Chapter Eight: The Bandersnatch and the Hatpin (1)

[manniness]

 

The road Stayne and the Red Knights take is not one that Alice recognizes. In all her years of traveling between Mamoreal and Crims and then from Iplam to both destinations, Alice had never noticed this path at all. And as she navigates it now, she wonders if this is – quite possibly – the last time it is ever used. It is grown over in places, losing itself in the foliage of the forest and she has to struggle to not only keep up with the group ahead but to stay silent and remain out of sight. Despite the fact that following in the wake of your enemy is a very safe position to be in, it is only safe so long as that enemy has neither reason nor inclination to pause and look back.

Even though she burns to outflank them, to hurry ahead of them to make sure Tarrant, Mally, and Thackery have made it to Mamoreal already, Alice holds herself in check; she is very careful that both she and Uilleam do not give Stayne a reason to glance over his shoulder.

With her left hand, which is annoyingly numb, Alice gestures for Uilleam to stay close. Although the Red Queen’s bulldog isn’t looking for a blue dodo bird, she doesn’t doubt the man will threaten to snap Uilleam’s neck should he get his blood-stained and black-leather-gloved hands on him. For a moment, the pang of helplessness she feels as she thinks of these silly, lovable creatures at the mercy of such a monster overwhelms her quiet and persistent panic.

When this is all over, she decides, she will thank Uilleam for going into that house with her. His presence had grounded her with unexpected efficacy. Yes, she had missed Tarrant. Yes, she had ached to have her husband beside her and her son in her arms. Yes, it had taken every ounce of her strength not to sit down on that disgusting kitchen floor and weep at the thought of all that is left before her on this path the Fates had set her upon. But she had not dwelt upon those thoughts; Uilleam had been there, someone to protect, to guide, to shelter. Someone who will remember this day and all that had occurred.

I am not alone, she had thought, had believed. And it had helped. Tremendously.

The Dodo Bird’s very existence had focused her, had strengthened her, had readied her for any confrontation... Of course, she had not expected to confront Chessur.

I should have remembered, she chastises herself as she dashes on tiptoe to the next Tum Tum tree. Her memories of Underland from her childhood – back when it had been a Wonderland to her young mind – are still hazy and vague. She had recalled the Duchess with her large head and snarling frown and pointy chin when the Fates had mentioned pigs. She had remembered an angry cook and a pepper mill and a small, grubby house in the woods. Alice feels one corner of her mouth turn up in wry – if dark – amusement. Even as a little girl, she had tried to save Underland. One baby at a time. She had failed, of course, but she had been unable to not try.

Perhaps... it has always been her destiny to come back here, to pick up the sword, to fall in love, to fight.

The thought is as comforting as it is frightening.

I was destined to do this, she hears herself say, admit, acknowledge.

Does that mean that Chessur had been destined to be so utterly selfish he had not even warned the Hightopp clan of the Red Queen’s plans?

Oh, Chessur...

Suddenly, so much of the cat’s efforts on her behalf – and on Tarrant’s behalf – make a great deal more sense. There, in the kitchen, Alice had realized what her future friend must have known about the Red Queen. Had known... but had said nothing about.

“I never get involved in politics.”

What utter rot!

“Later, Alice,” she mouths to herself. Yes, later, when Tarrant is safe and the Oraculum delivered, perhaps she will have a chance to speak with Chessur about his unforgivable indifference.

Later.

Alice moves quietly, quickly along the path, ducking behind the groaning trees. She flinches as Stayne hacks away at branches in his path. She pities the trees, but there is nothing she can do for them now. Not with one numb hand and a left arm that is losing strength and resiliency by the hour. Not with a dodo bird to keep out of trouble and a trio of “lunatics” to save from Stayne’s volatile temper and underhanded interrogation methods. There is only so much one old woman can do!

At least I have the Oraculum, she consoles herself. But the comfort that thought provides is cold. Stayne is still between her and Tarrant, hacking at the trees as he goes, threatening any and all into doing his bidding...

Alice wishes she still had full control over her left hand. If she had, she would have fisted it. Little by little, the Death crawling up her heart line is rendering her useless and weak. She does not have much time left. And soon she will have to leave her future husband and her future friends to their fate here. She will have to let them go on and fight without her.

She grits her teeth, damns her limitations, and presses on... in silence.

Well, perhaps not in Silence. The sounds of the Knave’s steed’s stamping hooves, the swish and thwack! of the Knave’s long sword, the rattle-clank of the loping Red Knights fill the forest. Alice sounds and Uilleam sounds, however, do not.

And then another – a completely different – noise erupts in the forest, shattering the macabre march on the fading road. A noise that makes the hairs on Alice’s arm stand on end. A noise – a cry, a call, an animal scream – she would know anywhere.

“The Bandersnatch!” Stayne hisses. “You two, come with me. You four, continue on. Delay anyone and everyone you find between here and Mamoreal!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Uilleam,” Alice hisses softly despite the crash and clatter going on up ahead as Stayne’s black stallion and two card soldiers dive off of the road and into the brush, clamoring in the direction of the Bandersnatch’s affronted roar.

“Yes, Gray Lady?”

Alice debates for a short moment: would it be wiser to give the Oraculum to Uilleam and send him on? Or should she – a trained fighter – keep it despite knowing that the Knave is searching for her?

With a sigh, she says, “Hurry on, now. Try to get around the card soldiers without being seen and warn Hightopp and the others that the Red Knights are coming.”

“I—! Wait! You are leaving?” he squawks.

“Yes. But I will find you again soon! Now hurry!”

Alice turns and crashes into the brambles of the forest, heading in the direction of the Bandersnatch. No doubt the dodo would have demanded to know why she is abandoning him now, and, in all honesty, Alice can’t be sure even she knows the answer to that. But she feels it. There is some purpose that is pulling her toward the Bandersnatch. Something she must do. Something she must make Right...

Be safe, Tarrant, she prays, pressing her left wrist against her jerkin and the roll of parchment hidden beneath it.

She dives through the forest, no longer careful of the noise she makes, for the Bandersnatch makes much more. His roars are more than offended now. The tenor of his cries becomes enraged... and then desperate, pleading.

When she spots a flash of straining and struggling not-quite-white fur ahead, she slows, places her right hand on the pommel of her sword and creeps forward. What she sees through the tangle of wild berry bushes is not pleasant: the Bandersnatch struggles against the ropes and nets thrown over his heaving form. The Knave, obviously pleased with the work of the card soldiers, slides his sword into its scabbard. Even from this distance she can see a smirk on his face. A smirk and...

Wait. What...?

“No eye patch,” she mutters, staring at the man’s eyes. Two eyes. But then she shakes her head. That detail is unimportant. What is important right now is working itself into a panicked frenzy in the middle of the forest, clawing at branches, last year’s autumn debris, unfortunately located bushes and saplings, and anything else his claws can reach. Despite his efforts, however, those terrible claws cannot reach the moorings of the ropes binding him to the ground.

“Excellent work,” Stayne announces. “The queen will be very pleased.”

The Red Knights – looking rather battered, mud-splattered, and sporting a very noticeable number of twigs and mulched leaves in the chinks of their armor – stand up a bit straighter upon hearing the man’s praise. Although Alice suspects what they truly feel is relief.

“Thank you, sir,” Card Number One says.

“Now, tire the beast out and then bind his legs so that he can walk and not galumph. I’ve something to take care of and will return shortly.” Stayne directs his gaze to the pair of card soldiers that had followed him from the road. “You two stay and assist.”

“Um, but sir... what do you mean by tire the Bandersnatch?”

The Knave sneers, “You each have spears, don’t you? Use your imaginations.”

Alice’s hand curls around the pommel of her sword as the Knave showily turns his mount back to the forest and the road they had had just left. She glares after him briefly, not regretting one bit each and every scar she carries on her hands from the garrote she had used on the man’s neck.

You are dead, Ilosovich Stayne. Less than four years from now, you are DEAD.

It is a pity she cannot kill him now, cannot save Tarrant from being interrogated by this man, cannot stop the Red Queen from getting her hands on the Oraculum...

Still, despite those dark times yet to come...

There is hope. It all works out.

And, as soon as she gets this blasted scroll to Absolem, it all will work out.

Soon, Raven. You’ll be home soon and everything will be fine.

“Use our spears?” one of the dimmer card soldiers mutters aloud. “What d’you suppose that means?”

The Bandersnatch growls and rolls its eyes, huffing with exasperation. Alice snorts out a silent laugh. Yes, she’d be exasperated, too, had she been the one to be captured by such a group of idiots. But, rather than simply sit back and allow them to come up with any... enterprising uses for the weapons they carry, Alice carefully watches as the Bandersnatch wriggles again, measures the amount of slack he’s got to work with, and then she acts.

“Oh, ho!” she calls, standing upright. “Looks like you boys have caught yourselves a Bandersnatch!”

The card soldiers startle and leap into formation with their spears held at the ready.

Alice smiles thinly and moves toward the beast as if she is eyeing up a prospective mount... which, admittedly, she is. Or will. In the future, anyway.

“He’s a beauty,” she tells the soldiers as they watch her circle around the back of the heaving creature. “Would you take a cask of Witzend wine for him? I’ve been looking for a new mount, you know. For the grandkids.”

As she speaks, she takes advantage of the Bandersnatch’s bulk, which blocks her from view of the Red Knights. She pauses beside each stake and gently kicks at it a bit, then leans her heel against it, loosening it within the ground.

“You don’t want no Bandersnatch for your grandkids, lady,” one of the card soldiers declares.

Alice laughs. “Oh, you don’t have any little ones of your own, now, do you?” she teases him with a knowing smirk. “Yes, I thought you looked to be a bachelor,” she concludes when the soldier stands up a bit taller to compensate for the blow to his pride.

Another card soldier turns to his fellow and proclaims, “Ain’t you asked that nice maid to marry you yet?”

“He ain’t got a ring!” a third Red Knight interjects. Alice continues to work at the moorings, wiggling them loose one at a time. Out of the corner of his jaundiced eye, the Bandersnatch watches her progress.

“I do have a ring!” the first card soldier protests.

“Well, then give us a look then,” yet another invites, nudging him with his armored elbow.

The first grumbles, “I don’t got it on me now. I’m working!”

Alice gives the stake she’s currently working a final kick and with a glance and a nod at the Bandersnatch, he erupts into motion. Alice ducks down, flattening herself against the ground and rolling away as he surges up from beneath the net and lets his massive tail fly through the air.

It’s an easy shot; all of the Red Knights are still clustered together in tight formation and all with their weapons only partially at the ready. The bulk of the Bandersnatch’s extremely frumious tail slams into them and they somersault back into the forest, smacking and clanging against the trees.

Yes, it’s an excellent shot, but Alice knows they won’t be down for long. It takes more than a hard slap to stop the Red Knights. The Bandersnatch turns toward her, snuffling his thanks. Alice knows neither of them have time for that, no matter how welcome.

“Get out of here!” she hisses, shooing him away with her arm as she lurches to her feet. “The Red Queen demands they capture you. You know they won’t stop. If they do, it’ll be their heads!”

“Grrrup!” he insists, shuffling a bit closer.

Alice crosses her arms. “Bloody brangergain, Sir Bandersnatch. Unless you want to find yourself working for the Red Queen, you’d better get galumphing!”

He shakes his head, turns to the side and nods for her to jump up on his shoulders.

“Blast and buttered toast,” she mutters. “If it’ll get you moving...” She takes a running leap (insofar as her aged, creaky knees can run) and pulls herself atop his dirty, matted fur. Her eyes water at the stench, but she says nothing to him about it. He knows he smells rather... rank. And, in the future, when he has his own troupe of grooms to see to his baths every day, his scent is musky rather than pungently ripe. She thinks of that future and tells herself it helps. Even though it really doesn’t.

He takes off just as the pile of armor-plated cards start clanking and clunking with purpose. Leaning over his ear, Alice whispers her destination...

… a dormouse, a hare, and a hatter on the road to Mamoreal.

 

*~*~*~*

 
 

Notes:

 

1.  Alice remembers meeting the Duchess and the Cook from Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. In the novel, shortly after meeting them, she runs off with the Duchess’ baby, thinking to save it from her brashness (the Duchess handles the poor thing so roughly it screams and Alice takes pity on it). After running from the house with the child, it turns into a pig and heads off into the woods, at which point the Cheshire Cat shows up and leads 6-year-old Alice to the Hare and the Hatter.

 2.  I very nearly had Alice arrive in the Past before Horvendush Day... and yes, I very nearly made her weigh her future with Tarrant and their son’s existence against the lives of his clan and the guests at the Maigh.  Nearly.  My husband talked me out of it.  (Hence the comment about avoiding "unnecessary angst" in the story notes on the table of contents page.)  However!  I had to nod to the pain Tarrant goes through and the sacrifices he makes during the film.  Alice knows he is hurt very badly by the Knave (although I never explicitly state precisely how he’d been tortured while Alice spends the night under his top hat on the river bank).  Here Alice acknowledges the horrors ahead of him and the fact that she can do nothing to stop or change things... without risking the future as she knows it.

3.  I noticed in the movie that the Bandersnatch never tried to hurt Alice. He chases her, roars at her, and the scratch he gives her is accidental (as he reaches for his face right after Mally plucks out his eye). And even after Alice gains his trust (which seemed a bit too easily done, in my opinion), she leaves the door to his shed open but he doesn’t escape. So, that got me thinking that the Bandersnatch was waiting for her, just like everyone else, and was pretending to go along with the Red Queen’s orders while hanging out at the castle at Crims just in case the Right Alice needed him. That’s my theory and there will be more on this later. (^__~)