Tuesday, October 29, 2019

the adventures of yeti - 23. the castle


by bofa xesjum

part twenty-three of ?

to read previous episode, click here

to begin at the beginning, click here





a dreary evening in the castle, with a storm raging outside.

it had been raining through the evening, and if the travelers who had taken shelter were to be believed, snow was approaching from the south.

the five travelers had arrived earlier, and the countess had thought they might provide her with some amusement, but they had all pleaded weariness, and the ever gracious countess had allowed them to retire .


there had been four men - one good looking young man, one surly brute, two taciturn nonentities - and a young woman who had seemed the least sociable of the lot.

the fire crackled in the grate. the countess yawned. she was almost tempted to go to bed herself.

forbes, the butler, appeared.

dr edwardstein is here, madam.

does he have anyone with him? you know how fond he is of picking up strays on the highway, especially on rainy and stormy nights.


he does have a young man with him, madam. one i do not recall ever seeing before, though of course i can not be positive, with madam being such a welcoming hostess and allowing all manner of human and beast into her most gracious presence.

yes, show him in. i just hope he is not expecting any scintillating conversation or entertainment.

forbes laughed softly. perhaps he thinks dr franklinstein is here - or is expecting him to show up later.

who knows? in any case, show eddie and his friend in.


forbes departed, and a minute later dr edwardstein and yeti entered.

yeti was impressed with the countess’s drawing room, as he had been impressed with the castle and everything he had seen in and around it since dr edwardstein had first approached it in his pickup truck.

who’s your friend? the countess asked dr edwardstein.

the doctor turned to yeti. what did you say your name was again?

yeti.


yes, of course. the doctor turned back to the countess, nodded, and headed toward a chair near the fireplace.

i was singing the praises of your pastry cook to my young friend here, the doctor announced as he settled into the chair. i hope we are not too late to sample some of his creations.

it is never early or late here in the castle, eddie, you know that. actually, i had some unexpected guests earlier tonight and they made short work of alexander’s apple strudel, but i am sure he would be honored to whip you up another batch.


that would be very nice, the doctor replied. and some coffee, perhaps…. i am still feeling a bit chilled.

of course. and how about you, young man, does apple strudel suit you? and some coffee? and, please, be seated. we are all friends here.

yes, yes, thank you, yeti managed to say. he looked around for the smallest, most uncomfortable chair he could find, and sat down slowly in it. his clothes were still a little wet, but nobody seemed to mind.


the countess rang a little bell on the table beside her thronelike chair.

forbes reappeared and took the order for strudel and coffee.

i don’t see any guests, dr edwardstein said to the countess, after forbes left. and i don’t see frank. i take it he is not here.

no, he is not. we had a carful of stranded travelers earlier, but they all pleased exhaustion, and preferred the company of morpheus to mine.


ah. but they enjoyed alexander’s apple strudel.

so it seemed.

the apple strudel gave me nightmares, a voice behind them said. or something did.

a young woman, the only female from the group of five stranded travelers, appeared, and took a seat.

i am sorry to hear that, the countess replied. perhaps some coffee will clear your head.


maybe. thank you. the young woman yawned.

what did you say your name was? the countess asked her.

cleo. cleo brown. miss brown to you.

yes, of course. tell me, miss brown, do you expect your friends to awake any time soon?

i really couldn’t say. they are not exactly my friends. three of them are my associates, i wouldn’t call them friends. they are not likely to wake up. the other one, the mug who looked like a strikebreaker, we just picked him up on the road , i don’t know anything about him.


i see. you know, miss brown, i am not making any demand, but it is the custom in these parts for travelers to attempt to repay the hospitality of their hosts by telling a story, if they can, especially on stormy nights such as this.

you want me to tell you a story? miss brown answered. sure, i’ll tell you a story. i’ll tell you the story of my nightmare.

the countess smiled. i am sure it will be most interesting.

24. cleo's tale


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