Baudelaire's

Baudelaire's: Part VII

     The road to Intense was a long one, as any road is when an army regiment is on the move.  Difficult to say what went through the minds of his men as they marched forward.  Claudia, as a Lt. Colonel had the privilege of being driven in a convoy of supplies.  So, his mind could wonder most of all.
      He tried to keep it off what might could happen to what was left of Capria.  There was nothing Gardarik could possibly want, other than revenge, and revenge meant mayhem. Mayhem meant more senseless death of innocent people.
      Claudia had already made his final good-bye to Cattleya Baudelaire.  They had remained on the couch, keeping the fire fed, enjoying each other's touch, and talking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the resting Freya.
      Claudia had personally never taken so much time just touching and kissing a woman's body that remained (almost) half-clad.  It had its own sense of slow burning sensuality that he knew would be with him throughout the remainder of his life.
His apologies to whomever would ultimately fill the role of Mrs. Claudia Hodgins. Cattleya Baudelaire would always be there somewhere in his mind, being beautiful, being young, being warm under his hands and mouth. Perhaps it would be best if he did not go near the ravaged city of Capria ever again. Ignorance was bliss. But there was his order from the Colonel. . .
Major Gilbert Baugainvillea was younger than Claudia by three years but they attended the same officer's training academy.  The boy quickly proved to be the epitome of a ranked military man, unlike the rather shaggy Claudia, who never intended to make a career of being a soldier, but ranked because of the Hodgins name.
Although their difference in demeanor, Claudia rather liked Gilbert, as sort of a much more stoic younger brother. He enjoyed 'racking his ribs' with playful jokes and even getting a true chuckle out of him every so often, but all that was during training. That was before the war had begun in earnest. Then he was given his 'Weapon' in the form of an mute orphan girl child. Damned Dietfried Baugainvillea. Narcissist bastard.
Colonel Felix Worschoski lived outside of Leiden on a huge estate, having part ownership of the tin and copper mines that had been taken by the Gardariks, but for the most part had been taken back. The colonel's family had the means to provide proper guardianship over Major Gilbert's orphan now that the war was ending. She needed a proper family and there was no shortage of children to act as siblings in the Worschoski family with two girls and three boys. The order might be best for the girl. However. . .
Claudia thought back to that beyond disturbing training session. The child had effectively disposed of 10 grown male prisoners. They were armed with blade weaponry but no sort of firearm. The child had nothing until she took two sabers from two quickly dead men and sliced through the others. It was all over in less than three minutes.
For a few seconds the room was completely silent. All Claudia could hear was the child's heavy breathing, until there was an agonizing groan from one of the men on the ground. The child's eyes had been on her audience searching from face to face. Looking for her master, thought Claudia. Upon hearing the groan she turned rather slowly to the not yet dead man a few yards away and walked over to him. He cowered and raised his hands to fend her off.  Without even pausing, she stabbed him through the rib cage. After a final shriek the man was silent like the rest of them.
She immediately turned back to her audience who were only then starting to talk lowly among themselves. Her giant blue eyes searched the faces again, until they came to rest and remain on one face alone. Claudia looked up behind him and saw Major Baugainvillea standing looking down at her stoically as usual, but rather pale. He gave the slightest of nods and the child visibly relaxed, dropped the sabers and walked out of the arena.
Claudia had looked over at his superior officer. Worschoski merely sat in amazement, speaking to nobody whereas all others were already getting up to leave. Claudia couldn't quite describe Worschoski's expression. Then he realized, it was as a drooling (aroused?) wolf ready to pounce.  It was, well, to say the least, unsettling.
Claudia wondered if it was against better judgment, taking her away from Major Baugainvillea, after all. The coup d'grace the child inflicted upon the dying prisoner pretty much said it all. The feral child had bonded to its master. Woe be unto anybody who kept her from him or his orders.
      Claudia had not seen Major Baugainvillea's battalion for quite some time, only where it had been.  And wherever Major Gilbert was, the weapon was there also, leaving a trail of dead soldiers in her wake. 
      By the time Claudia's regiment made it there, it would be just a few hours before Gilbert's troops were to move on toward the ultimate prize, the hilltop cathedral of Intense, the Gardarik headquarters and where the last of  the Gardarik ammunition supply was held. The beginning of the end. . .
              *.           *.         *
       "A hero's welcome to honored Leidenschaftlich guests to Baudelaire's!" shouted Cattleya, in fine form. "And welcome to our great city of Capria!" She held high a small glass of whiskey and began to sing as loud as she could, and still hold the tune, the anthem of her city.  Those soldiers who knew it (which was a great many of them) sang too. 
        Benedict Blue watched from where he tended bar. He was singing along, but was, as Cattleya had instructed him to do, keeping a close eye on everyone who came in.  He was willing to give up his time on stage as a burlesque performer to be a more effective watchdog. The stiletto heeled boots, however, remained on his feet.
It had been a riotous night so far, which was business as usual on the riverfront. But earlier, Cattleya had made her rounds to all the brothels, putting all the Madams on high alert. Warning all the girls to not venture out alone, no matter what time of day.
       She also raised the idea among them of gathering a garrison of anything and everything that could act as a weapon. Cattleya refused to be as unprepared as she, as well as the entire city, was four years ago. She was older now (20, just nearly 21) and far more wiser.  She knew when flattery could get you somewhere, and when one had no other choice but to use force.
      Cattleya kept to the stage tonight. There was to be no show this evening. This was a rally, a way to fire up the soldiers without their superiors who did not seem too interested of probable dangers.  Cattleya urged the brothels to do the same in their own way, so that all soldiers present would be heated up and poised for action if and when something should happen. How she wished Claudia Hodgins was still here with his regiment, to support her throughout but he was already three days out.
     Just before the clock struck the hour of midnight, there were sounds of gunfire, shouting, screaming and explosions far down the street.  The singing in Baudelaire's stopped cold, the crowd stunned. Cattleya Baudelaire and Benedict Blue caught each other's eye from across the tavern. 
    For a split instant the whole world stopped.  They were both here again, possibly facing death for what seemed like the thousandth time. 
     Benedict signaled to her with a slight nod, and came to her, grabbed her hand and they both slipped into the back of the dressing room.  The other girls, followed, looking ghostly pale.
      Benedict opened a heavy wooden trunk and armed himself with a saber, and a blade to tuck in his boot.  Cattleya took up her own weapons, and so did the others, although they shook from fright. 
       Cattleya turned to the huddled girls. "Get to my house as quickly as possible. Stay together."
        They all nodded. Gabriella began to cry.
       "No time for crying, Gabby!" Benedict growled, "It's time to survive again. Now GO!"
      Then they were left alone and the noise outside was getting louder and closer. 
      "We'll get through this." said Benedict, just as much to himself as to Cattleya.
        She grasped his hand. It was far bigger than it was the first time she grasped it, four long years ago.  He had been starving and had become sick, looking more of an 8 or 9 year-old instead of a 12 year-old boy when she had found him wandering the Caprian streets.
      Then Benedict caught her to him and embraced her with all of his being. "I've loved you always, and will never stop." he confessed.
     Cattleya stroked his hair. "I know, nor will I."
       She then kissed him sensuously full on the mouth, something she had never really ever thought to do before.  But she thought of it tonight, for this could be the last time she would have the chance to show her great appreciation.
        The kiss left Benedict breathless, flushed and possibly a bit overwhelmed, but then he cleared his throat and stepped away. 
       "Come on." he said, standing tall and thrusting out his chest in order to look bigger and braver. "Let's go."