by Susan Kohler
“He has a festival and a feast planned to celebrate our harvest. Later, he’s arranging to have skilled engineers travel from the north to study our water supply with an eye to improving it so that we don’t suffer so badly from droughts or floods. Is that the way a despot rules?”
Tom Two continued, “There have been no more hangings since Tom and I were freed. Indeed, the last man to be caught stealing was let off with only a whipping, even though he was proven guilty of stealing much more than we were ever accused of taking. Is that the way an oppressor rules?”
Gradually, the mood of the crowd began to change. The loud outcry and protests faded to a murmuring as the villagers began to realize the recent changes in the Beast.
Encouraged, Beauty once again spoke up. “I’ve been with the Beast when he was so angry, so enraged really, that I marvelled at how he could keep any last vestige of control, but he did. He’s not a gentle man, tis true, and he is often harsh with me but never has he been brutal, and believe me, I’ve given him reason often enough.” She smiled in spite of herself and a chuckle ran through the crowd. “I know he did not murder those girls. It’s just simply not in his nature, else I’d be long since dead. This woman was at the castle, ‘tis true, but the Beast never touched her. She was sent away unharmed. I know for I was there. I also know that the former guard, Gerrin, is both brutal and vicious, filled with a dark bloodlust. He thrives on the pain of others and enjoys the savagery and wanton destruction of battle. He would stop at nothing to feed the anger of this crowd. He would use any means to cause you to revolt. He would do these things just to cause a fight, for the sheer love of bloodshed. He’s a vicious animal without any scruples or morals. Once, he even tried to kill my brother Nate.”
Hearing this, the crowd slowly turned against Gerrin and his men. Nate was well liked in the village in spite of his youth and constant pranks. The Beast once again stepped forward. This time he spoke quietly and wisely, ignoring his close brush with death at the peasants’ hands.
“My men and I go on the morrow to capture Gerrin and to wipe out any trace of his murderous band. I blame myself that I did not see him for the barbarian he is sooner. It’s to my eternal shame that I ever trusted him, but I did.” The Beast paused. “I thought a fierce warrior would serve me well as a good second-in-command but I was wrong. Looking back, I understand that he was evil and savage all along. I never realized that he was so bloodthirsty. He was the one I sent to fetch maidens to pleasure me and he was the one who was ordered to return them to you uninjured. I never knew they were not being returned alive. You, the subjects in my own village, did not trust me or respect me enough to report the girls’ deaths and that also is to my blame. I will carry the weight of their wasted lives with me always in my heart. I grieve for their loss even more because I now know what it means to love.”
Beside him, Beauty gasped aloud as the Beast continued, “So at dawn I must leave the one I love to go avenge those whom you’ve lost and to make our land safe again. Protect Beauty for me and honour her while I’m gone.”
The crowd shouted their approval as the Beast drew a stunned Beauty into his arms and kissed her in front of them with all the passion in his soul. He caught her up in his arms and carried her into the castle and up the long stairs. He made love to her with a passion, almost a desperation that left her breathless and weak long into the night, and again as dawn began to lighten the sky.
The Beast was stunned to see almost all the villagers standing along the road and in front of the castle. They cheered and called out encouragement to him, wishing him luck on his search. He had never gone on a quest with so many people cheering him on before, and something deep inside him was truly touched.
He kissed Beauty again and waved to the crowd before mounting his great black warhorse and giving his men the order to mount theirs. The mounted warriors and foot soldiers went out to hunt Gerrin and his men. This time they vowed they would not return until the deed was done. This time they were cheered on by the villagers. This time Beauty’s fears were tempered by the joy she felt at the Beast’s public admission. This time she had more help from the villagers. She had more peace, yet still she was restless and filled with dread.
Several days later, Beauty was kidnapped. Desperate for some time to herself, she took her guard, Sir Gregory, and went into the forest to search for moss and medicinal herbs. Both Margaret and Gwyneth protested loudly about her going off by herself but she failed to heed their warnings, only agreeing not to go very far. She also promised to keep her guard, Sir Gregory, at her side. Besides, she pointed out, their stocks were low on these herbs and they needed replenishing against the chance of injuries to the soldiers. She also needed herbs for the ailments that would accompany the coming winter.
She had gathered various herbs and moss and was ready to return to the castle when the attack happened. Suddenly, a noise in the thick forest brush caught her attention, but before she even had time to look around at the source, she saw her guard, Sir Gregory, fall from his horse, an arrow sticking out of his side.
She turned her mount to go to his aid but he urged her to run for her life. The sight of another arrow appearing on the ground next to Sir Gregory convinced her that her only chance to save either one of them was to reach the castle and the other guards. She turned her horse and kicked the mare into a full gallop.
She had not gotten far when she heard noises behind her that sickened her: It was the telltale swish of a sword through the air and the moan of a dying man. They’ve killed Gregory, she thought, and it’s my fault. I have to get to the castle. She urged her mount on but in seconds she was surrounded by the small band of thieves.
They formed a tight circle around her, and she watched them in silent horror as one of them dismounted and approached her. It was Wolford. Escape was impossible. Wolford quickly grabbed her. He tied her hands tightly together and roughly put her back on her own mount, but this time with one of the thieves controlling the reins. They set out at a rough gallop as she struggled to remain upright on her mount.
She turned her head as they passed the fallen body of her guard, Sir Gregory. Guilt ate at her since held herself responsible for his death by insisting that he take her into the woods and ignoring the danger from the band of thieves. She knew the death of that good man would haunt her always.
Chapter Eleven
Beauty found it extremely awkward to hang on to her mare with her hands tied together but she clung on desperately as the thieves rode for hours at a fast pace. She wanted to stop to relieve herself, but refused to ask for even that boon. In spite of the danger on her fleeing horse, she felt safer than she would be if these men stopped and let her dismount. She knew all too well what they had planned for her. It was impossible for her not to. They taunted her cruelly with lewd remarks and graphic descriptions of the fate in store for her when they reached Gerrin.
Beauty was stricken with horror and desperation but, as fate would have it, there was something she didn’t know. Something that would have given her some hope. She never realized that Sir Gregory, her guard, was not dead. The moan she’d heard, the sound of a man’s death, wasn’t from Sir Gregory but from one of her attackers. Even bleeding as he was and fallen to the ground, Sir Gregory had managed to kill one of the thieves. The slain thief lay on the ground next to him, the knight’s sword still sticking through the man’s chest.
Sir Gregory had run the man through, then fallen still beside him. He kept his head and played dead until the band of thieves left. Once they were gone, bloody and badly injured, he dragged himself to his horse and struggled to mount. He grasped the stirrup and tried to pull himself up. Because he was so weakened by his injuries, he failed as he struggled to make it onto his horse. The animal ran off, heading towards the castle. Gregory sank back to the ground and lay there hoping that help would come from the castle and find him soon.
It was only a matter of a few minutes before some of castle guards found him, weak but hanging onto a thr
ead of life. Margaret had alerted the few remaining guards when Beauty and Sir Gregory failed to return for the midday meal. Sir Gregory’s horse, running into the barn without him, caused the guards to mount up and ride out in search of Beauty and Sir Gregory. Margaret rode out with them.
Luckily Margaret knew well Beauty’s favourite spots for finding the moss and herbs she used in her medicines, so she was able to direct the guards to the right area. The guards carefully carried Sir Gregory back to the castle and sent a messenger to tell the Beast what had happened.
Fate was with them for once and the messenger found the Beast and his men the next day. The Beast’s men were closing in on Gerrin and nearly ready to spring a trap. Although the news of Beauty’s capture left the Beast more terrified than he’d ever been in his life before, he had to keep his wits about him. Because of Beauty’s kidnapping, the Beast had to plan his strategy very carefully indeed.
Beauty had been dragged over the countryside almost continuously since her capture. When she was finally brought before Gerrin, she was weak with hunger and sick with fear. Her clothing was torn and filthy and her hair hung in a tangled mess. She turned her head and refused to look at Gerrin or even acknowledge his presence as he taunted her cruelly.
“So this bedraggled slut thinks she’s too good for the rest of us. Well I’ll show her what she’s good enough for,” he grabbed his crotch in a vulgar gesture, “before I kill her.”
He approached Beauty and began to reach for her. It was too much for Beauty; she felt sickened by hunger, fear and even the smell of Gerrin. As soon as his hands touched her skin she lost complete control and vomited all over him, completely voiding the contents of her stomach. Gerrin was enraged. He backhanded Beauty, sending her sprawling to the ground, and then backed off to remove his smelly, offensive tunic. Realizing that Gerrin was a coward at heart, Beauty decided to play on his ignorance and try to instil some fear into the villainous warrior.
“I’m sorry.” She faked a cough. “I cannot keep my food down lately.”
“You’re probably breeding the Beast’s bastard child,” Gerrin dismissed her. “That won’t stop me from having my pleasure of you. My greatest pleasure is the fear you sluts show when I begin marking you with my dagger.”
“Do I look like I’m breeding?” Beauty snapped, covering her fear with anger. “I’ve longed to give the Beast a child for ‘twould make my position with him ever more secure, ‘twould be my chance to become lady of the castle. I’ve been unsuccessful. Lately, I’ve been very ill, coughing and vomiting, a fever that comes and goes, terrible headaches. I fear the... ”
Beauty’s voice trailed off as she sank back weakly onto the hard ground. It was the hardest pretence of her life but she worked hard to keep up the illusion of a dreaded illness. Gerrin wasn’t fooled, but he also wasn’t sure. Rumours of plague and death had long since spread throughout the countryside and the illness was greatly feared.
For a while it was enough as Gerrin’s uncertainty and fear kept him off Beauty. She huddled into a tight ball, torn between shivering and fits of wracking coughs. Every time Gerrin came near her she vomited, aided partly by some of the very herbs she had gathered that morning. The repulsion of having her vomit on him every time he came within a foot of her certainly helped cool his perverted ardour. The fear that she may really be ill also stayed his hand. Disgusted with his prize captive he ordered her tied to the nearest tree, which made her feel somewhat relieved, at least temporarily. Beauty used the time well, praying and longing for the Beast, but also thinking and planning on how to save herself.
For countless days, the Beast and his men had been steadily closing in on the thieves. The news that Gerrin had taken Beauty roused them to even greater effort. The Beast’s men finally trapped Gerrin and his ragged band of followers in a place that left no chance of escape. The thieves had a swift river at their backs and a high stone cliff alongside them.
The Beast moved quickly and silently through the trees to find where Gerrin had Beauty. He went to his men and told them where she was tied.
“I need the archers to be very cautious. I want only my top archers to send their arrows to the right side of the camp, by the horses, where Beauty is tied up. The rest of you aim for the men as they come out of the tents.” The Beast was grim. “Watch that they do not move my lady closer to the fray. Beauty must be protected.”
At the Beast’s order, the archers let fly their arrows. Over and over, they notched their arrows and let them fly. Gerrin, Wolford and his men ran for cover, grabbing their swords and bows as they began to fight the Beast’s men. After countless arrows had downed many of Gerrin’s band of men, the Beast and his men approached the clearing, swords in hand. Gerrin stirred himself into action. He managed to avoid the rain of arrows and made his way over to where he had Beauty tied, knowing that was the safest place in camp to be. He grabbed Beauty and untied her from the tree they had her tethered to. He dragged her into the middle of the fray, holding a dagger to her throat.
Gerrin held Beauty with the dagger, just barely slicing her tender throat. He called out to the Beast, “Look lively, me fine lord! Hold your arrows lest ye wound yer slut! I’ll slice her throat if ye attack!”
When the Beast saw this he froze, his heart seemed to stop within his chest. “I know you, Gerrin!” he called back. “You will do many things to her, the least of which is slicing her throat if I let you live!”
“Then I will kill her now, just to get her off my hands so that I can kill you,” Gerrin growled. “Or let me get to a horse.”
Swallowing his pride, the Beast appeared to back down. He faced Gerrin and slowly, deliberately put down his sword. He cleared a path to the horses tied nearby; pushing his men and Gerrin’s out of the way even as the two factions fought relentlessly. His eyes never left Beauty’s face as he watched Gerrin practically toss her onto a mount with her hands still bound. He stood silently, waiting for that moment when Gerrin tried to mount, hoping that Beauty would be able to control her horse and get away. He wanted to signal Beauty but was unable to do more than meet her eyes.
Beauty landed on the horse on her stomach with an audible thud. Somehow she understood what the Beast was willing her to do. Struggling and manoeuvring, she managed to get herself astride the horse.
Around her the battle raged, and it was a fight to the death for all involved. The Beast’s mounted soldiers fought the thieves with either an axe, mace or broadsword. The sounds of battle filled the air. The terrible screaming of wounded and dying men and injured horses mingled with the clash and clang of weapons, sword against sword and sword against armour. Most of Gerrin’s men were killed in the long and bloodthirsty fight that followed.
Gerrin loosened his grip on Beauty for a mere instant. He was keeping an eye on the Beast while mounting his own steed. That was all it took. The Beast gave Beauty’s horse a mighty whack with the side of his sword and the mare jumped and began to run.
Feeling the horse beneath her tense, Beauty had also reacted instinctively. At the same time the Beast whacked the mare, she kicked the startled horse with all her might causing her to rear and kick at Gerrin who still held the reins. Gerrin fell back, the reins pulled from his grasp, and the Beast was on him in a second.
The poor horse bolted with Beauty struggling to stay astride him despite her bound hands. As the horse galloped through the thick brush and trees, Beauty felt the slap of branches against her face and the sharp sting as some of those same branches scratched her. She ducked her head and desperately held on as tightly as she could while her mount continued its frenzied run. The poor mare stumbled a few times but kept to her feet. She ran at breakneck pace, only slowing slightly for the stream. The mare jumped the very log where the Beast had used his belt on Beauty. Still Beauty hung on, grasping a handful of the mare’s mane even with her hands bound.
Summoning all her courage, she leaned forward along the horse’s neck and tried to speak slowly and calmly in the horse’s ear. It had littl
e effect on the steed’s mad panic. ’Twas only luck that kept her mount from falling, killing them both.
Behind her, in the clearing, the Beast and Gerrin fought desperately and viciously. Both men were fairly equally skilled and both managed to hold off the other. Gerrin lost his sword yet fought on armed with only his dagger. As they fought, Gerrin managed to grab a sword from the ground near a fallen man. Soon he managed to disarm the Beast, sending his sword flying.
Desperate to defeat Gerrin and go to the rescue of Beauty, the Beast managed to find another fallen thief and do the same as Gerrin had, wrenching the sword from the thief’s dead hand.
The battle continued in earnest. It was almost as if the two were alone in the clearing while around them the soldiers and thieves fought a vicious battle. The thieves were fighting for their lives, but with fewer weapons and less training, they were slowly being beaten down.
The Beast had his full attention trained on Gerrin until he heard the clash of a sword very close to his head. He soon became aware that Tom had stepped in and prevented one of Gerrin’s men from stabbing him in the back. The Beast almost tripped over the wounded and fallen thief but Tom quickly attacked Gerrin. He distracted the former guard while the Beast regained his footing. The Beast recovered his balance and once again engaged Gerrin, this time with Tom guarding his back.
One by one the thieves died, felled beneath the arrows and swords of the Beast’s men. As the battle waned, several of the Beast’s soldiers raced to their horses and gave chase to Beauty’s horse. Although she was helpless to stop her horse’s deadly run with her hands still tied, eventually the horse tired and slowed enough for one of the Beast’s men to catch the mare and rescue Beauty.
