It’s Tuesday! Captain Claire Claymonte continues leading the charge against the Bandersnatch in today’s entry by… taking a bath? We’re so close to the end, you guys. Can you feel it?
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The Shape of Family
Part Fifteen – Bond
by Rick Cook Jr
The tension should have drained from Claire as she eased into the tub. Maggie waited on her hand and foot, scrubbing her back, washing her hair, cleaning her wounds. Claire wasn’t sure she loved this woman, but it was a near thing, and every minute that passed without Claire confronting her on what she knew of this sun cult, the cords of her neck strained. The ale in her stomach churned. She wanted to vomit. She held it in.
Maggie said, “I can just hardly believe it. A monster, and those poor twins. What’s the world coming to?”
Claire stiffened, the sweet scent of the soapy water cloying when usually she would lavish in it. Now she felt dirty letting Maggie touch her. She said nothing.
Maggie asked, “What will you do?”
Claire wiped tears from her eyes before Maggie could see them and cleared her throat, feigning a cough. “Give us a drink, will you?”
Maggie smiled and handed her the mug of ale from the windowsill. She knelt beside the tub, fingers playing with the soapy bubbles, and Claire did her best to ignore her while she drained the rest of the mug away.
“You’re right lucky this beast left you all alive. The merchants brought plenty tales of slaughter on their way into town today. What’s left of the Kingsguard… well, they’re doing what they can.”
“How many are left?” Claire asked. She had to ask it. For the twins.
“Half a dozen, maybe. Stalbridge isn’t safe with just a few soldiers.”
“The Hundred will protect,” Claire said, watching Maggie’s eyes.
They narrowed. “Only time you invoke them is in bed.”
“And what name would you call if you weren’t afraid of hanging?”
Maggie’s jaw dropped and she leapt to her feet. Claire came out of the tub in a rush of soapy water, barreling over the rim and knocking Maggie to the wall in her haste to escape. She made a tiny cry of pain and then fell silent as Claire’s hands wrapped around her throat, squeezed ever so slightly.
“Please, Claire,” Maggie begged, breath coming in short, ragged bursts. If the woman struggled even a little she would escape. Claire hadn’t the resolve to chase after her and the soapy water would prevent a good grip.
“Please, nothing, Mags. I thought you might be hiding something this morning, and I know Father Mason was. Do you know what no one’s told you yet?”
“I’m sorry, Claire. I’m sorry. My love, I’m so sorry.” Maggie’s legs buckled and she slid down the wall. Claire let her go, couldn’t bear to see her woman in such a state.
“I don’t need your sorrow, I need your honesty. The creature runs the cult. He was going to use it to manipulate people into giving him what he needs. If you know anything of this cult, tell me.”
Maggie curled into herself, sobbing. Claire reached out to her on instinct, to soothe her, and pulled her arm back. She reached for a towel instead, draped it over herself, and knelt in front of Maggie.
“What do you know?” she asked again.
Too much. Far too much. When she was done she curled into a ball and wept like a child after a beating.
Claire ran water over her body quickly, dried with the towel and dressed. She stepped over Maggie, who clutched at her trousers.
“Claire, it wasn’t doing any harm! You have to believe me.” Claire tore her leg free and crossed to the washroom door, hesitated with her hand on the latch. Maggie…
She turned back, knelt down to the woman. “I’m not angry with you, Maggie. Truly I’m not. But I have people to protect. Monsters to slay.” She smiled, cupping Maggie’s cheek in her palm. “I have to command my Wings. We can deal with us later.”
“Do you doubt my love?” Maggie asked, clutching at Claire’s hand on her cheek, holding it tight. Her skin was cold, not warm and inviting as Claire remembered it.
“I don’t doubt what I can see with my own two eyes. And you will still be mine after this is over.” She leaned in and lay her lips on Maggie’s, tasted the salt of tears. These were Claire’s tears.
When she released Maggie, the woman sighed heavily and her breath hitched as Claire let her go. “I need to speak with Father Mason.”
“I can come with you,” Maggie said, struggling to stand on weak legs.
“You will stay here, out of harm’s way. Pray to the Hundred or this sun god if it suits you. I’ll take whatever help I can get at this point.”
“Surely you aren’t leaving in the middle of the night?” she protested. “You’re injured, you haven’t slept. You need to eat and come up with a plan!”
Claire agreed with all those things, rubbed at eyes that suddenly remembered what exhaustion was. “I can sleep once the twins are free, once the beast is in the Hundred’s embrace.”
Maggie’s hands dropped to her sides. She nodded, defeated. She didn’t look at all like the woman Claire had flirted with for a year now. She’d aged in an hour more than she had the whole year. Claire wondered it of herself.
And yet it didn’t make her love Maggie any less. She was tricked, taken in by a creature of deep cunning. So had Claire and her Winged Riders in the tunnels of the bandersnatch’s den.
It wasn’t even a bandersnatch, she realized. Just a copy. A façade to strike fear into the hearts of travelers.
Well, bandersnatch or not, she had at least one weapon against it. Whatever was happening, it was on a timeline, otherwise the creature would not have been acting so brash. If they couldn’t kill him, at least they could separate him from his prey long enough to stymy his breeding. She hoped.
She left the inn, tying her wet hair into the bun she kept when going into combat, as Sergeant Hughes approached the innyard, pulling the bun from her own hair until she saw Claire prepared for a fight.
And she sighed, tying it into place once more. “We’re not done for the night, are we?”
Claire shook her head. “Afraid not, Sergeant. What did Father Mason have to say?”
“I couldn’t say, the man’s gone. So are a few Kingsguard and several townsfolk, by my estimation with the morning’s interrogations.”
Unfortunate. Claire grimaced. She didn’t absolutely need to speak with Mason but it would have been useful.
“Well, gather up everyone that can ride or hold a blade, Sergeant. Leave the Kingsguard behind, they could be compromised.”
“Ma’am?”
“I’ve got a lead on the creature’s whereabouts. A makeshift church in the bloody wood. We’re going to get our scouts back.”
“What about the horse-woman?” Hughes asked.
“If she doesn’t come, we all of us might as well slit our throats. Tie her to a saddle if you have to.”
Hughes saluted and left to gather who she could.
What Claire wouldn’t give for a full muster of Winged Riders just now. But this was it. Herself, a horse-whisperer of questionable loyalty, a skinchanger too weak to change her skin, an untested Sergeant, and half a dozen able Wings if she were lucky.
Against a creature that could heal a dagger wound, assume any shape. A feral, furious, desperate creature.
If they lived through this fight, she really would convert to the Hundred.
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Just two parts and an epilogue to go!
Panning For Clouds 