The Princess & the Gargoyle

by Mireille Pavane

  ‘Good evening,’ said the beast. ‘I am Melchior.’

  His remaining eye glowed in the dimly lit darkness of the dungeon.

  The princess did not move.

  ‘Come out of your prison, Beatrice,’ said the beast. ‘I promise I will not eat you.’

  The beast held out his hand. It was larger than a man’s hand and looked almost safe, like a lion’s paw with his claws retracted.

  ‘We must hurry,’ said the beast.

  ‘Why do you want the jewel?’ asked the princess.

  ‘I promised you I would help you escape,’ said the beast. ‘I keep my promises.’

  When the beast moved aside from the doorway, the princess followed him out from her cell.

  The princess and the beast left the dungeons. The beast moved stealthily through the winding corridors and concealed passages and vast colonnaded halls of the subterranean palace with an unerring sense of direction, and the princess followed him—his stern, formidable, silent silhouette—without demur. He did not lead her to a heavily guarded treasury but rather to a deserted inner courtyard in the centre of which stood a tree bearing stone fruit. The beast went to the tree, reached up to the uppermost branch and plucked a stone plum. He offered the fruit to the princess who looked back questioningly at the beast.

  ‘You braved many perils in seeking this,’ whispered the beast.

  He showed the fruit to the princess. In his palm, the stone plum transformed into a clear, heavy jewel.

  ‘Why is it not guarded?’ exclaimed the astonished princess, keeping her voice low.

  ‘Only I know of its hiding place,’ said the beast.

  ‘Why?’ asked the princess.

  ‘I hid the jewel here for safekeeping before I was arrested,’ replied the beast. ‘My life would have been forfeit long ago if it had been discovered.’

  As the beast spoke, his voice became stronger, his body straighter, and his many scars and wounds seemed to grow lighter and vanish. The beast stretched and unfurled his magnificent wings. Only the damaged right eye remained as a reminder of his sufferings.

  Princess Beatrice could not hide her amazement.

  ‘Come,’ said the beast. ‘We must—’

  Shouts echoed towards the courtyard. Running footsteps and the movement of air beating in rhythmic waves, approaching them, indicated that the kingdom’s sentries loyal to Lord Godric were in pursuit, on foot and on wings.

  The beast grabbed the princess’ hand and pulled her under the cover of the cloisters. He would not risk taking to the air with her and being sighted by Lord Godric’s winged guards. They ran back into the twisting, shadowy passages.

  The pursuing footsteps grew louder and closer and greater in number. When the beast saw flames lick through the air above, he knew they were surrounded. He changed direction and drew the princess down another corridor.

  ‘Are we heading back to the dungeons?’ gasped the princess, recognising familiar portals and arches.

  ‘Hurry,’ answered the beast.

  The dungeons were empty of sentinels. All the guards had been summoned to the palace to join in the pursuit of the escaped prisoners.

  As the beast and the princess entered the dungeons, they heard the clamour of the sentries above, drawing near.

  The beast took the princess’ hand and placed the jewel in her palm.

  ‘Do not allow this jewel to leave your care,’ said the beast.

  ‘No!’ cried the princess.

  The beast handed her the dungeon keys he had earlier taken from the night guardsman and pushed her towards the lower dungeons.

  ‘Find the tunnel,’ he told the princess. ‘Run. Do not look back.’

  ‘No,’ said the princess, firmly.

  ‘Very well. Keep the jewel safe until I come for it,’ said the beast.

  ‘Soon? Do you promise?’ asked the princess.

  ‘Yes,’ said the beast. ‘Now go.’

  ‘Very well,’ said the princess.

  Then the beast turned, owning his full height, unsheathed his talons and spread his wings in war-like form, and ran to meet the ambush waiting at the entrance to the dungeons.

  Escape from the Black Mountain

  Princess Beatrice ran to the beast’s dungeon cell, crept through the bars, found the hidden trapdoor and pulled the trapdoor aside. She lowered herself down into the recess and pulled the stone slab back into place. She crawled inside the narrow tunnel and waited.

  The beast never came.

  The princess waited and waited and waited. The darkness above her was silent and still. Nobody returned to the dungeons.

  The princess was afraid to risk venturing out of the trapdoor prematurely and, thinking that the beast had been delayed, she continued to wait in the darkness of the tunnel, boiling with impatience for being denied a chance to help the beast and wondering what harm might have befallen him.

  Princess Beatrice was woken up by the soft growling of her stomach. She had fallen asleep and had lost count of how long she had been waiting in the tunnel.

  The dungeon above her remained silent.

  With a heavy heart, Princess Beatrice clambered up and returned along the tunnel. She had a dreadful moment of indecision at the parting of the way as to the best course of action: to take the other tunnels to search for the beast in the city of stone, or return to the cave, roll aside the boulder, and leave the Black Mountain? Finally, she decided to leave the Black Mountain and head home for Trasimene. There was a better chance of success in helping the beast if she hurried home quickly and brought reinforcements back from Trasimene to the kingdom of the Black Mountain than if she went to search for him, alone and weaponless.

  At the cave’s entrance, she had another bitter moment of indecision: if she had not promised the beast, if she had not been given the jewel to safeguard, if she had not a duty to the kingdom of Trasimene, if she had not promised her sister Cristabel...

  I must hurry home so that I can hurry back to help, thought the princess as she pushed the boulder at the mouth of the cave to one side and walked into the ebony night.

  The journey home to Trasimene was the longest one that she had ever undertaken.

  After Princess Beatrice had rolled the boulder back into place, she tried to retrace her way back down the mountain by memory, facing once more the treacherous footing and broken boulders and rocky crags that took on menacing shapes, hoping she would find the clear spring again. The landscape and wilderness looked different in the night. She was careful to move in the shadows of the trees and shrubbery in case there were gargoyles sent out by Lord Godric searching the perimeters of the mountain. She tried not to think of what wild creatures might also lurk in the shadows. As she walked and climbed, the princess wondered what had happened to the beast and what was happening back in the kingdom of Trasimene. She tried to will herself to forget her thirst and hunger.

  It was a lonely journey down the mountain in the surrounding darkness relieved only by the starlight sifting through the clouds and weighted heavily with the thoughts of the dangers attending others. The jewel felt almost weightless in her pocket but its presence eased her heart’s disquiet for as long as she kept it safe, it guaranteed that the beast’s life would be spared and it promised the salvation of the kingdom of Trasimene.

  Princess Beatrice walked until the sun rose. She was grateful that she had not run across any unfriendly wild animals or gargoyles from the Black Mountain during the night. Using the sun as a guide, she continued travelling southward bound, avoiding the main roads and human dwellings and areas where soldiers were likely to be encamped. She tried to make good time by keeping up a steady pace during the daylight hours, safe from patrols of marauding gargoyles, even though her hunger and thirst grew. She drank the morning dewdrops collected on leaves to relieve the worst of her thirst and thought longingly of wild sloes and blackberries when she could not find any wild mushrooms that she could recognise as edible. She spent the second night sleeping cradled in the spreading b
ranches of a tall sycamore tree and set off again at daybreak.

  Princess Beatrice travelled for three days and nights.

  On the morning of the fourth day, Princess Beatrice was coming out of a woodland into an open field when she heard the sound of an approaching party on horseback. She ran back into the woods and climbed up the tree with the thickest branches and densest canopy. She crouched on the tree branch and kept still and listened.

  The princess heard the sound of horses below passing along the forest floor through the path between the tree trunks. She thought the danger of discovery had passed when the small party rode briskly past her tree, appearing to be oblivious to her presence—until the sound of a dog barking echoed through the woods. The barking came closer to the trunk of her tree and became more excited, attracting the attention of the rest of the party who circled back and clustered below her tree.

  ‘Gryff! What have you found, Gryff?’ said a familiar voice.

  Princess Beatrice poked her head down through the leafy boughs. Then she climbed back down the tree to greet the dog, Gryff, and the party of riders.

  Sir Liam, Lady Sophia, and Lord Peregrine’s son, Sir Edmund, bowed to the princess and hastened to offer her water and food from their saddlebags.

  ‘When Thunderbolt arrived at the abbey with the mother and son seeking refuge, the Mother Superior sent word to her Highness Princess Cristabel, and Princess Cristabel secretly sent out rescue parties to find you, your Highness,’ said Sir Liam.

  ‘We divided up the territories between Trasimene and the Black Mountain with Sirs Thomas and David and the Ladies Lucy and Megan who have also been out scouring the land for your Highness,’ said Sir Edmund. ‘A rumour was put about that your Highness had gone in search of the oracle and had lost your way.’

  ‘Gryff would not be left behind,’ said Lady Sophia.

  ‘I am very glad to see you all,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘We must hurry back to the capital. And then we must hurry back to the Black Mountain with a very large rescue party.’

  ‘Who requires rescuing from the Black Mountain, your Highness?’ asked Sir Edmund.

  ‘A gargoyle,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  The princess climbed onto the back of Lady Sophia’s horse and the party travelled back to the capital of Trasimene.

  On the main road, as the party neared the capital and recognised the familiar spires on the horizon, they saw villagers and travellers and passers-by wearing mourning.

  Princess Beatrice’s heart filled with misgivings.

  They hurried to the capital and to the royal castle.

  When King Theobald saw Princess Beatrice riding up to the castle, he left his retinue and ran down the castle steps to embrace her.

  ‘Father,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘Thank the heavens you are safe,’ said the grieving king. ‘You are all I have left now, Beatrice.’

  Homecoming

  Three days prior, Princess Cristabel had ridden out with a party of knights to answer a call for help from a village in the north-east beset by a raiding party of winged beasts. Prince Xavier had joined his betrothed’s expedition, bolstering the force of her party with his own soldiers.

  The battle had been fierce and brutal, diminishing the numbers on both sides. While the combined Trasimenean and Ossaian forces were prevailing by the use of unpredictable feint and attack stratagems under Princess Cristabel’s command, the princess and Prince Xavier were lured away from the main battle to pursue the fleeing leader of the raiding party.

  The troops found Prince Xavier cradling Princess Cristabel’s body beside a brook.

  Nobody could be certain what had happened. Princess Cristabel’s trusted honour guard of knights had not been by her side because she had sent them out that very morning to find her sister, Princess Beatrice. It was suggested that something must have surprised or terrified Princess Cristabel’s horse so much that it had reared and thrown off its rider and bolted, and that Princess Cristabel had broken her neck in the fall. Her body had been found by Prince Xavier upon finally catching up with Princess Cristabel who had ridden on ahead furiously in pursuit of the leader of the raiding party, Lothaire, the same beast who had escaped the Sanguineto Ravine. Prince Xavier thought the winged beast must have reappeared suddenly and startled the princess’ horse.

  Princess Cristabel’s horse, Midnight—like the wild boar roaming the forest of Ermengard—was never found.

  With a kingdom under attack by the winged beasts of the Black Mountain and having lost two daughters and with a third daughter missing, whereabouts unknown until only recently, King Theobald had been disconsolate.

  How strange that such an accident should have befallen Cristabel and the stalwart mare, Midnight, who had borne her sister safely out of the Sanguineto Ravine with a raging inferno and an entire host of vengeful winged beasts on her tail, thought Princess Beatrice.

  The princess kept her thoughts to herself. She tried to swallow her grief and dismay and despair to comfort and console her father.

  By the accident of fate which had taken away her sisters, she was now King Theobald’s sole heir.

  I must do my duty, thought the princess.

  In a private audience with the king, Princess Beatrice told her father about her journey to the kingdom of the Black Mountain and all that she had seen and met there.

  ‘You brought back the jewel that would protect our kingdom?’ asked the king in wonder.

  ‘Knowledge about my journey to the Black Mountain and that I have the jewel must be kept a secret, father. There are many who would seek to steal it,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘Does it have the power to protect the kingdom as the oracle foretold?’ asked the king.

  ‘I do not know, father,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘You must guard it carefully,’ said the king. ‘The jewel may yet reveal its magic.’

  The princess wished that fate had not required the exchange of a sister for a magical jewel.

  ‘I hold it in trust for someone who needs our help, father,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘If you would allow me a company of knights, Sir Liam and Sir Edmund and I will ride out directly while Ladies Megan and—’

  ‘Beatrice,’ said the king. ‘You are all that I and this kingdom have left. And you are now also guardian of this jewel. We cannot spare you.’

  ‘But,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘We cannot abandon him, father.’

  ‘Do you believe this gargoyle to be truly different from the beasts who have been attacking our kingdom?’ asked the king.

  ‘I trust his deeds, father, and I must keep my promise,’ said Princess Beatrice, gazing up at the gargoyles carved into the edifice of the castle.

  ‘There is already a scarcity of troops guarding and defending our kingdom. Our defences are spread thin even with our Ossaian allies stationed across the land. You will find it difficult to find spare men to make up a rescue party, Beatrice,’ said the king.

  ‘So long as I have your leave to do so, father, I will find a way,’ said the princess.

  ‘There is another consideration. Even if you were to find the men, it will not be quite so easy to lead your company on this mission to save a gargoyle of the Black Mountain kingdom now that Trasimene and Ossaia stand joined against the Black Mountain. Prince Xavier will not be pleased,’ said the king.

  ‘But the prince does not rule Trasimene,’ said the princess.

  ‘We still need the truce that comes of the alliance with Ossaia,’ said the king. ‘I cannot be seen to be openly defying Ossaia if the prince objects.’

  ‘Oh,’ said the princess. ‘Prince Xavier need never know.’

  ‘The king of Trasimene cannot be seen to be openly defying or conspiring against the crown prince of Ossaia,’ said the king.

  ‘I understand, father,’ said the princess.

  Princess Beatrice went to the abbey of Ermengard.

  ‘My sisters were accomplished and kind and loving and loved. They led armies and he
lped our father, the king, rule and defend this kingdom,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘How can I ever step into their shoes?’

  ‘Honour is purchased by the deeds we do,’ said the Mother Superior.

  The princess went to see Sir Hugo and the generals.

  ‘This course of action is by royal decree of his Majesty, the king?’ asked Sir Hugo.

  ‘Yes,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘His Royal Highness Prince Xavier called for war and a greater show of might and mustering of more forces to vanquish the beasts of the Black Mountain,’ said Lord Trecombe.

  ‘Prince Xavier expresses his grief,’ said the princess. ‘I speak of practical matters in the interests of the defence and preservation of our kingdom of Trasimene.’

  ‘It shall be done as you wish, your Highness,’ said Lord Moncrieffe.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘Your royal sister, the late Princess Cristabel made similar arrangements,’ said Lord Moncrieffe.

  ‘My sister?’ said the princess.

  ‘Her Highness Princess Cristabel did not trust the friendship extended by Prince Xavier to Trasimene,’ said Sir Hugo.

  ‘Oh,’ said Princess Beatrice, unable to stifle a tiny, fraught gesture of her hands.

  ‘After the joint councils of war, the late Princess Cristabel used to go for a stroll in the gardens favoured by the late Princess Alexandra,’ said Sir Hugo.

  ‘The shade of the linden grove was a popular place to rest, secluded from spying eyes, your Highness,’ said Lord Rinaldo.

  ‘I wonder if Prince Xavier ever suspected,’ said Princess Beatrice.

  ‘If your Highness has no other countermanding instructions?’ said Lord Falconridge.

  ‘I shall send word the next time I take a stroll in the linden grove,’ said Princess Beatrice.