Abaddon IV

IV

So, tomorrow she would celebrate her eighteenth birthday. She didn’t even know what to expect on the day’s dawning. She knew her anticipation of the event was nearly more than she could bear, but not because of the normal associations made with birth days but because of what the date promised—freedom. It was less than twelve hours until dawn and officially her birthday and the wait seemed interminable.

She stared out the leaded glass of her bedroom window, high in the turret of the east tower. She could just see the snow-capped peaks of the mountains over the castle wall. Tomorrow, she shivered, she might be lodging beneath their slopes.

Jabberwock had hinted at another world—a world which reflected fear and worry in his glass eyes. But, if that were so, then why was he so determined to show it to her? Surely her father’s world, outside the castle walls, would have been enough to satisfy her curiosity? But the Bandersnatch knew her better than she knew herself; at least, that was how she felt most of the time. She sighed again. She must trust him completely. If it hadn’t been for the strange little creature she would soon be married off to King Uriel and she would have to spend the rest of her life bound within the walls of yet another castle. And, she doubted she’d find a friend comparable to Jabberwock in its woods.

Stretching, she vacated her window seat, unconsciously smoothing the pleats of her soft flannel skirt. Catching a glimpse of huge eyes and creased brow in the gilt-framed mirror that occupied a far corner of her tower room, Eluned turned to survey herself. What would people see when they met her? Her long, white throat curved toward a well-defined, slightly cleft chin. High cheekbones accented her oval face. Skin as white as fine alabaster, hair as dark as obsidian, and eyes as liquid green as a coral sea reflected back at her.

Untying the black velvet ribbon that unsuccessfully attempted to control hair savage with curls, Eluned experimented with different styles, piling the corkscrews atop her small head, letting it hang, barbaric, around her face. She liked it like that. It made her feel untamed and gypsy-like, primitive and savage. She wanted to strip down and dance nearly naked around a fire. She wanted to meet an equally wild-eyed man. She wanted too much. A fine spray of tears misted from the ocean of her eyes. It was hopeless. Her expectations for the rest of her life were too high. Tomorrow would never come.


But, tomorrow always arrives and this Wednesday morning dawned pink, orange and purple around the mountains to the east. The Princess had barely slept the night before and was up, goose down comforter wrapped around her slender shoulders, to watch the sky lighten from velvety black to deep purple and blue. Eluned waited with trepidation and anticipation for the appearance of the sun. She longed to feel its warmth against her face; to finally experience the freedom it would bring as it summoned the new day. She wondered where she and the Bandersnatch would go first. Some place warm, she hoped, for she lived in a mostly cold land and was born in an always cold and snowy month. She hated being cold and during the long winters it sometimes seemed as if the sun had deserted her father’s kingdom permanently.

The sun crested behind the mountains reflecting shimmery gold light into her eyes. She blinked, lifting her face to the light; shivered with delight, throwing the comforter onto the floor. She always made her bed but never again, not here, anyway! She bit her lip. On second thought, was that really the impression she wanted to leave behind. She bent over and picked up the crumpled duvet, placing it back on her bed and smoothing it out. She even picked up her pillow, re-lumped it, and reclined her stuffed unicorn against it. She was going to miss her little Eira. There had been countless times in the past 18 years when she had hugged the doll to her chest as she fell asleep; she had cried many tears into its soft fabric as well . . .

It was time to pack. The Princess had saved this final act of preparation for the very last moment because Jabberwock had told her she could bring little more than what she was wearing. A medium-sized tapestry bag would have to suffice for she would have to carry it, herself. Gazing, reflectively, into the depths of her closet, she wondered what to bring. They would just have to go someplace warm. That was all there was to it. She couldn’t possibly carry all the clothes she would need to keep warm. Eluned decided she would wear her wool cloak to begin with and toss it whenever they reached the warm place, a desert, most definitely. She would ask him to take her to a desert.

White, then. The choice of color wasn’t difficult. She wore white in the spring and summer, black in the fall and winter. She would carry white, wear black. Long skirts and dresses were all that were worn by women in her father’s kingdom. She had often wondered what it would be like to wear pants. She wondered now what people wore in the desert, what kind of clothes they wore in the world they would be exploring. Would she stand out? Would people look at her and laugh? Would it be obvious that she was had led an amazingly sheltered life?

Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs that were obscuring her thoughts, she donned her favorite blouse and skirt, reined in her hair with a lace ribbon. Sprawled coltish on the floor, she pulled on thick wool socks. Shoes were tossed overhead and on to the marble floor behind her as she scoured the armoire for appropriate footwear. Ah! She pulled soft leather boots over delicately arched feet and lean calves.

Nightshirt, toothbrush and other necessary items were tossed into the tapestry satchel on which virgins and unicorns danced through an enchanted forest. She was ready to go. She was shaking. Her heart felt as if it were racing. When would the Bandersnatch be announced? Where in creation was he?

Pacing the pink marble floor, kicking throw rugs impatiently aside as they got in her way, she wondered if she could stand waiting another minute, even another second.

A gentle knock at her door. Her heart stopped.

It was her mother. Tears coursed down her royal cheeks. The Princess, uncharacteristically, threw herself into her mother’s arms.

“I wish you didn’t feel as if you must embark on this . . . this folly,” her mother whispered, holding her only child close to her breaking heart.

“Mother, we’ve discussed this!” Eluned cried, petulantly. “Please don’t try to stop me. Not now! Not so close . . .”

She heard the commotion downstairs and stiffened. Jabberwock must have arrived. Her mother slowly distanced herself from her daughter and, almost as an afterthought, kissed Eluned gently on the lips.

“I know I haven’t told you often enough,” she sighed, patting the tears from her cheeks with a silk handkerchief, “but I love you, desperately.”

Tears made a journey of their own down the rose-dappled cheeks of the princess. “I will miss you, Mother,” she whispered. “Both you and Father, but mostly you.” Grabbing her colorful valise, the Princess flew out of her room and down the winding stairs, disdaining to look back at her chamber, her mother. She didn’t want to stay. She must away. She must!

But, it wasn’t going to be quite that easy. At the bottom of the stairs, the King and Brother Columcille and the Bandersnatch watched her descent.

“A word before you leave,” her father said, quietly. His eyes were brighter than usual.

“Yes, Sir.” The King led the way to the sitting room and they settled themselves. The Princess was anxious to leave, but it was clear that her father was not in a hurry. She grudgingly accepted a cup of coffee and allowed the maid to stir some cream into the porcelain mug decorated with the Kingdom’s heraldic symbols. She stared into the tawny liquid and waited for her father to say whatever it was he felt he had to say, mentally rolling her eyes.

“I am not really sure how to begin,” he started, cleared his throat. “I would imagine that you are aware that your mother and I are not thrilled with the prospect of this so-called, uh, journey.” He was silent a moment, heaved a sigh and began again, “But, Brother Columcille and Jabberwock, here, have convinced us that it is of utmost importance that you be allowed this chance; that it is essential to your growth in The Way. And, so, you shall go. BUT, and this is a very strong and absolutely essential “But.” You must be back at this castle by your 21st birthday. You will marry King Uriel. The date has been set and will not be moved. Do you understand?”

Eluned’s eyes echoed with mutiny, but she inclined her head and murmured, “Yes, Sir.”

to be continued tomorrow...