Born a Monster

369 269 – Back to the Girdle

There is little need to remember the storm itself. Captain Munfred was a professional, and the Fisherwoman’s Catch had four anchors. Madonna genuinely seemed to be distraught.

“I’m so close, husband. I’m so close. One more piece, and it’s right there. She’s right there and she’s exposed, and it just can’t end like this.”

“I don’t think we’re even close to sinking.” I said.

“They are gods. Do you understand that? They manipulate the weather; it’s just a tool to them. I don’t mind if it’s after, I really don’t. But not NOW. I just... I was made to do this, you understand?”

“I don’t understand,” I said, “but I accept.” I held her, stroked her hair. “I only agreed not to stand in your way. But would you like it if I were there to watch?”

“No. Husband, you are already too close. Stay away. These are gods. You, of all people, know how vengeful they are. They’ll probably kill you anyway, just for what you’ve done already.”

I chuckled. “Even the gods don’t know everything, don’t see everything. Otherwise, they would have already stopped you.”

“So many times we’ve just narrowly eluded death, you don’t think they’re trying?”

“If so, then equally strong forces are working to keep us alive.” I said.

.....

She sniffled. “You are young and naive.” she said. “After centuries, after forty years of my life, I’m so close. They have to know. They have to.”

And yet, when the storm passed, Captain Munfred had already weighed anchors, raised sail, and was back underway.

“You’re taking a rowboat in.” he said, as we approached the Girdle. “You’re rowing it yourselves, and we’ll be turning away as soon as your keel is in the water.”

“Thank you,” I said, “for carrying us this far.”

He looked at my extended hand as though it were a dead fish turned to rot. “Didn’t do any of this for you.”

“You have my thanks anyway.” I said.

“If I ever end up needing your thanks,” he said, “something has gone vastly wrong in the universe.”

He was true to his word, dropping us off well outside the normal port radius. Due to the winds, he had to take off to the south, with two Manoran cutters in pursuit. One of those cutters even made it back to the Girdle, tales of suddenly growing reefs that had broken the other. (They did save most of the crew, though.)

Being the edge of winter, all the rooms at the inns seemed to be taken.

“Husband.” Madonna said.

“Wife.”

“Didn’t you pay the Explorer’s Guild a large sum last year? Surely they have three rooms they can spare for a night.”

“Absolutely not.” the white haired butler said, when we asked him. “Sir shall have only two rooms, and must by needs share both with those of similar gender.”

I sighed. “That, sir, is more than equitable.”

“Sir should not try to speak as a Manoran, being clearly not one.”

Madonna nudged my elbow. “I should like to speak with my commissioned naturalist and the other matter, an inquiry about a belt.” I said.

“Sir can wait until after dinner?”

I nodded, but it was Kismet’s stomach that growled. “When is dinner?” she asked.

“In the commons room, within a candle of dusk.”

But we weren’t there that long, four hulking brutes of the Black Feather clan of Uruk arriving for us and our meager luggage.

“But we can’t go.” Madonna hissed at me. “We need my belt!”

“Do you mean to finish your quest tonight?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you?” she asked.

Fine. “We have business that will take us a few hours.” I said.

“Sir, the ambassador has made it clear that is not an option.” said Xerces, one of our escorts.

“The women can remain, and tend to business?” I asked.

He shrugged. “The ambassador has needs only for Gamilla. These two can stay here if they want.”

“Gamilla is no longer with us.” I said.

“Oh. Where is her grave? The ambassador will want to visit.”

“What?” I asked. “No, I mean she no longer travels with us. She has taken up service with the dragon.”

Xerces raised an eyebrow. “That’s something you can explain to the ambassador yourself.”

The ambassador, as it turned out, was a short man of hobgoblin lineage called Kastorlopos. Yes, the Kastorlopos who was Gamilla’s father. As in wife of the woman of ten thousand questions, Aelektra.

“You left my daughter within snacking range of a dragon?” she asked. It was the third variant of the question she’d asked that night.

“Not left.” I said, “Your daughter chose service with the dragon over all manner of other options, including returning home.”

“Our home is here, now.” she snapped. “And stop avoiding the questions.”

“In your daughter’s own words, as best I can recall them...” and I recited her litany of accusations, one after the other. Aelektra asked questions, calming as I explained each issue, taking credit for the parts that were mine, and reminding her I was a Truthspeaker when she tried to expand beyond that.

That took long enough for Kismet and Madonna to be escorted to us.

Or let me be clear, Kismet and some native girl I didn’t recognize at first. But she was wearing the rest of the panoply, and there were other subtle hints, such as when she said:

“I do hope you don’t intend to keep my husband too long, I have urgent business upslope, and was hoping he could join me.”

The guard leaned over, whispered into Kastorlopos’ ear.

“I thought you didn’t want me nearby when you completed your quest.” I said.

“A woman has the right to change her mind.” she proclaimed.

The ambassador cleared his throat. “You understand that diplomatic immunity has not been extended to you?”

She stroked the Ermine Cloak. “Why, whatever would I need that for?”

“Perhaps a matter of a belt, stolen from the Explorer’s Guild?”

“What? This tattered old thing? I only need it for tonight; they can have it back afterward.”

He looked out the window. “Very well, then. It’s too late for them to expect it tonight.” to his guard he said, “Let the Guild know that the lady Madonna will return their property tomorrow.”

The guard nodded.

“And you will provide me a full debrief of your activities? Especially to include some... colorful expense requests?”

“You mean the entire Red Axe Trading Company, and the Spiro loan.” I said.

“The ogre champion at the head of a small horde of things that have Tolliver in a mood.”

“He mentioned whether it was more proper to cut your hands off, and then your head, or the other way around.” Aelektra said.

“Ah. Another of THOSE discussions. I can’t say I’m looking forward to it, but yes. Let us begin those stories early tomorrow.”

“Come.” Madonna threaded her arm through mine.

I asked.

And then,

There was, left unsaid, that she didn’t want to be alone.

I said.

It seemed to me that the panoply had brought her Taint alive. No less than three times, I got a message similar to:

[Taint encountered, one point transferring. After Sin Armor, you have received 0 points of Taint.]

That zero points doesn’t mean none; just that the fractions were small, and easily redirected to my urinary tract. It might take days to dilute it and return it to the environment, but one thing the world did not lack was water.

I worried that we would reach the lifts after they were done for the night, but in spite of laws saying so, well dressed and mannered people still needed transport both up and down.

Madonna practically radiated fear; I’m sure I was radiating as well.

What the hell?

[You have successfully tapped this group of people for Fear mana; 1/1 Fear mana currently stored.]

I sighed in relief; Madonna squeezed my arm.

“You emotional wimp.” she said.

I shrugged. “There will be plenty of that once we reach the temple.”

“It’s only a large shrine.” she said. “It’s defended and blessed and ... look, it’s a shrine. They’d have built us bigger if we were meant to corrupt her in an actual temple.”

“I have a question.” I said. “The angel can’t have been here the entire time this plan has been in motion.”

“Okay, the panoply was put here for a different purpose entirely, but I’m using it now for this.”

“With the approval of your superiors?”

.....

“They’re the ones who told me where the panoply was hidden.” she said. “I know, helpful devils. You may fall over from the shock.”

“I doubt they had your best interests in mind. How safe is the panoply to use?”

“It’s safe for you so long as I’m the one using it.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. My quest, my risks. Unless you mean to breach our pact now?”

I sighed. “That’s it.”

She slapped my extended arm. “Don’t point; it’s rude.”

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