Abaddon XIII

When she awakened the next morning, she was surprised to find a coating of frost covering her blanket and the ground. She glanced up at the sky and shuddered. If she was right, there would be snow before the day was out. As if in response to that thought, one delicate (but icy) flake promptly landed on her nose. Her first impulse was to snuggle back beneath the blankets. That, and cry. But, after all, she was the one who couldn’t wait to leave her father’s kingdom behind. Gritting her teeth (again), she eased her way out of the blankets and was soon shivering despite her cloak, two cotton and one flannel blouses, and her cotton and wool skirts. Brrr . . . when would Bonpo ever have that coffee ready.

Rationally, she knew that once they started walking, her body would begin to warm up, but she was too cold to think rationally. And, if the cold wasn’t bad enough, a fine mist of snowflakes had begun to fall. If they didn’t get moving soon, she would be soaked from the sticky flakes. Her toes and fingers and nose already felt frozen. Eluned sniffed and began to stamp her feet. She needed to make a trip into the woods but the thought of raising her skirts even a fraction of an inch. Not that she actually had much choice, she grimaced. She eyed the woods in disgust, then looked longingly back at the fire that was roaring happily once again thanks to Bonpo’s ministrations. Jabberwock was sitting there, apparently carefree, as he seemed to be watching her quandary with great amusement. She glared at him and he barked with laughter.

“Valdaree, valdara, valdaree, valdara ha ha ha ha ha,” he started singing. If looks could kill, Jabberwock would have been silenced immediately. As it was, Bonpo, missing entirely the fact that the Bandersnatch was pestering the Princess, took up the song as well:

“A knapsack on my back,” he sang , lustily, is his rich bass. The Princess shrieked and stomped off into the woods. “What?” he asked Jabberwock, much taken aback by Eluned’s response. “What I do?”

“Not a thing,” he was assured. “Not a thing.”

To give the Princess some credit, she returned to the fire seemingly embarrassed. “I am sorry for my outburst,” she apologized, formally. “I don’t know what got into me.” And I don’t know why Jabberwock has become so short-tempered with me, she thought. But, if she had really thought about it, she would have realized that both Jabberwock and Bonpo were as uncomfortable as she was with the dropping temperatures. The flakes were beginning to fall more quickly, and they all continued to glance at the sky as they gulped their hot coffee and bolted down some oatmeal. They left their camp barely an hour after first awakening and not a one gave it a second glance when it disappeared from sight as they turned the bend in the trail.


The snow was falling so thickly that the trio could barely see a few yards ahead of themselves. Because Bonpo’s stride was so long, Eluned was leading and both Jabberwock and Bonpo nearly fell on top of her, when she tripped over a root hidden by the snow and tumbled head first along the path. The curse she bellowed would have sent the Queen into shock. Jabberwock was dumbfounded, but only because the Princess had obviously spent more time with the castle’s various servants (who would have cursed like that? The stable hands? The domestics?) than she had let on. Bonpo was caught so off guard, that he brayed laughter. Eluned righted herself, brushed as much of the wet snow off her clothing as possible and continued to march. But it wasn’t just the cold that made her cheeks red. And, every time Bonpo snorted with laughter (it took a good mile and a steady ascent to calm him down the first time) as he remembered her outburst, the hue in her cheeks would deepen. They hadn’t stopped for lunch yet, and she wasn’t sure she could make it the rest of the day. Not only was she frozen and tired, but she had humiliated herself, and that, along with the fall had taken a lot out of her.

As a matter of fact, when it came time to stop for lunch, she started shivering so quickly, that Jabberwock suggested marching rations. Despite the fact she was tired of walking, she wanted to stop even less. She gratefully accepted the pemmican Bonpo offered her and gnawed on it as they continued their climb to the next campsite. She was sure they would arrive early. They had been walking steadily all day.


It must have been the snow, but about the time they figured they should be reaching the campsite, they could find nothing that resembled a flat spot with a permanent fire ring. Three pairs of eyes squinted through the falling snow and bluish light over the course of the next few miles, seeking anything that even slightly resembled a spot to camp. They had long since given up on finding the actual site, and Eluned was at the brink of despair—her feet were throbbing and cold, her nose ran constantly and was chapped, as were her lips and cheeks, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt her finger tips. Where, oh where was the site. And precluding the actual site, why, oh why couldn’t they find at least a half-way flat spot in which to camp for the evening.

The bluish light was beginning to fade to grey and still the snow came tumbling down. Eluned was the first to voice their fears, although she tried to make it sound lighthearted, “This must be the Snow of Misery,” she laughed (or was it a sob), “because I sure am miserable.”

“I imagine this is the prelude,” Jabberwock answered. “If this were the actual Storm, we wouldn’t even be able to walk.” Bonpo grunted his agreement. This snow was bad, but it was a spring shower compared to the hurricane that was the Snow of Misery, which had been very aptly named.

“What happens if we get caught in the storm?” Eluned asked, quietly. Neither Bonpo nor Jabberwock responded. How to tell her it meant certain death? Not only because of the amount of snow that would be dumped on the mountains and block the pass from either side, but because they were carrying only a few days rations—enough to get them comfortably down the eastern side of the range and to the village that sat on its lower slopes. Presuming they could build themselves some sort of shelter to last them ‘til the worst of the snow melted, they would run out of food (even if they rationed it) long before that happened. The Snow of Misery could easily keep the passes blocked for up to a month, depending on how much snow fell. They would be lucky if they made it a week if they were unfortunate enough to be trapped. At that moment, Jabberwock could not think of a more dismal death.

Eluned had begun to moan softly, as if every step brought her insufferable pain. No doubt her feet were nearing frostbite in those relatively thin-soled suede boots. If Jabberwock had thought about it, he would have made sure she was better outfitted for the trip. He had known they would be crossing these mountains, and yet he hadn’t thought of warning her about either the potential for severe cold nor the fact that if she weren’t used to it, the hiking might cause her feet to feel as if they were being struck continuously with a baseball bat.

It hadn’t occurred to him because he always trotted around on four legs. He eyed her, guiltily, and started looking harder for a spot to camp. Obviously, they had passed the site. “All right,” he barked, “I give up. Let’s just camp in the middle of the trail!”

Bonpo and Eluned stopped so suddenly that Jabberwock ran into the giant’s left leg; it was like running into a tree trunk.

Bonpo didn’t waste any time. Setting down his load of food and blanket, he tromped off into the woods to gather wood for a fire. Unlike the previous day when she had to force herself into the woods to gather wood, this time she took off quickly after Bonpo. The idea of standing still for even one minute in the constantly falling snow made her shiver uncontrollably. So, despite her throbbing feet, she scavenged with Bonpo, pawing away snow and numbly picking up fallen branches.

Back on the trail, Jabberwock was kicking aside snow in an effort to get as firm a base as possible for the fire. He sighed. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about setting the woods on fire. Bonpo returned with wood, and with what seemed like magic, soon had a fire blazing. Eluned followed shortly with more wood and began pacing the perimeter of the blaze, passing behind Bonpo and Jabberwock as she made her circuit. In some ways, she was afraid to stop, fearful that her body temperature would drop too much if she stilled herself for even a second. Eventually, exhaustion won out and she wrapped herself in a blanket, and sat as close to the fire as she dared.

Using snow for water, Bonpo elected to make a soup for dinner. The more hot liquid he could get into the Princess, the better off she would be, he decided.

All things considered, it didn’t take long for the soup—just a matter of rehydrating the vegetables and meat (and several more forays into the woods to gather an overnight and morning supply of wood). Once they had savored every last drop, Bonpo pulled out a tarp and rigged them a covered space close to the fire. They had to suffer the occasional blast of wind blown smoke, but at least they were free of the snow (although Jabberwock worried whether the tarp would withstand a night’s worth of the precipitation).

Bonpo saw him eyeing the roof of the tent, and offered to occasionally wipe it clear during the night should the tarp begin to sag. There was a collective sigh of relief from both Jabberwock and Eluned; the latter snuggling down into her blankets and drifting off to sleep to the sounds of the crackling fire and the murmured conversation between her two companions. Oddly enough, she felt content.