A Good End in Badside Part XXXI

From: Oliver D. Bernuetz <bernuetz.oliver_at_...>
Date: Sun, 03 Nov 2002 19:18:03 -0000


As people started making their way back to Pavis, the cemetary was just downriver from the city, I headed over to the woman. Both Belvani and Jorjar had tried to get my attention as they left but I had just waved them off so they shrugged and went back to Pavis with the crowd. I sidled my way over to the graveside and bowed my head trying to look respectable. I stood there in the hot sun as long as I could stand it hoping the woman would either say something or head back to Pavis so I could offer my services as a guardian. When it began to look like she wasn't going to move before she keeled over from the heat she finally made her move. Suddenly she turned and started hiking back to Pavis moving rapidly with a purposeful stride. I hastened to catch up, no easy trick at the pace she was making. I pulled abreast and wheezingly introduced myself while offering my services as a guardian on the still somewhat dangerous trip back to the relative safety of the walls. I was pretty surprised when "she" told me in a decidedly male if not particularily masculine voice to "go bugger myself".

I was taken aback enough to stop in my tracks and let "her" get farther ahead of me. I had to really hoof it to catch up with "her" once I regained mt composure. "Can I ask you some questions?" I managed to gasp between wheezes. (I've really got to start taking better care of myself). I don't know whether it was pity or sympathy or some other misguided emotion but "she" stopped and sighed. "All right, Treibonus I'll talk to you but only if you're buying." I nodded conserving my breath and weakly gestured for "her" to lead us back to Pavis. (Does everyone in this city know my name?) "She" shook her head and said, "we'd better let you rest long enough so you don't die on the walk back." "She" sat down demurely like a woman and I slumped to the ground. I hate sitting on the ground but I wasn't going to get anywhere any time soon. We rested for quite a while and when I thought I could manage to get to my feet and walk we headed back to Pavis.

Through some unspoken communication neither of us spoke even when we were back in Pavis. The damn gate guards winked at me and made some ribald comments about my getting lucky at a funeral. My guide actually swung "her" hips and made kissy noises at the guards. This made them laugh and howl like coyotes. Assholes. Whatever my guide had to say had better be worth this. If anyone discovered I was following a catamite to a bar my reputation would be mud. Thankfully my guide didn't embarass me any more and we finally reached our goal, The Beleaguered Buffalo. If you've never been there try and deny yourself the pleasure. It was at the end of a twisty alley in the Farmer's Quarter, not too far from Gimpy's actually but not right up against the Rubble wall like homesweet home is. If I tell you that the Storm Bull temple is nearby that should give you an idea of the ambiance. I knew we were there when I saw the painting on the wall of a bison being savaged by a pack of wolves. Painted above the picture was the name of the place in New Pelorian, Pavic and what I think was Old Pavic. I don't understand though why the place is called the Beleagured Buffalo when they clearly meant to call it the Beleagured Bison. Probably some confusion by the person painting the name on the wall. Or maybe the artist didn't know what a buffalo looks like. Quite a nice painting surprisingly enough. But why would they name a place in Prax after a buffalo? Must be the first reason.

As soon as I ducked under the lintel and entered the dingy interior I suddenly felt like I was a giant. The place was full of Imapla Riders, little sawed off runts of Praxians none of whose heads reached my chest, despite my own marked lack of stature. The place was decorated with the heads of various herd beasts, no impalas mind you and even what I hoped was a herdman's head. All the eyes in the place turned towards us as we entered. What, a Lunar and a Yemalian woman in this dump were that unusual? Of course like lowlifes everywhere they quickly went back to their business which seemed to consist of throwing knives at the walls, just the walls I hoped, and drinking.

To be continued.

Oliver

Powered by hypermail