Thursday, March 29, 2007

Abaddon XVI

Out of habit, Eluned awoke early the following morning. But, when she saw the dull grey light, she rolled away from the window pulling the comforter over her head. She had no idea what time it was but it not only looked early but cold. It didn’t take her long to doze off again.

When she wakened again a few hours later, the light hadn’t changed. Pulling the comforter around her for warmth, she crossed the narrow space to the window and peered out. The sky was steel grey with a low-hanging clouds. She put her hand to the leaded glass of the window and pulled it back quickly as if stung.

Starting to shiver, she groaned. There was no way she was going to head out on a day like this – cold and gray and threatening snow. She hoped she could talk Jabb into staying one more night. She wondered if there were any other clothes available in this town. Hers were filthy and she couldn’t bear the thought of putting them back on.

She scanned the room, looking for the pile of dirty clothes she had so unceremoniously tossed on the floor the previous night. They were no where in sight. Her brow creased in perplexity. Had she really slept so hard that she hadn’t heard Bonpo, or someone else, for that matter, enter her room to gather them up to wash?

Or, she sat down on her bed with dawning realization. Had they even been here when she returned from her bath? Of course, that was it. Jabberwock or Bonpo had entered her room while she immersed in her hot tub, soaking away the miles and the cold.

She remembered thinking as she finally pulled herself out of the rapidly cooling water that she had soaked in all the warmth and transferred her cold to the water. Even her marrow finally felt warm. And she had pretty much run straight from the bath, diving into bed and scrambling beneath the covers before she had a chance to get cold again.

But that still didn’t solve her problem. What clothes was she supposed to change into?

She peeked out into the upper hallway. It was empty. She tiptoed down the hall to the next room where Bonpo and Jabb were staying. She knocked, somewhat timidly, on the door. Listening intently for sounds of movement or even snoring, she was disappointed to hear absolute silence.

The feather comforter still clutched around her thin shoulders like a royal robe, she stamped her foot in irritation. She was hungry. Starving, actually, as she had fallen asleep before she had a chance to eat.

“Damn it,” she said aloud, heading toward the staircase that would lead her down to the kitchens and great room. As she reached the foot of the stairs, she could hear voices and when she turned the corner into the great room, she saw Bonpo, Jabberwock and Gwrhyr sitting comfortably around a small table and talking animatedly.

Bonpo saw her first and stood up so fast he knocked his chair over with a crash.

“Plincess!” he blurted.

Eluned’s eyes flashed in anger and Gwrhyr gave her a calculating look. She decided to ignore it but she wasn’t about to forget that she’d heard Jabberwock’s voice. He had told her it was too dangerous to speak here. She would definitely be speaking to him about that. But at the moment, there were more important things to worry about.

“Where the hell are my clothes?”

“Dey are being creaned,” Bonpo said, apologetically. “I tought dey dry by now, but too corl.”

“Is there anything else in this God forsaken place that I can wear? This is a trade route. Surely someone sells clothing.”

“I imagine that something can be pulled together,” Gwrhyr spoke.

The Princess was torn. On the one hand, she was really angry that this man had so seemingly easily wormed his way into Jabberwock’s good graces; so much so that the Bandersnatch was speaking. Yet, she really preferred not to spend the rest of the day, stuck in her room because she was wearing only a night gown. Once again, it looked like she was going to have to be indebted to him, a complete stranger and Omni knew what else. He could be a horse thief, for all she knew, and besides, she found not being able to be self sufficient truly irritating.

She blushed, more in anger than humiliation, “Would you mind going with Bonpo to find me something? Unfortunately, I can’t exactly wander around like this.”

She blushed again as Gwrhyr made of point of scanning her from the top of her bare head to the tips of her bare toes.

“I kind of like it,” he grinned in such a way that her blush deepened a shade or two. Tears pricked her eyes at the humiliation. If she had been looked at that way in Zion, her father would have punished the malefactor.

“Thank you,” she managed to choke as the two headed out. She pulled out a chair and said, “Is there anyway I can get something warm to drink around here?” while staring accusingly at Jabberwock.

He had the good grace to look chastened, but nodded at the hand bell that rested on the table. “Just ring that, and someone will be here shortly.”

True to his word, a youth arrived from the direction of the kitchen.

“Can I get you something miss?” he asked in Draconian.

Eluned almost cried in relief. “Yes, please,” she said in Draconian but with a heavy Zionese accent. “Coffee, please? And something to eat?”

“Yes, miss,” he said, staring at her as if she were a vision.

“Thank you,” she prompted. He reddened and backed toward the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back, miss.”

“Thank you,” she said, again, turning to look with amusement at Jabberwock when the boy had disappeared back into the kitchen.

She shook her head, “You’d think he’d never seen a female.”

“Oh I would guarantee he’s never seen a female as beautiful as you. He probably thinks you’re an angel.”

Eluned laughed, but then remembered she was angry with the Bandersnatch. “Did I hear you talking with Gwrhyr?” her tone became accusing.

“I apologize for not being able to discuss this with you, first, but Bonpo and I were negotiating with the man. We feel it would be really helpful if we paid him to serve us for awhile.”

“Serve us? How?”

“Not only is he fluent in many languages,” Jabberwock explained, “but he knows horses and pack animals, and it would definitely look better for you to be traveling with at least one more person. Although, I can’t believe I didn’t think to hire a maid servant to travel with us. We’re really going to have to come up with a cover story.”

“Does he know who I am?”

“Well, thanks to Bonpo’s little slip, I’d imagine he has a few questions. It is up to you to decide whether to entrust him with that information.”

The door to the kitchen opened again, and the young scullion entered carrying a tray laden with coffee, cream and a typically Draconian breakfast – thick creamy yogurt, brown sugar, dried fruit and nuts.

The Princess’s stomach clenched at the sight of it. She had had no idea that she would spend so much time during this journey nearly faint with hunger. She set about eating the meal slowly though so that her empty stomach wouldn’t rebel.

Once the boy was gone and she had managed a few, blessedly warm, sips of coffee and stirred some of the sugar, fruits and nuts into her yogurt, she began to ponder whether or not to let Gwrhyr know who her father was.

“Do you think he’ll try to take advantage of us if he knows?” she asked.

“Take advantage? How?”

“Well, we don’t know what kind of person he really is. Just because he has been helpful doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have some sort of ulterior motive,” she responded.

“A good point,” Jabberwock mused, “but I tend to believe him.”

“Believe him?”

“His story.”

“What’s his story?” she asked, dubiously.

“Ask him your self,” he retorted as footsteps could be heard approaching the dining room. She turned to look over her shoulder as Gwrhyr and Bonpo appeared.

“I solly,” Bonpo said, depositing a parcel in her lap, “onry fine men crove.”

Eluned surveyed him blankly.

“He means that we found only clothing suitable for men,” Gwrhyr interpreted.

An expression that was a cross between consternation and intense curiosity crossed the Princess’s face. Mens clothing, huh? She had never had a chance to wear pants. And you never knew when the opportunity might arise again, she began to smile, and as a disguise . . . well who would think to look for a princess in pants.

“Thank you,” she said, standing up. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get dressed.” She readjusted the comforter and walked toward the stairs. The impression was regal, to say the least. You almost didn’t have to imagine the tiara perched atop her shining black curls.

“If you’re trying to hide a princess,” Gwrhyr addressed Jabberwock with a crooked grin and raised eyebrow, “you might want to teach her how to act less uppity.”

Bonpo flushed. If only he hadn’t called her princess. But there was a mischievous sparkle in Jabberwock’s eyes as he watched the princess leave the room. She was definitely going to have to let Gwrhyr in on the truth. Not only did he already suspect, but it would more than likely be advantageous to them all for him to possess that knowledge.


The Princess returned to her room, which was still just as chilly as when she’d left it, and ripped open the package Bonpo had dropped in her lap. Her anticipatory smile widened as she withdrew a pair of leather pants, a rough spun wool sweater and a leather jerkin.

The comforter slid to the floor as she pulled her night gown over her head and hastily replaced it with the sweater. Sitting down on the bed, she pulled the close-fitting pants over her feet and up, fastening them with the leather laces that criss-crossed up the front. She pulled the jerkin on over the sweater fastening the toggle buttons. She wished she had a mirror in which to survey herself.

Bonpo had taught her the trick of sleeping with her socks rather than in them so that she would wake up to warm and dry socks in the morning, and she searched under the sheets for her only pair. She should have asked Bonpo and Gwrhyr to purchase her another pair or two; but she had forgotten that just as she had forgotten to bring more than one pair on the trip. Her nose wrinkled at the smell as she pulled her only pair on yet again. She was definitely going to have to venture out with Bonpo or Gwrhyr to find some more socks! These were in desperate need of washing and she really couldn’t continue to go around bare foot.

After pulling her boots on over her pants, she suddenly experienced a moment of trepidation. She had never dressed as men dress in her entire life; her parents would have never allowed it. And she felt some guilt as she strode over to the door. And what if she looked like a fool? What would she do if they all burst out laughing when she returned to the great room?

She took a deep breath, shot an arrow prayer and opened the door.

“There’s only one way to find out,” she muttered under her breath as she started down the stairs.


But she saw nothing but appreciation in the faces that turned her way when she entered the room. A variety of expressions, actually, now that she was closer. Jabberwock, as always, managed to look both approving and mysterious at the same time. There was always a lot going on in that tiny little head of his.

Bonpo looked both surprised and proud. He had done well at guessing her size.

Gwrhyr wore the oddest expression. She could have sworn there was a small flame of desire burning in eyes but he somehow seemed disgusted or angry, even, as if it was beneath him to desire her? She wasn’t sure, but his reaction intrigued her.

Despite the look on his face, he said, “You wear men’s clothing very well.”

“Thank you kind sir,” she responded with a tinge of sarcasm. He grimaced but stood up and pulled out a seat for her.

Sliding into the chair, she once again surveyed the faces around the table and was for the first time, the full realization that she was surrounded by males hit her. Albeit one of the males was a Bandersnatch, Janawar or dhami dhole, whichever one preferred to refer to him as; and another was a giant Dzironian or what had Jabberwock called him? A dzu-tch?

Finally, she looked at Gwrhyr. His hazel eyes looked teal today and were boring into her own. She held his gaze, studying him. He was the wild card. Or was he? Had he been thrown into this odd mix just as Bonpo had? Had Omni set her up with this unusual trio for a reason? And why was she the only female?

“Jabberwock tells me he asked you to help us out as we continue our journey,” she said.

“That’s true,” his gaze shifted to fox-like mammal.

“And?”

“And?” he repeated.

“Have you agreed?”

Bonpo and Jabberwock turned toward him, questioningly.

“Well, I must admit, it’s truly tempting, and possibly a lot more exciting than my current option,” he began.

“Which is?” Eluned interrupted.

“Hooking up with the next caravan that passes through . . .”

“And that would be mostly likely what this time of year?” it was the Bandersnatch’s turn to interject.

“Most likely coal from Annewven heading north toward Muskroe,” Gwrhyr answered, not sounding particularly thrilled by the prospect.

“Oooo coal,” Eluned couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice, “that sounds so exciting!”

“Oh, and you think traveling with an arrogant wench such as yourself would be preferable?” Gwrhyr drawled, leaning toward the Princess menacingly.

“Wench!” Eluned shouted, leaning toward him and grabbing his short beard in her fist and twisting it. “How dare you speak to me thus. By Omni, I would rather walk every step of the way than . . .”

Gwrhyr grabbed the curls on either side of her head and pulled her face closer. Eluned’s eyes flashed, dangerously. But before the palm she was raising could reach its mark, Gwrhyr kissed the Princess soundly on the mouth before letting her go and pushing his chair away from her.

Eluned jumped up, tears springing to her eyes from both fury and shock. “You can’t do that!” she screamed, launching herself toward him like a catamount defending its territory.

But he easily seized her fragile wrists in a steely grip and before she knew what was happening, he’d knocked her feet from beneath her and she landed hard on the dirty flagstones that tiled the great room’s floor.

The tears that now overflowed her lids were from pain and humiliation. She had never been treated like this before in her life! Who, or better, what, did this man think she was? Women had never been misused this way in her father’s kingdom.

“Women?” a tiny voice in her head asked, “or was the King Seraphim’s daughter an exception?” The room around her blurred as she picked herself up and dusted herself off. Bonpo already had Gwrhyr’s neck in a vise grip and Jabberwock was noisily telling him to let go and for every body to just calm down. But, the princess was a thousand miles away.

As she slumped back into her chair, she tried to remember how things were in and around the castle, but she had been so protected, so coddled. Everyone had always known where she was and while their tongues might occasionally slip around her, the tempers seldom did.

The tears spilled down her cheeks as she stared down at her hands. But, she admitted to herself, there had been those rare occasions when she had dashed into the kitchen for a snack just as a scullery maid was receiving the back of the cook’s hand to her face; or wandered into the stables just as a stable boy was fielding off the angry blows of the ferrier. She supposed if she thought about it, she could raise dozens of such memories. But they had been, she hiccupped, servants.

“No,” her conscience scolded her, “they had been humans.” And why shouldn’t Gwrhyr expect her to be any different than any other woman he’d encountered in his life? After all, she really was just some strange ‘wench’ who had appeared out of the blue demanding all kind of assistance from him. Her eyes began to clear and she noticed that Gwrhyr was holding out a handkerchief. She accepted it with a murmured thank you and wiped her face.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “That was completely out of line.”

“No, I probably deserved it,” Eluned sighed. She stood up, “Will take a walk with me? There are probably some things I need to tell you before you can make a decision. Besides, I need some socks.”

“Socks?”

“Obviously, I’m not used to packing for myself,” she said, self-deprecatingly. “I neglected to bring more than the pair I was wearing when I set out on this journey.”

1 comment:

King of Peace said...

“Obviously, I’m not used to packing for myself.”

Ah you can take the princess out of the palace, but can you take that princess sense of entitlement and having others do for you out of the princess?

I guess we shall see.

-Frank