long enough to reach their quarries. 

They struck out with their sharp legs, denting shields and sending men flying in all directions. 

Several more men were plucked up and stolen away by the monstrous creatures, sucked away into the darkness of the wood. 

Each time a man was taken the soldiers grit their teeth, tightened their defences even more, linking their shields and digging their sandals into the soil. They had to stick together, literally. These incredibly strong spiders could toss a muscular soldier into the air with no effort. 

As the men coordinated and learned, they found weaknesses. The greater number, bravery and coordination of the soldiers gave them a slight edge. 

They realised the weak spots were the joints of the legs, and the sockets to the body, the eyes, and the mouth. 

They struck at those spots with their spears, forcing the sharp points of the spears into those soft spots. 

The two giant spiders, whilst much larger, fearsome looking and deadly, were overwhelmed by these smaller bipedal human creatures armed with fire and sharp pointy things. 

"Right flank, drive your spears into the side," the Sergeant ordered. "Arrows into the eyes," he ordered a squad of bowmen who had assembled in front of the right spider. 

The spears crunched into the spider, forcing its head down, exposing its eyes, the bowmen had already drawn together and let loose a volley, for a bowman it was point blank, at a range of a matter of metres. 

All eight eyes were compromised, the arrows shredded into the spiders’ eyes, causing it to wail in agony and anguish.

"Mount it, stab from above, spears from below, drive it through the mouth!" The Sergeant ordered. 

He turned to the other spider, the spearmen were trying to repeat the tactic, but the spider seemed smarter than they gave it credit. 

It spun on itself, sweeping its legs around, knocking twelve soldiers from their feet all at once. 

It stabbed two of them in the gut with its legs, and pounced on a third, plunging its fangs into him, he screamed in agony; but the brave man drove his dirk straight upwards into the mouth of the spider, causing it to release a gush of dark disgusting fluid from its mouth. 

The spider wobbled and scudded to the side, its large legs scampering and careering it away. It crashed into a tree. 

Perseus surprised the Sergeant; with a sudden burst of bravery, he hadn't yet seen in the man before. A sneak and a cheek, yes indeed he was, a thief with the Graeae, yes indeed, but a brave warrior, he hadn't pinned on him.  

Perseus launched himself towards the spider, his mirrored shield slamming hard into the fangs, forcing them back. Perseus swung with his sword and severed the left pedipalp clean off. 

His sudden assault encouraged more soldiers to launch a fresh attack. They roared, charging the spider, with sword and spear. The Sergeant looked around them, wounded men in all directions, a good twenty men pinning the other spider down and skewering it, the third flaming spider dying in the distance. 

He looked out for other threats. Were there only three? Their defences had broken up. 

"All around defences," he spun to the men. "Tighten us up, fresh shield wall, in case more of those fuckers come," the soldiers who weren't immediately preoccupied jumped to his orders. 

He looked back to see Perseus and five other soldiers forcing the spider against a tree; pushing and driving spears, with all their strength, into the hard outer shell of the arachnid. 

The spider squealed, leading another soldier to plunge a spear right into its mouth, causing another deluge of dark goop to pour from its mouth. 

Another spear burst into the abdomen, causing it to rip open and discharge more fluid. 

Several more slashes and stabs and the giant spider rolled onto its side, its legs twitching convulsively, it's life ebbing away. 

"Launch another flare, let's get more fire in the air," he shouted out. 

A flare arrow launched upwards, there was a pause, too long. There was mostly silence, apart from the moans of the wounded. The spiders were dead and silent. 

Thirty seconds later there followed a whoosh above them, the fireball landed thirty marks from their position and it lit up a horrifying sight. 

A multitude of dark eyes, hairy legs, terrifying giant spiders, there were tens of them. They veered from the burst of flames but their intent was clear. 

"Shit," the Sergeant grumbled. Sweat poured from his forehead and stung his eyes. How the hell were they going to survive the night? The thought crossed his mind. 

"Tighten the defences, pull it in lads, wounded into the middle, give them weapons," the soldiers immediately obeyed his orders, tightening up, recovering, taking a sip of water, readying their defences for another onslaught. 

A horn sounded from behind, much closer this time. The Sergeant swung round to see a double path of torches had been lit all the way up from the beach to their position. 

"Bloody hell," the Corporal blurted out, "you seamen ain't half bad, daft as donkeys but ain't half bad," he greeted one of the captains as they jogged into the circle breathing heavily. 

"We've lit you a path back Master Perseus," the captain leaned towards, the spider gunk covered, Perseus, "the number of flares you lot were firing up had us worried. We figured either you wanted a fancy firework show or you were in the shit…" he broke off at the sight of the giant spiders. 

"What on Zeus is that monstrosity, what beastly evil is this?" He cried incredulously. "Shit, if we knew them giant spiders were out here, I don't think I would have convinced my crews to touch a foot on land, don't let 'em see it." 

Perseus approached and greeted him with a warm shake of hands. 

"Captain, are we glad to see you,"

"Glad maybe, but we wants us paying for this, we figured we can't have you dying and not getting us paid," he grimaced and started their way back down the path, which his sailors were busily hacking clear of undergrowth with long blades. 

The Sergeant immediately started to withdraw his troops under the cover of fire torches.

The giant spiders pursued them for some time, keeping a distance from the torchlight, but they gave up chase immediately when the woodland thinned out. 

The roars of relief as they trod on the sand was palpable. 

They set up a temporary defence on the beach, the sea lapped behind them. Moonlight danced across the waves. The sail ships, masts dropped, were silhouetted in the distance against the horizon of the moonlight night.  

"Back to the boats, I say," the captain encouraged. "Shall we call this madness off Master Perseus? We can find you a nice lass elsewhere, somewhere without this kind of business, what say you, Sir?" 

"We lost very good men tonight, too many Sir," the Sergeant grimaced as he looked between them. "I haven't done no headcount yet, but not even mentioning the wounded I reckon we've lost at least a fifth of my men."

Perseus visibly paled in the moonlight. 

"We must go on chaps, for glory, we must kill this Medusa. The witch is undoubtedly behind this abhorrent evil here. We cannot let it stand," Perseus spoke boldly.

"Then let's go back to the mainland and assemble a proper army Sir, I'll help you recruit it," the Sergeant responded with a glower.

"With what money?" Perseus glowered. "This expedition is all my money, let's return to the boats and make a new plan. There was a desert on the other side of the island. Let's try that approach tomorrow, I doubt the spiders will be out in the open in daylight. Perhaps we can find another route to Medusa's cave."

The Sergeant grimaced but nodded. 

"Right lads, we're loading onto the boats, salted meat for all tonight," there was a tired cheer from the troop and they got straight to work. 

*

Azrael panted, leaning against the stone outcropping of the cave entrance. 

He looked back over his shoulder; down the very steep scree incline of the rocky hill he had climbed. 

The cave entrance was embedded and carved through the cliff rockface. He looked across the vista of the treetop canopy, he could see the deep, dark and dense woodland that he had lightly sprinted through. 

He could see the glowing torches of the troop following their withdrawal back towards the beach, the path of torches was starting to extinguish itself through the woodland back to the beach. 

He knew that he was alone up here now. He regained his breath. 

He had split up from Lander several marks after leaving the troop, they had decided it would be faster to reconnoitre ahead separately. 

Azrael had not come into contact with anything, he had heard the oddest sounds in the wood though, he had heard scrabbling and shuffling along the ground and the trees; but he had left it all behind as soon as he reached the rocky climb of the hill.

He had heard Lander's scream and then the sounds of battle behind him, but by then he had been too deep into the woodland already to turn back.

He knew not what had caused the kerfuffle; but he knew that the troop had come under some strain when the flagship catapult had been called in to provide artillery support. That was some expensive payload they had launched. They didn’t call on that kind of firepower lightly.

The withdrawal of the troop to the beach was also unexpected, he had never witnessed their troop having to retreat from a fight before; without a severe reason. They were a battle-hardened bunch, as hardened as mercenaries came. A worthy foe was in that woodland, perhaps their adversary had set an ambush and the troop was regrouping. 

However, he knew that his mission was to locate the cave, Medusa's cave.  

He looked at the wall entrance and saw intricate patterns carved into the walls. 

It looked like he had come to the right place, it appears that humans or something sentient dwelled here; or had dwelled here.

He glared inside but could only see darkness ahead of him. He could feel warm air drifting out from the cave entrance.

He reached for his bow and quickly lit a flare arrow. 

He drew his bow and fired the flare into the air above him. 

*

An hour or two into the work of loading onto the boats one of their scouts spotted a fire arrow arcing through the air, a flare, right far up the hill in the distance, right up by the caves that were their ultimate destination. 

"Look," Perseus pointed in surprise. "Is it possible that is one of ours?"

"Very possible," the Sergeant looked up in amazement, "I'd be willing to bet my entire expedition pay on that flare being the work of Azrael, our finest scout," they made eye contact. 

"That must mean…"

"It's possible to get up to them caves without being munched right up by a herd of them giant spiders," the Sergeant finished Perseus' thought process. He nodded. 

"Yes, but perhaps it's easier for one light footed man, than a whole troop of soldiers tramping through the wood," Perseus stated. 

"There weren't no tramping goin’ on boy, it's the sheer size of our troop, my men be the finest…" 

"I know, but my point being that if we go much more quietly, then we stand a chance… perhaps I should just go alone…" Perseus started forwards with a look that the Sergeant knew far too well. 

"Strike that insane brave look off your young face Sir, I know you be my boss on this expedition, you're the employer sir, but I ain't having you trampling through the woodland on ye own," he grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back and shook him slightly. "Get that thought outta ye head Sir," the Sergeant had never called him Sir before, the best he had got was Master or Laddie. Had he earned a glimmer of respect from the Sergeant at arms? 

"But I can't risk the deaths of all of these men, whether I'm paying or not. I didn't know that there would be these giant creatures here. The most I thought would be here would be a fire vagabonds, some pirate encampment, squatters… you know, the like," 

"None of us knew that," the Sergeant looked at him for an instant as an equal. "I suspect that the benevolent king who sent you on this fool's errand is the only one who knew how treacherous it was. Is there a chance mayhap that he doesn't want you to succeed on this foolish endeavour?"

Perseus tore his eyes away from the hill and made eye contact with the Sergeant. He nodded lightly. The Sergeant didn’t mince his words.

"It's possible… yes, but what about Azrael?"

"He's a strong lad, as you've just witnessed, but I can't risk marching me whole troop through that cursed woodland again tonight. Not just for one man, if it were me up there, I'd expect the same…" his eyes grew distant for a moment, perhaps an old memory plagued him there and then. 

"No, sir, we'll respond with an arrow, tell him we've seen him, but we're loading on them boats, and we are going to plan a sensible approach once day breaks, not before and we are going to plan a sensible approach."

*

Azrael watched the troop at the beach for a few moments and saw a fiery streak shoot up from the ground into the sky. They had seen his flare. They knew his position. 

Azreal glanced back into the cave, considering his next move. 

Something called to him from within. 

"Azrael," the voice called. "Azrael…" it sounded like the wind, but he swore he heard his name. 

"Who's there?" He called out. There was silence, but he felt a sudden urge to enter the cave.

He resisted, he stood firm, he would stand his post until the troop guided him in. 

"Azrael, the brave, come, come within," the voice called, compelling him. The urge grew stronger, it felt like it was almost literally tugging him inside. 

Azrael lifted a torch which was strapped to his belt and struck an igniter, lighting the torch. It spluttered to life with a dancing orange flame. 

The firelight flickered eerie shadows which jumped and shifted across the cave walls. Azrael took a tentative step forward. Then another step, and then some more, until he was working his way through the twisting and turning stone corridor.

Tales of Myth and Legend

Chapter 6 – Medusa’s Cave

By Richard C.H. Davies

Warning this story contains: Giantess witch, fantasy fiction, Shrunken Man, giantess, kidnap, giant woman lick, soft vore, naked giantess, chase, hard vore, giant spiders, handheld, taunting, entrapment, warfare and action

Azrael – Entrance to the caves on the hill

Azrael very carefully picked his way through the entrance of the cave. 

He left the chill air of the night behind him as he felt warm air billowing outwards and washing across his face and neck. 

Something was definitely inside this cave. He could smell it in the air. He could have sworn he caught a whiff of incense burning, perhaps some Frankincense and some other oils.  

He stepped forwards with his sandals, reached down to his utility belt and lifted a torch. He struck his lighting flint and the torch flickered to life. 

Azrael held the torch ahead of him, in one hand, and his short sword in the other; as he proceeded through the winding tunnel entrance of the cave. 

After a few marks he felt like something ethereal was tugging at him, drawing him further in, compelling him to proceed. 

A voice whispered to life in his head, breaking the silence. He stopped dead in his tracks and listened.

It sounded faint and feminine, indeed the more he seemed to concentrate the more the whispers died away until he heard nothing at all. 

He waited in silence, waiting for the mysterious voice to speak again. He only heard his own breathing. He wondered if he had imagined it. 

He frowned and then proceeded forward again. 

"Welcome, Azrael of Thoricus," the whispered voice suddenly spoke, but it wasn't from within the cave. It felt like the voice was inside his own head. 

"How do you know my name?" He stopped dead and spoke back out loud. 

"I know many things, Azrael of Thoricus, master scout." He was taken aback, the voice was clearer in his head now. A female voice, that spoke with confidence and conviction. 

He wondered if it was wise to proceed any further, but the feeling tugging at him compelled him further inside. He felt an overwhelming feeling of calm and peace take hold of him. 

"You need not your sword or your torch," the voice continued, as he exited the tunnel and beheld a wide open chamber carved inside the rock of the cave. It was a huge internal cavernous space. 

The ground was generally flat and worn rock, ornate columns of stone projected from floor to ceiling, and the cave walls and columns were lined with flickering torches which were aflame with an eerie greeny orange light. 

Magic was afoot inside this place. He knew it to be true. He had never witnessed magic for himself, but what he was seeing with the flames wasn't natural, and the feeling of being pulled and the voices in his head all led him to suspect it. 

He felt himself being pulled further and further along. 

"You may sheath your sword and douse your torch, Azrael of Thoricus," the voice spoke to him. 

He complied immediately, looking around in wonder at the magnitude of the cavernous space. 

The air was warm and dry, it felt homely, but the torchlight flickering along the walls gave it an eerie atmosphere, creating dancing shadows along the craggy rock ceiling and walls. 

"Come, Azrael of Thoricus," the female voice beckoned him in his head. 

He strode forwards, looking behind columns and up at the ceiling. He was half expecting to be jumped by some kind of vagabond. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. 

He passed numerous stone columns, and a stone wellspring in the centre of the chamber. 

He stopped at the edge of the wellspring and peered downwards. He saw only darkness. 

He turned to look further along the cavern. At the far end there were long stone steps, leading up to some kind of stone altar. 

The altar was utilitarian and did not display any ornaments or articles of worship. 

There was a corridor to the side of the altar. 

"What is this place?" He called out. His voice echoed and reverberated around the cavern. 

"Gorham's cave… some call it," the female voice purred in his head.

Azrael kept moving forwards. He was none the wiser about this place; upon hearing its name. It was unlike any cave he had seen before and he had seen many. 

"Come to our chamber, a little further," the female voice called him. 

Azrael placed his sandal tentatively on the first stone step. 

It was firm and there were no booby traps in sight. 

He proceeded up the steps, keeping his stance low and ready for a fight. 

He reached the top and examined the altar. It was stained with faded blood. He could not tell if it was human or animal. 

He looked around for evidence of sacrifice but could find none. 

Animal sacrifice, especially of oxen, goats, and sheep were not uncommon in Ancient Greek society. Sacrifices took place within a sanctuary, usually at an altar in front of the temple, with the assembled participants consuming the entrails and meat of the victim. 

Azrael was not overly concerned by the sight of this blood stained altar; but he remained wary all the same. The lack of articles of worship was a red flag.  

He crept past the altar and entered the corridor. It was sharply carved in the stone cave but utilitarian in finish. 

There were a series of doorways connected to the corridor, but he saw light flooding out of the first one. 

The doorway was covered by a set of fabric curtains. 

"You may enter," spoke the female voice in his head. 

Azrael gently pushed the curtains open as he passed through the doorway and was stunned at what he saw inside. 

He saw not a hideous monster, as he was primed to behold. He was expecting the legendary Medusa, a Gorgon monstrosity with a head of living snakes and eyes shining white. 

Instead, he saw a glimmering living room, surrounded by treasure. It was lined with gold, silver, bronze, and many other materials of wealth. 

It looked like the treasure had started to be stacked and displayed neatly but over the years it had multiplied and then just been put on top of each other. 

There were gold coins, gold bars, gold plates, jewellery, jewels and diamonds. There were urns, and Faberge eggs, rings, hairpieces, and ornamental weapons. There was a beautiful looking golden harp, a long golden spear and coat of armour. 

What was this place? A treasure trove. He was rich! 

He stepped into the room and carefully checked the corners either side of him, in case this was an ambush. 

It was just filled with treasure. 

He looked ahead to see two armchairs sitting opposite one another. 

Both occupants were female. One was facing him. She was a beauty. Her skin was black, it shone with youth and radiance. She wore a gown which covered most of her body. 

The other woman was mostly facing away and not easy to see from where he was. 

In betwixt them was a gaming board. 

"You may enter Azreal of Thoricus, come, join our game," the dark-skinned woman spoke aloud. Her voice was the same as the one in his head. 

"Yours is the voice that was inside my head," he spoke in astonishment. "How did you do that?"

"She has many weird and wonderful skills," the other woman said. 

"I am Bradb," said the dark skinned woman with radiant skin that shone like starlight. "And this is Morrigan," she nodded towards her companion. 

Azreal tentatively entered the sitting room. Realising that it was decorated with a rug, beneath the chairs, and was incredibly homely; apart from the fact that it was surrounded with a jumble of treasure. 

He beheld the other woman in surprise. It was perhaps not her long blonde hair, her milky white skin, or her radiant beauty. 

It wasn't even the fact that her eyes shone and sparkled with a godlike golden glow. 

It was the ornate battle armour that she wore. She wore an emerald green chest piece, which looked moulded to her body. The armour demonstrated a muscular stomach with rippling muscles on the armour. It was moulded around her ample sized breasts which emerged above with a rounded cleavage. 

The front of her armour was emblazoned with silvery coloured serpents, which looked poised to strike. 

Silver lightning bolts were embossed on the armour from the top. 

Her shoulders and arms were equally covered with the extravagant armour plating. The armour was tailored exactly to her body. A very expensive piece of work that no ordinary armourer could create. 

"Good morrow, kindly ladies," Azreal greeted the beautiful women. 

"Ooh, kindly ladies?" The women looked to each other and giggled playfully. They wriggled in their seats. "We haven't been called that in a very long time," their eyes glistened and they beamed at each other. "You are a gentleman, Azrael of Thoricus. We are not used to that. We are only familiar with brutes, smugglers, theives and pirates," Bradb replied. 

"Hence the battle armour?" Azrael tipped his brow towards Morrigan. 

Her golden eyes glowed even brighter and he suddenly felt lost in those deep pools of light. 

"Indeed, Azrael of Thoricus," Morrigan replied smoothly. "Won't you join us?" She nodded towards the empty chair between them. 

Azrael frowned. He hadn't noticed that empty chair when he had entered the room. So distracted was he, by the treasure and the beauty of these women. 

"Time can pass differently here, sir," Bradb seemed to read his mind. 

Azrael should have been concerned about some kind of trickery, but he felt completely at ease. He took his place between the women. 

"I am seeking a monstrous Gorgon, she goes by the name of Medusa," Azrael stated. 

The women glanced at each other and smirked. 

"Monstrous, you say?" Morrigan said with a slight scowl. 

Azrael nodded. 

"So the legends say. Where is your lord, kindly ladies, may I speak with him?"

"Lord?" Bradb enquired with furrowed eyebrows. 

"You mean, which God do we worship?" Morrigan asked in confusion. 

"Ney, which Lord owns this wonderful place?" He clarified. 

The women glanced at each other again, their expressions darkened somewhat. 

"Ah, you mean, a man… which man owns us, you mean? Which man owns this place?" Morrigan fumed. "Of course, a pair of women could not possibly live here on our lonesome or own such property and treasures, or have created such a wondrous cavern. That would be an impossibility," she glowered sarcastically. 

"Oh, how lucky we are for this brave male soldier to free us from our solitude," Bradb continued. "We have been without male oversight for way too long,"

"I meant no offence," Azrael blushed with embarrassment. "I just…"

"We jest…" Morrigan waved him off. "Worry not, if we were offended by such words once, we are no longer. Far too long in the tooth are we," she glanced at Bradb knowingly. 

"What game do you play?" Azrael asked, desperately trying to change the subject and regain some semblance of respect from these beautiful women. They had marked him a gentleman to begin with and he wanted to regain that status. He looked down at the board inviting comment. 

It had a number of stone carved spiders and numerous stone carved Greek soldiers. 

"It is a game of strategy, similar to your game of Zatrikion," Bradb replied, referring to Greek chess, which Azrael was indeed familiar with. 

He examined the pieces, they were intricate in detail. 

"Interesting. Who is winning this game?" He enquired. 

Bradb crossed her arms. 

"I would say it's a draw at the moment," Morrigan replied, leaning forwards. Her armour creaking slightly. "The soldiers and spiders alike have taken losses, more losses from the soldiers so far,"

Azrael couldn't help but look at her glorious cleavage that was on display. He tried to avert his eyes. 

"Who's is the next move?" Azrael asked. 

There was a shrill cry that made him jump in his seat. It came from the direction of the temple he had just walked through. 

He noticed the women hadn't jumped at all. 

"What is that?" He asked wide eyed. It was an unnatural call. He had heard it in the woodland earlier. 

Bradb's eyes lit up. 

"My pets are back," she clapped her hands together in glee and jumped up from her chair. 

Her gown billowed around her as she rushed out of the doorway. 

"She's very attached to her pets," Morrigan declared. "Come on, let's have a looksee," she sighed and stood up. 

Azrael followed her as she led him out of the room and back into the stone corridor. 

Her armour creaked as she walked, he followed her out to the raised area with the altar. 

Azrael beheld a terrifying sight. The temple was full of giant hairy spiders. He stumbled in shock. 

"Monsters!" He cried out, withdrawing his sword from its scabbard he took several quick steps to bring him ahead of Morrigan. 

"Back ladies, I shall defend your withdrawal!" He instructed. 

Then he stood dumbfounded, when he saw Bradb caressing the hairy face of one of the spiders. She was cooing to it as if it were a babe. 

"What is wrong with her?" He asked Morrigan in confusion. 

"I said, she is very attached to her pets," Morrigan shrugged. 

"These monstrosities?" He exclaimed in shock. 

"How dare you, they are my precious darling pets," Bradb stroked one of the spiders. "Release them my darlings," she instructed the spiders. 

There was a clicking of mandibles as the spiders lowered themselves and each of them dropped a large form to the ground. 

Azrael watched in horror and saw that each of the lumps on the floor were his comrades in arms. Twenty captured soldiers. 

"What is this wickedness?" Azrael leapt forwards to strike with his sword. He didn't understand what was happening, but Morrigan held a hand up to him. 

"Leave us, my pets," Bradb instructed. The giant spiders clicked and squeaked, clacked their mandibles and then they started to scuttle out of the cave. It was such a loud and skin crawling sound, as a multitude of giant spider’s legs moved at the same time, clicking along the stone floor. 

After the last spider was gone the temple was quieter. There were some groans from the soldiers on the floor. Azrael was taken aback in wonder at the power of this woman to command such fearsome giant creatures. 

"Let me tend to them," Azrael requested as some of the men stirred. 

"Mazévo!" Bradb called out towards the first group of men. 

Shrink? Azrael thought in confusion. Why did she just say 'shrink'?

Then he realised in horror what was happening. Several of the men were literally shrinking in size, out of their tunics and armour. 

"What is this wickedness and sorcery?" Azrael cried out, he was confused. He didn't want to strike at these beautiful women but he had known deep down when he first saw them that there was something wrong. Now it was staring him in the face. 

He raised his sword to behead Bradb. He was within striking range. 

"Azrael of Thoricus," Morrigan's smooth and calm voice called out from behind him. "You asked where the legendary Medusa is?" 

He spun round. 

Morrigan was radiant and beautiful, her golden eyes suddenly blazed bright white with light. 

"Here we are," she spoke with a powerful voice. Azrael lifted his hand to his eyes to shield himself from the bright light. 

Then he felt strange. 

His helm felt heavy and uneven on his head. 

It slipped across his brow and blocked his vision somewhat. He frowned and staggered back, feeling his skin crawling. 

His armour started to feel heavy on his shoulders, but it also felt loose at the same time. It was a flexible armour but normally well fitted to his own body, to prevent anything like branches catching on him; when he was scouting in darkness and across rugged terrain. Now it felt distinctly baggy. 

He looked down at his body, he seemed shorter than before. Oh no! He was shrinking like his comrades. 

He heard Bradb chanting "Mazévo, Mazévo, Mazévo," in the background 'shrink, shrink, shrink,' as she paced around the fallen soldiers. 

Azrael watched in horror as, one by one, they started to shrink down. There were moans and shouts from the dazed soldiers as they were unable to resist the witches magic. 

"Stop this wickedness!" Azrael cried out at Morrigan. "Why are you doing this?" 

"It is our right, we are demi-gods, you are but mere mortal men," Morrigan looked down upon Azrael with a look of indifference. "Now you will learn worship my feet tiny man."

Azrael's head was about waist height up to Morrigan now, he looked upwards, across her leather and metal plate armour chest, her large bust of breasts bulging out above and her beautiful milky white face and cascading blonde hair, almost a bright golden colour. 

Her eyes glowed an eerie golden colour which seemed to pour into his very soul. 

"Are you goddesses?" He asked upwards in wonder. 

"Yes," Morrigan lied. They were no goddesses, she knew it. But the gods and goddesses had not been seen for centuries. They must have abandoned humankind and left some of their special elements behind. The magical weave. 

Someone had to fill the void left by the gods. Humankind needed to be led and ruled. They needed to be tamed. They were ravenous cattle that, if left unchecked, would ravage this planet. 

That was Bradb and Morrigan's theory. That was one of the areas where they had diverged from Sovereign, Embermesrelda, Aqualisha, and the rest of the other High Witches in their beliefs. 

"Goddesses…" Azrael stared in wonder. He suddenly felt an aura of calm overcome him as he stared upwards into the golden pools of Morrigan's eyes.  

Azrael became unaware of the fact that his tunic and armour had dropped away from his body and he stood naked, looking up at the giant goddess in awe. 

"You are not as repulsive as your kind usually is," Morrigan stated. "Perhaps I will keep you as my special pet…"

"I would like that," Azrael murmured, as if hypnotised, unable to break his stare from her golden eyes. 

*

A number of the other soldiers in that temple didn't feel the same way. 

Bradb had shrunken the majority of them and was collecting them in a hessian sack she had tied to the belt of her gown. 

However a few of them near the end had stirred and were much more alert as the temporary paralysing spider venom wore off them. 

Bradb locked her eyes onto one of the soldiers who decided to get up and flee. He was tiny and naked. He was only about three or four inches tall. She could vary their height how she saw fit, but she did enjoy a chase. 

It had been so long since she had enjoyed a good chase with a tiny human. However, she didn't want any of them to escape her clutches and there was a distinct risk of that; because in the corner of her eye she saw a few others running in different directions. 

That brought a sense of urgency. 

She stomped forwards with her sandals. The rock floor vibrated below the naked running soldier, but he kept running as fast as he could. 

Something huge suddenly slammed down in front of him, blocking his path. 

He stumbled into the giant sandal sole and dark skinned foot of the giantess. It was utterly huge. It was an wall that he would need to climb or evade. 

As he turned to look upwards her giant dark hand reached down towards him. Huge long nailed and elegant fingers reached outwards like a huge claw and he was smothered inside her hand. 

He was lifted upwards at a terrifying rate of ascent and then he was falling inside the darkness of the hessian sack at her belt. 

He landed on the squirming bodies of his comrades. 

They were all naked and the sack smelled of male sweat and fear. 

Bradb pursued the next tiny, she crawled on all fours after the running tiny man and reached out with her hand, grabbing him in her fist and stuffing the shouting little whelp into her sack. 

Still on all fours she swung her head round, looking towards the direction of the last tiny running man. 

She saw him round the side of a stone column and disappear. 

Her mouth curled into a slow and crafty smile. He thought he had escaped her. Perhaps he was stupid enough to hide behind the column. 

Her long dark hair dangled from her head. It was adorned with a series of golden and ivory beads. Something gifted to her many decades ago by a village. Before she had eliminated its population. 

He lips glistened and her eyes burned with excitement. 

She could locate the man by feeling his fear, she could even peer into his mind at this distance, if she so wished. But she was enjoying playing and that would be cheating. It would be too easy. 

She stood up and crept round the other side of the column, opposite the direction he had been travelling. 

As she rounded the corner of the column she spotted him. 

Predictably he was trying to hide, pressing his bare back against the column and trying to make himself as small as possible. 

To be fair to him there wasn't really anywhere he could hide here. 

She stamped her foot down hard in front of him, causing a small shock wave to hit him. 

The tiny man jumped in shock at the sudden loud sound and the giant foot appearing in front of him. 

He turned round and fled. 

Bradb grinned and ran back round the column the other way. 

She dropped to the ground, slamming her hands palms down on the stone floor, creating a loud slapping sound. 

The tiny man stopped dead in his tracks, looking up in terror to see the giant beautiful face, pearlescent teeth glimmering as she had a wide beaming smile on her face. 

Her buttocks were higher in the air, she looked like a predatory cat; about to pounce on him.  

He froze in fear at how huge she was. Her face, shoulders and breasts filled the whole of his field of vision. 

He turned and fled in the other direction. 

*

Bradb – in Gorham's Cave

The dark-skinned giantess Bradb was lying chest facing down towards the floor. 

Her cleavage was enormous, each breast was several times larger than the tiny soldier. 

Her hands were pressed flat, palms down, on the stone floor. 

Her eyes were piercing and focusing directly on the tiny man. 

He started to back away, eyes darting in all directions, looking for an escape plan. 

"Don't bother, little man," the giantess boomed towards him. 

She crawled, still prone along the floor, towards him. Her breasts dragged along the stone floor as she approached him. 

He turned to run but found a giant wall of skin slam down in front of him, her giant hands were blocking his path. 

"You're mine now, little man, come and join our little toy collection," the tiny soldier helplessly watched her enormous fingers approaching him and wrapping around his body as he was captured. 

Bradb and Morrigan – in Gorham's Cave

"Shall we resume our game?" Morrigan said to Bradb. "My stocks have been refreshed," she grinned as she looked down at the playing board. 

She had twenty-one tiny men as soldiers on their game board. 

The giantesses also had their Viewing Pool next to them. It was a large barrel which had been cut in half, and therefore a fully open top, it was full of water. 

The Viewing Pool allowed them to see through the eyes of Bradb's beasts, and pets, which were littered across the island. 

When the two witches settled here… or indeed had been exiled here… using Bradb's special powers, they had turned the island's wildlife to do their own bidding. 

They had also used their powers to grow many of these creatures in size, to create terrifying sized creatures; but also acting as their loyal security guards. 

It would take a professional army quite some doing to make it up to their caves. Nevertheless, they kept to themselves on this island and only dealt with intruders. 

They occasionally encouraged vessels that strayed too near the island to land and investigate strange signals that they released from the island, but that was just to acquire some mortal human play toys when they grew bored. 

The recent intrusion had caused some concern, these troops; whilst clearly mercenaries, seemed to be very organised, well-armed and professional. They were also rather large in number, they appeared to have at least 100 soldiers initially, the giant spiders had thinned those numbers both killing and capturing many of them in a single night.

The witches watched through the Viewing Pool as the troop retreated onto the boats in the night after the skirmish. They had hoped that these troops would withdraw for good.

*

Perseus – on the flagship ‘Andromeda’

It was a disturbed night back on the flotilla. Some men mourned their deceased comrades in arms, others were screaming in pain through the night from the various injuries; as they were tended to with what limited facilities and expertise, they had available.   

The rest of them didn't sleep much at all, they were plagued by images of those terrifying giant spiders. They couldn't shake the image of the multitude of them creeping towards their defensive line. 

The rumours did spread, however, that Azrael was alive and had reached the hilltop caves. There was hope indeed amongst them, despite their bitter and brutal defeat and withdrawal from the giant spiders. 

In the flagship captain's cabin Perseus, the flotilla Captains, Sergeant and corporals all hotly debated the next steps. Perseus had managed to dispel outright retreat from their minds. 

"I'm up for going round to the desert side of the island," the Sergeant and Corporals all stated. 

"That side be covered with needle like rocks, it could cause havoc to our ships," the flagship Captain argued. 

"Then drop our boats off further out, and park your fancy vessels away from them rocks," the Sergeant responded. "I'll wade in if I have to," 

"The landing craft will get pulled by the current, out that far you could be dragged out to sea, and if you survive that you will be sundered against them rocks," another captain stated. 

There was silence for a moment as they all considered their options. They were also waiting for the expedition leader to say something. Perseus hadn't spoken for a goodly few minutes.  

"We're not going back through that wood," Perseus stated with crossed arms, his leather bracers squeaking as they stretched across his chest. 

"Not without burning the whole fecking place down, no, I ain't taking my troop through that meat grinder again," the Sergeant cut in firmly. "Them giant hairy spiders are a menace and that be a true statement, the Gods know what sick and twisted magic caused them things to be summoned here. But it ain't natural, I tells ye that," 

"Them things be straight from Tartarus, put money on it, I would," one of the Corporals claimed, referencing their Greek name for hell. 

"What if we use the landing boats to guide the ships in through the rocks?" Perseus wondered, trying to distract them from pontificating about the origins of the giant creatures. 

"What, you think we can row them heavy ships in? Did that spider's hairy arsehole knock you too hard on the head, or something, laddie?" The Sergeant growled. 

"No, bear with me a moment, the captains said they can't visibly guide the ships through the needle rocks, and the small boats could get carried away, but what if we lashed the small row boats to the ships and used them with spotters to guide us in, we could go on one by one," there was a pause of silence as everyone considered the idea. 

They looked at each other, in disbelief to start with, but as more faces looked convinced the tables turned on the idea. 

"Ye know that ain't a half bad idea there, lad," the flotilla Captain stated with a firm nod. "I like where yer thinking is going, that's given me an idea that I think could work; with a little bit more planning." 

Perseus and the troop

The next day they sailed round the coastline of the island, carefully skirting around any rock out cropping. The island was like a natural fortification, Perseus concluded. 

The salty sea wind whipped at his face, where he stood at the bow of the flagship. 

He had heard the mutterings of the troops. The word was spreading that this was a cursed expedition. Hell demons from Tartarus had been summoned, according to many. He had asked the Sergeant to rouse them all with a speech and remind them that they were all working for coin. 

They waited for the day there until very early the next morning. 

The flotilla captain had hatched a great plan, when they reached the other side of the island. 

They sent their sleekest sailing ship, a scout cutter, through the rocks, with very few crew on it, so it was as light and manoeuvrable as possible; with rowing boats lashed to it to guide it through. 

Then they double anchored the ship. It was tied to the flagship with long lengths of rope, some marks long in length, and then the rest of the troop used the rope to guide them along and they rowed hard against the current to reach the other ship, through the rocky assault course. 

As the growing troop reached the shore, they set up their defences and a camp. 

The flagship was rotated round as much as possible and the catapult was being readied. 

They had landed first thing in the morning; they weren't getting caught out again at night in the dark.  

Two medium sized ballistae were transported across to shore, with some effort, and positioned at their camp on land. 

They had also picked a number of the most able seamen and added them to the camp strength to help defend it; and refill their numbers. 

One of whom joining their ranks was a very big and burly fellow seaman called Tarin, he hefted a great war hammer; where he got it from nobody knew, but it was vast in size. It had a long handle and would require a two handed swing to be effective.

They joked that he used it to crack nuts, but he said it was good for cracking heads to pulp and they all soon settled down and left him to it. 

Once they were settled, they surveyed their surroundings. 

The sand stretched for a good few thousand marks, slap bang in the middle of the desert there was some kind of ruined temple, beyond that the land stepped up with a rocky scree, the woodland on one side and the hilly terrain up to the caves on the other. 

Perseus shivered when he looked at the woodland. It looked so peaceful, serene and picturesque from here but something was definitely wrong about the place. 

A low mist hung across the woodland; it was as if evil had taken hold there. 

"It'll take a good portion of the day to get to that temple," the Sergeant pointed, ignoring the misty and evil woodland "but it's a good place for camp and cover," 

"Hope there be no more spiders out there," one of the Corporal's stated. 

"You and me both," the Sergeant grimaced then visibly shivered. "Give me seasoned Greek warriors as an enemy any day of the week," he added. "It's going to be hot going, but I don't much fancy the dark right now," he concluded. "If we have to fight them again, I like the idea of seeing them giant fuckers before they try and pounce on us," 

They all nodded in agreement. 

"Hopefully they don't come out in the daylight," Perseus stated. 

The camp defences were readied and then the majority of the troop set off, with the camp defenders set in place, a score of bowmen, spearmen and armed seamen, plus the ballistae and the cover of the flagship catapult. 

Perseus and the troop

The sun beat down on the troop as they set off on the expedition for their second attempt. The sun was fiercely strong, it reddened their skin, so they had to cover with any fabric they could, as they trudged through the thick sand towards the temple. 

A heat miasma caused a trembling blur on the horizon ahead of them, where the temple stood, sometimes making it appear closer than it was. 

Their camp was a distant feature, and the flotilla of ships were tiny triangles, little specs on the horizon. 

They eventually reached it at midday. The temple comprised of circular stone columns, which had evidently been subject to some severe weathering, supporting a semi collapsed structure in the centre. It may have had consisted of quite a bit of timber as part of the building construction, at some time, but the timber had long collapsed and rotted away; leaving only the stone. 

It looked quite ancient but yet advanced in design and construction; considering its evident age. 

The men collapsed against the rocks on the outside of the temple, skirting round and found some shade, thirstily draining their leather water pouches. 

"Right, let's have a looksee around this temple and see what it's all about," the Sergeant dropped his pack and bedroll near one of his troopers, patted him on the head and wandered inside. 

Perseus joined him and noticed that the Sergeant's hand rarely strayed far from the hilt of his sword. 

"Keep your sparkly fancy shield up laddie, it don't look lived in here, but we don't want this Medusa bitch pouncing on us. I'd never live it down with the lads, having my trousers pulled down by a lass; and having my ass spanked."

Perseus chuckled and hoisted his special mirrored shield up; the one that the Graeae witches had reluctantly bestowed upon him. He also wore his magical imbued chainmail vest. He drew his short sword and kept it horizontal and ready at his side. 

The two of them stepped through the stone columns, under a buttress feature and then into the central area of the temple. Their footsteps echoed around the stone walls and columns. 

"Not a great sign," the Sergeant muttered, his voice echoed around the chamber, he nodded his head towards a cluster of human skeletons. The skeletons were all huddled together, many of their backs leaning against the far stone wall; as if they had been sitting against it together when they expired. They were still wearing what was left of their armour; which was torn to shreds. 

Some of the skeletons had limbs missing, or cracked bones, evidently cracked through force not weathering or age.  

Perseus looked anxiously about the temple, peeking around columns and looking upwards, half expecting a giant man-eating arachnid to be hanging above them; ready to pounce. 

Nothing but sand and dust surrounded them. 

They searched the place and then crouched to examine the skeletons. 

"This weren't from them spiders," the Sergeant grimaced, he picked up a severed bone and analysed it, turning it over and looking at the sharp snapped end. "Look at that break there, clean as you like, something big has snapped them bones," he felt it with his fingertips.

"Jaws of some animal?" Perseus asked in bemusement.

"Maybe," the Sergeant looked around for other signs. "Whatever it was these poor folk huddled here together, mayhap waiting for it to clear off, they died here, with the wounded; together. There are at least twenty skeletons here, not badly armed. Persians by the looks of it," 

"A rotten way to go, it must have been quite a terrifying foe to cause them to huddle to death like this," 

"Aye, lad, aye. But don't ye worry yerself, ye won't see none of my men dying like this, all cooped up like a bunch of chickens, every one of us would rather go down swinging, be it against man, beast; or whatever fucking mischief is on this cursed island." 

A shout from outside caused them to spring bolt upright. Then there was a raucous noise and commotion. The sound of the men calling to arms. A drum was being beaten loudly by their troops. 

"Out, let's go, I think we're about to find out what beasty it was, that did this, lad."

They darted through the network of columns and came upon a terrifying sight. 

One of the troopers had gone for a piss in the sand and a giant carapace had appeared, emerging from the sand near the temple. Sand continued to pour off, like water, around the giant creature as more and more of it lifted out of the sand. 

The soldier had struck at it with his sword, which had just ricocheted off the exoskeleton without a scrape of damage. 

A giant clawed pincer appeared out of the sand, spraying sand in all directions. It lunged out at the soldier. Before the other troopers could reach him, the giant pincer claws had snapped the poor soldier clean into two pieces. 

His body collapsed in a lifeless heap, his blood soaking into the sand. 

The rest of the beast appeared from the sand, brandishing a deadly looking curved tail with a large sharp looking stinger at the end of the tail. It displayed large, claw like legs and two dark beady eyes. 

"Giant scorpion!" A soldier blared in disbelief. 

Arrows were already let loose but they bounced and rattled off the hard carapace of the scorpion. It was even more heavily armoured than the spiders had been. 

Its two dark beady eyes turned upon the approaching and wary troop of soldiers. Long crab-like legs appeared from the sand and the scorpion lunged forwards. It was longer than the spiders had been and was a truly menacing and fearsome sight. 

It was a sandy colour, nearly matching its environment. The cursed beast had been lying hidden and camouflaged in the sand, waiting to ambush its prey. 

"Call in fire from the ship," Sergeant wailed at his master bowman. He knew it was a long shot for the flagship at this range. They were likely on their own. 

A flare went up into the air, possibly lost in the light of the midday sun. The warning horn was blown long and heavy, a deep rumbling sound. The camp at the beach would hopefully hear that at least and pass the message on. 

A reply came from the camp, a long low horn was blown. 

"Shield wall, steady now, spears at the ready, split into squads, surround the beast on all sides," 

The scorpion attacked the front of their line, it was faster and steadier than the spiders had been, unimpeded by trees or fire. 

"Hold steady!" The Sergeant blared. 

The scorpion slammed into the shield wall, sending one trooper flying away. They managed to dig their heels in and slow it down, squads of troops jogged to the sides of the giant scorpion and lunged with spears. The troops moved as one, disciplined in battle they were, searching for weak spots above its legs. 

The armoured carapace of the scorpion deflected most of the spear tips. A few were even snapped. 

It swung left and right with its pincers and released a shrill cry. Then it lunged forwards and snapped with its pincers. Without any effort it grabbed at legs below the shields and lifted up two troopers, one in each pincer, and sliced them apart. 

Their bodies dropped lifelessly to the sand; geysers of blood squirted from their bodies. 

The soldiers lowered their shields to protect their legs. 

The stinger tail attacked from the top, it lunged downwards and struck at a man's face, catching him below his helmet, the pincer smashed through his face; killing him instantly. 

The tail darted back and lunged into the chest of another soldier, causing his face to go bright red and swell up; blood rushed from his mouth as he fell to his knees; poisoned to death he collapsed to the ground.  

"Seamen," Sergeant called to the select few seamen who had joined them, "hoist some rope around that blasted stinger tail and pull it back. I want that fucking tail out of striking distance from my men!"

The seamen had brought a huge amount of rope and rigging with them, in case they needed to climb or scramble up anything to get to the caves. 

They hopped straight to it, sprinting around the giant scorpion, giving it a wide birth. 

It seemed distracted by the mass of soldiers surrounding it. 

The stinger struck out again, this time a burly soldier managed to raise his shield in time. There was a bang from the impact and the stinger ricocheted away, the burly soldier stumbled back, roaring in pain from his arm being hammered from holding the shield against such an impact; but he soon returned to the shield line.

The seamen flung several grappling hooks around the tail and two lines of them pulled back on the tail. They grunted and cried out as they heaved with all of their might. 

The scorpion squealed in shock and tried to pivot round to free its tail, but harpoons were thrown over the hard shell and tangled in its legs on the other side. 

Then the soldiers used the ropes to yank at it from either side, pinning it down. 

The spearmen jammed spears into soft spots where the legs joined under the shell, causing a shriek from the scorpion. 

It lunged out with its pincer claws and struck out at shields, grabbed hold of and snapped spears in half and caught the occasional unlucky limb and sliced it from a body, causing a gush of blood and screaming. 

Tarin waded through the shield wall, hefting his mighty war hammer, and strode straight at the head of the scorpion. 

He wore no armour or protection. Brave or stupid, he was a brutish sized man; albeit the giant scorpion dwarfed the muscular fellow. 

The mouth parts of the scorpion snapped towards him, the rest of the troop spotted the possibility that the war hammer might do some real harm, and they closed forwards with their shields to deflect the pincer arms and mouth from Tarin. 

Without a word he swung the mighty hammer up in an arcing swing and down straight into the head of the scorpion, straight on top of the two eyes. 

The hammer made a bone crunching sound as it made impact, like cracking a nut with a hammer. The head caved in, the eyes were crushed to a pulp. 

The scorpion collapsed forwards momentarily, screeching in agony. 

It's stinger tail flailed wildly, swinging seamen left and right, causing them to shriek in surprise. The pincer claws snapped angrily, but the soldiers closed upon it, driving their spears in, and Tarin lifted the hammer and swung down again. 

This time he found meat, the hammer crunched through the cracked shell and resulted in collapsing through the mushy insides of the scorpion, killing it dead. 

The scorpion collapsed, its legs and tail still twitching. 

"Told you, it cracks heads to a pulp," Tarin growled as he looked, straight faced, back at the gawking troops; hefting his mighty war hammer over his shoulder. 

*

Bradb and Morrigan – in Gorham's Cave

The next day Bradb and Morrigan watched, through the eyes of one of Bradb's Sea Eagles, as the small flotilla of ships had skirted around the island and weighed anchor on the other side of the island. 

They had initially discussed the utter stupidity of this action by these mortal men, but then realised their plan to land on the shore was quite ingenious and organised. 

It had forced Bradb to deploy some of her oldest pets. She was very fond of the scorpions; they were fiercely loyal and… quite fierce as well. 

They recalled a small skirmish many years back, a squad of Persian pirates had landed here seeking to hide some treasure. The scorpions had torn them to shreds and forced the survivors to huddle in the ancient temple until they perished one by one. 

Never had Bradb expected one of her darling scorpions to be the victim of a brutally ruthless attack by a War hammer. 

"A hammer… a hammer of all things, such an insult," Bradb screamed out in spitting anger. "That fool of a thug has killed my wonderful Thurlous," she referred to the scorpion. She watched its defeated and collapsed body lying in the sand as the soldiers turned to their new foes. 

"Let me crush them," Bradb reached out towards the tiny naked men on Morrigan's side of the board. 

Morrigan swiftly slapped her hand away.

"No, rules are rules. You need to take one of your scorpions off the board," Morrigan stated bluntly. 

The tiny naked men looked up in fear, then looked across at Bradb. They couldn't understand this barbaric game these giant witches were playing. 

"Fine," Bradb reluctantly picked up the front scorpion piece from the board, and gently set it aside, then she pushed two more scorpions towards the troop of tiny men. 

"But, rules are rules, I get to take off the soldiers lost, well one soldier for every two lost. I believe that is our agreement," Morrigan nodded reluctantly. 

Bradb beamed in victory. 

She glanced down towards their Viewing Pool and counted the magically transmitted image floating in the pool. They had an aerial view of the battle from her Eagle's eyes, it took more effort for her to project the image than it did for her to contain it within her own vision.

"One, two…" she counted the fallen dead bodies. "Twelve," she beamed. "Twelve men. That means," she rubbed her hands together in front of her as she looked down towards the board with tiny men. "That I get to take six of you lucky things off the board," she smiled at them with a devilish and wicked looking smile. 

It struck terror in their hearts as her giant hands reached down towards the lead soldiers at the front line of attack on the board. 

"Muuahhahaha," she laughed wickedly, as she grabbed hold of six tiny naked men. 

They struggled and tried to escape but it was to no avail. 

"It's been a long-time sister," Bradb looked towards Morrigan who nodded hungrily. They were soaking up the men's fear in their Life Force Well, topping their strength and power up. 

Bradb looked down at the terrified squirming contents in each of her hands. She looked so eager, almost feverish, to shovel them inside her mouth. But she knew this feeling. She had become accustomed to that yearning hunger over the many, many years that they had existed. 

She knew that if she just shoved them in her mouth and ate them all that they would be gone. She knew she should savour her little treats. 

"Would you like one sister?" She asked Morrigan, who nodded very abruptly, a dribble of saliva eagerly escaped her beautiful lips and trickled down to her chin. 

Morrigan leaned forwards and plucked one of the tiny men out from Bradb's fingers. She held the tiny dangling man in front of her face and examined him. 

"Hmm, it's been too long indeed," she said and then gave him a long lick with her tongue. 

The man cried out in terror, being licked by a hungry giantess was a truly terrifying prospect. It surely meant that they were planning to eat these snack sized men. 

Bradb held one of her hands up to her face and also examined the contents. The other hand she lowered down to her waist. 

She lifted her gown and dropped three of the tiny men down between her legs. 

The three soldiers landed on the cushion of the giant chair, where they had been dropped. 

They all crouched as they landed to pad their falls, and they looked ahead of where they were. 

They realised that they were surrounded by huge walls of dark skin, the huge thighs of the giantess Bradb. 

"Oh, dear gods," one soldier exclaimed. "We are betwixt her giant thighs,"

"Look, it's her giant cock trap!" Another of the soldiers pointed towards the huge, dark and hairy vagina which was like a cliff face at the end of the thighs. It was dim of light in the place they were in but it was clear enough to see. 

"What does she expect of us?" The third soldier blurted out, astounded at the sight of her enormous sexual organ. "Does she mean to sit on us, or to fuck us?" 

"I think we'll find out, quick run!" The first soldier shouted as the giant fingers returned from above and the huge fingertips pressed against them, pushing all three of them towards the giant vagina. 

"Push against them, come on lads!" They tried to dig their heels in, pressing themselves against the fingertips, trying to push them back, as if they were still in their shield wall. 

It was hopeless, the giant fingertips were powerful and relentless in their purpose. 

The tiny soldiers were pressed towards the pussy without any delay. When they got closer the fingertips did stop pushing for a moment. 

They looked up to see the enormous, beautiful, dark face of Bradb looking down upon them. 

She had a radiant glow to her face, her full and plump lips were glistening and… they could see tiny arms waving out from the mouth, and a human face. 

It was one of their own. 

"Dear gods!" They shouted. "She's shoved Hivvar into her mouth, she's gonna eat him up," they cried out. "Stop! Don't eat him, stop it, you she-devil. You witch!" The man was screaming and then with a loud slurping sound he started to disappear further inside Bradb's giant mouth. Her huge plump lips surrounded and subsumed him. 

The giant tongue emerged and curled around Hivvar's face and pushed against the top of his head, pressing him inside her mouth. 

The head disappeared, followed by the arms and hands. 

They watched in horror as she sucked on their tiny comrade. They could see her as she swilled him around her mouth, tossed him about and then… they saw a large bulge travelling down her throat. 

"Oh gods… she is a demon… she is from Tartarus, of that there is no doubt… this place is cursed…" the soldiers were all speaking in a stunned voice. 

"Hmm… he was tasty, a lovely and salty treat," Bradb smiled and rubbed her neck and stomach.

Then her giant eyes returned to look down upon them, her fingertips started to push them towards the giant vagina again. 

"Hmm, I've been looking forward to feeling some tiny squirming people inside me for a long time," the soldiers tried to resist her but she was just too powerful. Her fingertips pressed them closer and closer towards the dark giant vagina. 

They could see it glistening and wet in the torchlight flames flickering in the room. 

They could smell her pungent scent. They could tell that she was very turned on, she was ready to be penetrated. 

For a normal sized man this would be a moment of elation and inspiration. For their tiny forms it was truly terrifying, as they stared down her mammoth woman cave.