by Susan Kohler
The guards gently untied her hands and helped her from the panting horse. Although they wanted to take Beauty straight back to the safety of the castle, she insisted on being taken forthwith to the Beast. One of the guards held her small, trembling body in front of him as he rode slowly back to the clearing where the battle still raged.
Finally, only two men were still fighting, a fight that was terrible in its intensity. Gerrin faced the Beast with the knowledge that only one of them would survive. Gerrin fought as if he were possessed by demons. The clash of the two men’s broadswords continued long after the rest of the sounds of battle faded. The two men had to stumble over the bodies of the fallen and injured men as they battled each other.
It took all the skill and fury the Beast possessed but finally Gerrin was captured, badly injured, but still alive. The guards reached the clearing in time to see Gerrin’s capture. They got there just as Gerrin dropped to the ground. He was unconscious and bleeding from the head. In spite of her ordeal, Beauty jumped from her horse and flung herself into the Beast’s arms, kissing him passionately and joyfully, heedless of the watching men.
The Beast and his men searched through the bodies, quickly and efficiently killing the injured thieves and binding the wounds of their own wounded. They helped the wounded soldiers mount.
Tom looked through the dead and dying searching for a face he had not seen. “Beast!” he called out sharply. “I cannot find Wolford. I think he may have escaped.”
“He always was a bit of a coward,” the Beast replied. “He always looks for a way out for himself. He is still a danger, as long as he lives.”
“We will have to hunt him down then,” Tom said, “or Beauty will never be safe.”
“We will,” the Beast agreed, “but I doubt he will be found. I think he will leave the area and never return.”
“Are you sure, M’lord?” Tom asked.
“Nay, and we will search for him,” the Beast sighed, “but the main danger is done. Wolford will never be able to raise a force like this. Gerrin had a rough charm, as he could pull people into his plans. Wolford is a follower. A vicious scum but a follower, not a leader like Gerrin.”
The Beast had wanted to capture Gerrin alive to be taken back to face the angry villagers. He well knew and respected their thirst for revenge. He tied Gerrin’s unconscious body to a horse and they rode back to the castle. Along the way, the former guard regained a semblance of consciousness. He was tossed into a dungeon for the short time he had left to live.
Beauty’s mother took care of her, tending to the myriad scratches and bruises that covered her face and body. She moaned over each injury but rejoiced that there was nothing worse. No broken bones, no rape. Gently she and Gwyneth helped Beauty bathe and dress. Gwyneth took her time, gently combing out the worst of the tangles in Beauty’s hair and pulling the rest into a snood at the nape of her neck.
By the time Gerrin was held in front of the angry mob, he was dazed but aware of his surroundings. He wavered but stood in front of the crowd while the Beast pronounced his sentence for murder and treason. Hearing his sentence, Gerrin broke down and begged for the mercy of the axe, but the Beast denied him that mercy. He coldly ordered the doomed man to be drawn and quartered. Beauty stood by his side, her battered face impassive as the Beast gave the command.
Before the terrible sentence could be carried out, Gerrin managed to wrench himself free from the guards holding him and tried to throw himself to his death from the castle wall. His cowardice was apparent to all who witnessed it. It was to no avail, as he was quickly recaptured and led to the gallows. As he was hanged, Beauty felt slightly ill but she watched the execution without flinching. No one but the Beast knew that she closed her eyes as he was taken down from the gallows, still barely alive, to be hacked into quarters. The bloody pieces of his body were left hanging from the castle walls, his head on a spike. Seeing how pale the sight made Beauty, the Beast vowed to have them removed as soon as possible. The remains would be fed to the pigs; there would be no decent funeral for Gerrin.
After Gerrin died his gruesome death, the mob slowly thinned out and the villagers and soldiers gradually went back to their everyday lives. Beauty, Nate, Tom and her mother sat in the great room and had a tearful reunion.
Beauty was greatly relieved to learn that the guard, Sir Gregory, had survived his injuries. She apologized to him for her stubbornness in going to the woods and putting him at risk.
The guards were sent to catch the few remaining thieves, a pitiful few who had managed to get away. Gradually peace was restored to the castle.
Things in the village also returned to normal. Most of the villagers’ thoughts soon turned to the upcoming harvest and fair. Many of them had never been to a fair, although the elder villagers vaguely remembered having regular fairs when the old lord held the castle. All the villagers looked forward to the event, as it would be a momentous break in their dreary routines.
Many times during the following days Beauty wanted to get a private moment with the Beast to discuss the pronouncement he’d made before the crowd, but her efforts seemed to be thwarted.
The Beast was always busy, trying to restore things to normal at the castle. Beauty herself was busy with the running of the household. She was also recovering from the various scratches and bruises she had accumulated during her ordeal, but luckily none were severe enough to cause any scarring. By the time they reached their bedchamber every night, they were both too exhausted for any discussion.
Beauty longed to have that private discussion with the Beast. She was overjoyed and overwhelmed by his declaration of love, yet she wanted something more. Public announcements were one thing, and she loved hearing the words from the Beast, but she greatly desired a more private and intimate conversation with him.
She was ready to admit her love for the Beast, to herself, to him and to the world at large, but the Beast seemed to be avoiding her, almost as if he regretted what he’d said to the mob. She was happy to hear him shout his love for her aloud, but for the first time in a long time she felt a deep craving for something more. Something much more personal and romantic. At the same time, she also wanted the open and public relationship to be made permanent, to be sanctioned by the law, the King and the church. Damned be it, she thought to herself, what I want is a real marriage.
Beauty went to her mother and Gwyneth separately to discuss this but neither of the two women were much help. Gwyneth, busy as always helping the cook prepare the evening meal, just advised her to be patient. It was not the answer Beauty wanted as her patience was already wearing much too thin.
Beauty spoke with Margaret in the garden the next day. It was her mother’s favourite spot. Margaret wanted Beauty to scheme to catch the Beast. She suggested several plans but none of the schemes were agreeable to Beauty, her nature being much more open and honest.
“Then if you’re so open and honest, Beauty, tell him the truth!” Margaret raved, never at a loss for words. “Tell him everything!”
“I want him to marry me for who I am, not a worthless title and dowry,” Beauty replied. “I want him to marry me for love.”
“So? Who marries for love anyway? Love comes later, if it comes at all. I never met your father before the wedding. I never even saw him. It was just through God’s mercy that I ever came to truly love him.” Margaret took a deep breath. “So? You won’t trick the Beast and you won’t tell him the truth, what else is there? Your pride gets in your way, Beauty. Would you rather have the Beast as a husband warming your bed, or your pride? Think on it. Patience hasn’t worked. You refuse to tell him the truth and you don’t want to trick him. What’s left? You could try to make him jealous but there’s no one around who would make a worthy rival.”
“I wouldn’t resort to such a petty trick anyway,” Beauty grinned ruefully, remembering. “Besides, as I recall, every time he gets jealous, I wind up face down across his knees getting spanked like a child. Then I’m unable to sit down for a very
long time.”
“At least he can control your wayward nature,” her mother murmured.
“Thank you so much for the kind thought, Mother!” Beauty murmured with a trace of sarcasm but she smiled openly at the memory. “Although he gets very passionate afterwards. He almost makes the spanking worth it.”
“So he has been jealous before?” Margaret tried to put the picture of an extraordinarily passionate Beast firmly out of her mind. “There’s one last way, Beauty, one last thing to try. You could give him a child.”
“Let’s turn the talk to you, Mother. What’s this between you and Seth?” Beauty quickly distracted her mother, wanting to avoid this topic. “He’s always at your side these days and you always seem to be smiling at him.”
“He’s just an old friend,” Margaret pointed out, “as you well know, that’s all it can be. He has no station and no rank. How can I marry him after the love I had for your father?”
“Who mentioned marriage?” Beauty asked surprised as she studied her mother, seeing her blush like a young girl.
Castle life had well agreed with Margaret. The melancholia that had held her in its grip for years had disappeared and her health was now fully restored. Gone completely was the haggard and frail woman who had first come to the castle. The peace she felt now that life was more secure again was reflected in her entire being. The joy she received from being near her children and the pleasure she received from nagging the Beast now shone in her face.
The woman standing next to Beauty was now a beauty herself. She had the same colouring as Beauty, although her eyes were a little paler shade of blue and there was a touch of grey in her blond hair. In spite of the fact that her eldest child had reached his twentieth year, she was still shy of forty. She was dressed in a satin gown of sky blue, with a low cut neck. Her figure was still good, although just a little thicker than Beauty’s. Her gown was trimmed with seed pearls and dark blue velvet ribbons, ecru lace and an ecru linen under slip completed the outfit. She looked stunning, Beauty thought, and in love.
“I mean... ” Margaret was flustered and blushed like a young maiden.
She turned her face away and pretended to study a rose bush.
“Do you love him?” Beauty probed.
“I’m too old for such nonsense,” Margaret answered slowly, evasively. “I guess you think I’m a just silly old woman.”
Beauty gave a rather unladylike snort. “You are neither silly nor old! And that did not answer my question. Do you love Seth?”
“Yea,” Margaret admitted, still blushing shyly as she picked up a pink rosebud. “Of course not with the fire and passion I felt for your father, but I do love him with a different passion.”
“Then marry him, with the blessing of all your children. I know our father would have approved.” Beauty hugged her mother. “He always wanted you to have whatever made you happy, did he not?”
“There’s a small problem though,” Margaret told her daughter, hugging her back. “He’s afraid to admit his love for me because of my rank.”
“Men!” Beauty exclaimed. “How can they be so stupid?”
“I’ll tell you what, my daughter,” Margaret said laughing and hugging her daughter, “I’ll work on getting my stubborn, stupid man to the altar and you do the same with your stupid, stubborn man.”
“And then we’ll go to work on Tom,” Beauty laughed.
“And then we’ll work on Tom,” Margaret agreed, “who might turn out to be the stupidest and most stubborn man of them all.”
“At least Nate looks like he’s not going to be so difficult,” Beauty sighed. “He already knows how to love.”
“Nate has a good heart under all that bluster and fooling around,” Margaret said softly hugging her daughter. “He’s a lot like you in that respect.”
Chapter Twelve
One day, about a week after Gerrin’s capture and execution, a royal messenger arrived at the castle, having been sent there by the King. The messenger was a well-known knight named Sir Richard. He travelled with the full complement of squires, guards and retainers, all clad in matching tunics with his emblem emblazoned on them and carrying colourful pennants. Their mounts were groomed to perfection and the metal from their bridles and the soldier’s shields all gleamed in the bright sun. It was an impressive and stirring sight. His arrival caused quite a bustle in the castle. Rooms were aired out and beds prepared. Servants, who had barely recovered from the recent events and stress of trying to take care of the villagers, were once again running about trying to cook, clean and care for the knight, his men at arms and his other followers.
When Sir Richard was first brought before Beauty, she was startled. She had to admit to herself that he was one of the most extremely handsome men she had ever seen. He was quite young, several years younger than the Beast, and he had golden blond hair just long enough to reach his collar. He was trim with a firm, taut build and he had warm, brown eyes. His manner was polite and refined, and he had a warm sense of humour. In short, he was everything she had dreamed about when she was an innocent young girl. He embodied the man who had been her romantic fantasy long before she ever met the Beast. He was handsome, courteous, rich, titled and intelligent, with a warm sense of humour and famed for his valour. She liked him as a man and as a friend, but romantically he left her unmoved. She looked to the Beast and smiled with secret amusement.
Sir Richard was unaware of her reaction. He was instantly smitten with Beauty. Everything about her, her face, figure, hair and eyes fit his ideal of the perfect woman. Her personality intrigued him. He admired her warmth, patience and gentle humour while realizing that she possessed intelligence rare in a woman, or a man for that matter. To Sir Richard, Beauty was a perfect jewel with the heart of a woman. He took one look at the Beast’s manner with Beauty, how he stood nearby her, how he seemed to be aware of everything about her even when he was talking to someone else, his air of protectiveness and even almost ownership, and sighed to himself. This woman would have to be a valued friend, and only a friend.
The Beast and Sir Richard had a long, private meeting. It seemed the King not only had several messages for the Beast, but he was checking up on him in a rare sign of concern. In a seemingly casual manner, Sir Richard examined the castle and grounds, questioned the staff and met with Margaret, Gwyneth and Seth. He even talked long and hard with Nate, Claire and Tom.
He seemed very interested in how well the Beast handled his dealings with the people with whom he was in daily contact. Sir Richard was particularly interested in how the Beast had grown into his role as the ruler of the castle and the surrounding lands and village. Sir Richard even rode through the village and countryside and spoke with several of the peasants, including Tom Two.
He gave the Beast several messages from the King, but following instructions, he held one special letter back to be delivered at a later date. A unique and very personal missive from the King.
After Sir Richard delivered his initial messages to the Beast and had finished his many conversations with the rest of the castle inhabitants, he began to follow Beauty around the castle. To the Beast’s consternation, the knight seemed to be constantly trying to get Beauty alone, away from the Beast, and even away from the castle’s many servants. It was an effort of which the Beast most assuredly did not approve.
From the Beast’s observations, Beauty certainly didn’t seem to mind the attention either. To the contrary, she seemed to fully enjoy Sir Richard’s companionship. The two were often seen talking and laughing with each other. A fact that Margaret took great delight in pointing out to the Beast. Beauty’s mother deliberately nurtured the Beast’s already budding jealousy, bringing it into full bloom.
Finally the Beast was so enraged that he went to the training field where Sir Richard’s men were practicing along with his own soldiers and began to practice his swordsmanship, working long and hard to the point of exhaustion. Finally, when his angry energy was spent and the edge was off his temper, he lef
t the practice fields. He wanted to find Sir Richard and Beauty. God help the knight if he was alone with Beauty, the Beast fumed storming up to the castle. He vaguely wondered why Sir Richard himself wasn’t training with his men. He thought sourly to himself, didn’t knights have an obligation to keep in shape, to be battle ready?
After a fruitless search through the castle and the grounds, the Beast headed back to the training field where his guards were still fencing with Sir Richard’s men.
Tom was engaged in swordplay with one of Sir Richard’s guards. The young guard fighting Tom was of fairly short stature with a slender frame. The smaller guard was wearing a helmet and metal breastplate. The guard made up for his smaller size by displaying a very fierce and relentless fighting spirit.
When the Beast came over, Tom broke away from the short guard. He saw the look on the Beast’s face and took pity on the man. He told the Beast that Beauty and Sir Richard had gone for a ride in the forest several hours earlier. The Beast instantly had his horse saddled and went in search of the pair.
The Beast never looked at the guard with whom Tom had been practicing. He never noticed that the small guard stared after him as he rode away, stared long and hard. Indeed, he had taken no notice at all of the small, slender guard. He should have. He would have been shocked to his bones if he had.
The Beast’s fiery temper faded while he searched in vain for Beauty and the knight, but deep inside a spark of fear remained. A tiny trace of fear that he refused to admit or examine. The fear that he held Beauty only by force and by her vow to him and not by her own true choice. The fear that he would not be the one she would have freely picked to be with. He only knew that he desperately wanted to find Beauty and Sir Richard.
