Sunday, January 21, 2007

Abaddon X

“What’s the real reason you left Dziron?” Eluned asked, testing her coffee with a tentative tongue. It was still too hot. She set it gently back in her saucer and looked Bonpo in the eyes.

“I terl you, too corld.” He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“It’s not that much warmer here,” she insisted. “There has to be another reason.” Jabberwock was watching her with wonder.

She waited for Bonpo to answer, unbuttoning her skirt to relieve the pressure on her overfull belly. Bonpo had filled her with an exquisite soup of stuffed dumplings, rice and stir-fried vegetables, lemon mousse and shortbread. She tried her coffee again. Almost.

Bonpo sighed and his chair protested, loudly, as he resettled his weight. “I no know how say dis.”

“You killed someone.” The Bandersnatch stated it for him. The Princess was startled.

“Really?”

“Dhami Dhole know all,” Bonpo acknowledged.

Her eyes searched the Yeti’s face. Fire burned along the high cheekbones, the dark, tilted eyes danced across the table searching for distraction, anything but the face of the beautiful princess.

“Well,” Eluned asked, “are you going to tell us why? Obviously, it’s not something you’re proud of. Was it self-defense? You must have had a good reason. I don’t think you’re a murderer.”

“No. Not kirrer. Ret me exprain. I kirl not forl me. I kirl for sao.”

“Sao?” Eluned asked.

“Snow leopard,” Jabberwock defined.

“You killed a snow leopard? I don’t understand.”

“No. No kirl sao. Kirl for sao.”

“You killed a man? Or another animal?”

“Hunter. Sao arlmos extinck. Dis man, he poacher. He kirl many sao. Mus stop.”

“So you just killed him?”

“I cause avaranche so he die.”

Eluned laughed. “It’s not funny but it is. Sounds like justifiable homicide to me.”

“The ‘he needed killin’ defense? I wish I’d had Bonpo around 300 years ago,” Jabberwock groused. “We could have used his help when we were being exterminated by the Dzironi.”

“No. You no unnerstan. Never right take rife.”

“I still don’t understand why you had to leave,” Eluned prodded.

“Big mistake kirl dis man. Big man, big name. Search party t’reaten udder Dzu-tch. I tol’ reave.”

"The other yeti ran you off!” Eluned was aghast. “How could they do that to you? Wouldn’t it have been easier to hide out for awhile?”

“You no unnderstan. I bleak ancien’ raw. No bring ‘tention, danger, to home of yeti. I know dis yet I kirl man anyway.”

“You should have broken his neck and carried him to a lower elevation,” the Bandersnatch said, coldly. “At least that way he would have been found right away and perhaps you wouldn’t have suspected. Certainly it would have kept away the search parties.”

“Yes, better sorution,” Bonpo concurred, “but I did not want touch dis man.”

“We learn from our mistakes,” Jabberwock chided the giant.

Bonpo laughed. Eluned was glad the yeti had a good sense of humor. She glared at the Bandersnatch. Why was he being so contemptible?

“Is it always this empty?” She indicated the inn’s dining area.

“Vely quiet ‘cep on res days.”

“It’s been very relaxing,” she yawned, “and the wine, the food, and the company have been outstanding.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jabberwock said.

“You mos’ werlcome. I have queshuns forl you, but dey wait ‘terl morning. I show you your rooms.”

“Please.” Eluned stood and stretched. “I am exhausted.” She arched an eyebrow at the Bandersnatch. I’ll talk to you later, her look plainly said.

Once more they ascended the creaking stairway. The room Bonpo opened for her impressed the Princess. She took in the large feather bed with its fluffy down comforter and the cheery fire in the fireplace and felt her lids growing heavier. Bonpo produced a flask from his vast pockets and set a snifter of brandy warming on her bedside table. She idly wondered if she had not actually died earlier that day and this was heaven.

As his back retreated down the hallway, Jabberwock tagging along at his heels, she called, “You’ll probably have to wake me in the morning, Jabberwock.”

“Oh, I wake,” Bonpo offered. “What time you want get up?”

“At dawn,” the Bandersnatch answered. “We stopped short today. We have lots of time to make up.”

“Why are we in such an all-fire big hurry?” Eluned asked.

“Tell her,” Jabberwock ordered the yeti.

“If you no closs mountains nex’ few days, you be trap in Snow of Misely.”

“Snow of Misery?”

“Yes, rate winter snowstorm come same time each year.”

“Satisfied?” Jabberwock asked.

Lacking a better retort, Eluned extended her tongue, “Phooey on you.” What was his problem, anyway?

But, in the morning, Bonpo didn’t ask any questions. Eluned wondered if they had had further conversation that night—in Jabberwock’s room or down by the fire or even somewhere else. Certainly, it seemed as if the two shared a deeper connection than one could see on the surface. She wondered what they had talked about while she was drowsily sipping her brandy and enjoying her own fire, daydreams and warm comforter. She had even wondered, if idly, whether Bonpo had helped her drowsiness along . . . a little secret something slipped into the flask? But, of course, she was extraordinarily exhausted—both physically and emotionally. Either way, it didn’t take her long to slip off to a most restorative and dreamless sleep.

When Jabberwock awakened her at the crack o’dawn the next morning, she was sound asleep and it took her more than a few minutes to fully awaken. But, once she did, she felt re-energized. She did regret sliding out of bed. The fire had died out during the night and the room had grown chilly.

She debated re-starting the fire but decided against it because by the time it actually had any effect on the room, she’d probably be a mile or so down the road.

As she dressed, she began to regret her decision to bring only warm-weather clothes. Instead of gaining the warmth she desired, she seemed to be losing it. And, it appeared that there would not be an opportune moment any time in the near future to not only wash her clothes, but to allow them to dry. Only two days into the trip, and she was ending each night completely exhausted! And now there were intimations of being trapped in the Snow of Misery. That was definitely a feeling she wanted to avoid at all costs. Misery. Even saying the word made her feel miserable!

Instead of donning the flannel blouse she had worn the previous day, she opted to layer. She just couldn’t bear the thought of putting on that blood-smeared blouse despite the fact she could only barely discern a grass-stain or two (at the most) on the front of it. But she had felt that blood soak through her collar!

She put on a couple of lighter blouses and her wool skirt (again!) before plaiting her hair, surveying the room (she had even somewhat made her bed) and treading lightly downstairs.

Bonpo (Bless his heart!) was ready with a hot, but not too hot, cup of coffee and cream. She sipped it, eagerly, relishing the sensation of the hot liquid as it made its way down her throat and warmed her belly. Bonpo set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven turnovers in front of her. She watched, nearly mesmerized as the steam wafted from them. Finally, she picked one up and tasted it and she remembered Jabberwock harassing her about the food the night before last. She could feel herself salivating even as she took a bite. Apple, flaky, cinnamon . . . mmm. She nearly shuddered. Too bad Bonpo had a job, she’d hire him as her personal cook!

As Eluned enjoyed her breakfast, Jabberwock sat grimly on the bench opposite her. She purposefully ignored him. She had had a wonderful night’s sleep, she was not about to let him disrupt her digestion with his grumpiness. She thoroughly enjoyed her turnover and coffee and decided that she wouldn’t even ruin things by talking about serious matters. She made small talk with Bonpo and left Jabberwock to his own thoughts.

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