19
The ship anchored off Roanoke Island in July. It was a low, narrow island lying between the treacherous Outer Banks and the mainland, but it was green with oaks and marshland and teeming with wildlife. The colonists unloaded their supplies and set about repairing a fort that had been abandoned by Raleigh’s men the previous year. Will and Church helped with the work for most of the day before scouring the island at twilight for any sign of Don Alanzo and the Army of the Ten Billion Spiders. They found nothing.
On 18 August, Eleanor Dare gave birth to a daughter she named Virginia after the land in which they had settled, and ten days later Simon Fernandes, the Portuguese pilot, departed for England. John White, who had grown anxious that the supplies they had brought were not enough, went with him to fetch more.
Despite the joy of the birth, the mood amongst some of the colonists had started to sour. Food was already running low, and cultivation of the surrounding area was not progressing as quickly as the colonists had hoped. They were also repeatedly being attacked by the Native American tribe that lived in the area, who had not forgotten the cruelty the English had meted out to them on their arrival in the New World.
And three nights after the ship had departed for England, the Army of the Ten Billion Spiders rose up.
20
It was twilight. Will and Church sat by the communal campfire watching the stars appear and the bats chasing the insects rising up from the marshland.
‘Maybe Don Alanzo just stopped here, checking out the lie of the land,’ Church said. ‘He could be on his way back to Spain-’
‘Don Alanzo is a man of purpose. If he were to charter a ship and sail across the ocean it would be for a great reason, not a mere dalliance,’ Will said. ‘The truth lies here somewhere. We have yet to find it.’
A cry rang out from one of the huts near the stockade. Church and Will grabbed their swords and ran. Eleanor Dare was tearing at her hair on the front step of her hut, limned by the lamplight from within. The door hung askew in its frame. ‘He took my baby!’ she cried.
Church pulled Eleanor to him to calm her. ‘Who took Virginia?’
She pointed towards the gate. ‘Tom Bowler. He took her out of the settlement.’ As Church turned to give pursuit, Eleanor caught his sleeve. ‘I fear the Devil has taken hold of him,’ she whispered, full of dread.
At the gate, Church and Will found the guard unconscious and the gate open. Will fetched a brand from the fire, but on his return Richard Cordell was already trying to force the gate shut. ‘You must wait till dawn,’ he said. ‘Go now and the savages will slit your throats in the dark.’
‘We can’t wait,’ Church said. He drew Llyrwyn, and Cordell recoiled when he saw the blue glow dappling the blade.
‘Sorcery,’ Cordell hissed.
Will threw him to one side and wrenched the gate open. Church followed him out into the night. Deep into the heart of the wilderness they ran, where the oak trees moved in the wind with threatening gestures. The paths through the thick vegetation were few and Will found regular footprints in the damp earth. Eventually they caught up with Tom Bowler, who was standing on the edge of a sticky expanse of marshland, looking around desperately. Virgina Dare was clutched to his chest, whimpering softly.
‘Tom,’ Will called softly, ‘release the child. Her mother calls for her.’
As Tom Bowler turned, Church saw in the flickering light of the brand what Eleanor Dare had meant: a black spider was embedded in the centre of his forehead. It appeared newly attached, for blood trickled down from the eight spiky legs. As the colonist’s eyes fell on Church and Will, a clarity came to them. ‘I am afflicted with a madness,’ he stuttered. ‘What ails me?’ He looked down at the baby as if seeing it for the first time. But when Church stepped in to take Virginia, the colonist clutched her even more tightly, his eyes crazed once more. Stay back,’ he said. With this gift I shall buy my future.’ He took a step backwards towards the sucking marshland.
Will held out an anxious hand. ‘Master Bowler! Your future lies this way.’
Church’s attention was drawn past the colonist to the expanse of marshland, the surface of which appeared to be moving in the light of the brand. At first Church thought it was marsh gas bubbling up from the depths, but it was too consistent and moving towards them in a direct manner.
Will caught sight of it, too, and then Tom Bowler whimpered and said, ‘They are coming again!’
Church seized the moment to grab Virginia. Off-balance, Bowler stumbled waist-deep into the marsh. He began to claw at his face and hair, howling like a madman.
‘He has lost his mind,’ Will said. ‘Let us back to camp-’
He paused mid-sentence as the moving shadow crossing the surface of the marsh reached Bowler and they could both see clearly what was causing it. Spiders, some as small as the one attached to Bowler’s head, others as large as dogs, were rising up from the depths and skimming across the surface of the marsh on scuttling legs. They surged towards Bowler, then over him, into his clothes, his hair, tumbling into his mouth, choking his screams with the multitude of their bodies.
As Church and Will spun around to race back to the fort, figures emerged from the trees to block their path. ‘Will Swyfte,’ Don Alanzo said with surprise and unconcealed glee. ‘Good sense, as always, escapes you. You have brought yourself to the end.’
The spiders were all around now, a lake of wriggling black as far as the eye could see.
21
Church and Will were herded back into the fort, where the colonists had been rounded up by a small army of Spaniards. Eleanor Dare cried with joy when she saw Church carrying Virginia. Don Alanzo moved his men to one side to allow her to reclaim her child tearfully. Her brief words of thanks to Church were drowned out by the cries of the colonists as the multitude of spiders swarmed through the gates and over the stockade to seethe on every available surface. At Salazar’s silent command, they came to rest.
‘You have thrown in your lot with the Devil!’ Will shouted furiously.
For a second his accusation appeared to strike a chord with Don Alanzo, but then the spider parasite on his neck reasserted its control and he smiled contemptuously. ‘You fear what you know is about to come to pass. England’s days are numbered. Philip will triumph over the despised Elizabeth, who will finally be forced to explain to her Maker why she turned away from God’s path. Even now our Armada prepares to sail-’
‘Look around you, lumpkin!’ Will shouted. ‘Since when did Spain ally itself with demons in the form of spiders?’
‘There’s no point, Will,’ Church said. ‘The spider controls his thoughts. I’m sure he thinks he’s being perfectly rational in carrying out the king’s business.’
‘If that is so, then why are we not all the mares of spiders?’
It was a question that had troubled Church since he realised Maxentius had fallen under the spiders’ control in their bid to take Rome and prevent Constantine’s succession to power.
The answer soon became apparent. One of the Spanish guards walked along the lines of colonists and selected a man who was on his knees, whining, and whom Church recalled had been one of the most prominent doomsayers about the declining supplies. The guards dragged him to the campfire and held him down. Salazar loomed over him and made a gesture in the air. Instantly one of the spiders scurried forward and climbed onto the man’s cheek, where it raised one metallic-looking leg at a time and thrust them into the man’s flesh. As the last leg went in, his screams subsided and he grew calm.