by Boyd Brent
The Captain had not lied about his ship. It was the largest in the dock, with a mast that towered high above the others. Once the men had deposited the crate on the deck, they set to work, raising the sail.
When we sailed from port, I was standing beside the Captain at the ship's wheel. “How long will it take us to reach the cove?” I said, glancing over my shoulder at the crate.
“No more than a couple of days, the winds be willing.” The Captain, mindful of my interest in the crate, said, “It doesn't actually have the crown jewels in it, does it?”
“Ah, no.”
“Whatever is in it, you should know that the men will not carry it to those caves nor anywhere near 'em.”
“They need only carry it to a place where I might open it in private.”
“Right, you are,” he replied, sounding more than a little intrigued by the crate's contents.
“Thank you for helping me and being so understanding.”
“You can save yer thanks till I've delivered you and yer cargo safe and sound to yer destination,” he said, drawing a shaky hand across his brow.
Diary entry no. 21
I am happy to report that the first 24hrs of our journey passed without incident. The winds were favourable and carried us across that vast gulf of water towards the distant mountains at a good speed. My cabin below deck was spacious, and my bed comfortable enough to make me feel more than little guilty about the Beast inside the crate. The next morning, I went up on deck to discover the Captain occupied by a chart, and the crew busy tending the rigging. I moseyed over to the crate and, looking nonchalantly out to sea, tapped my fingers on it. I listened for a tapped reply. None came. But, comforted by the thought that the Beast could break free of his confinement at any time, I felt reassured enough to return to my cabin.
It was when I returned to the deck at dusk that I felt a terrible sense of foreboding. I had intended to stand beside the crate and watch the sun set but noticed that the ship’s wheel had been abandoned. It swung back and forth with the passing of the current upon the rudder. I moved swiftly to steady it, but such was the violence of its swings; I thought the better of doing so. The winds picked up, causing the sail to billow and flap above me. I gazed up, eager to see the two of three crew members who usually tended it. “Where is everyone …” I murmured. As though in answer to my question, the door that led below to the Captain’s cabin burst open and the Captain came stumbling out. He crashed down upon the deck before me, his face horribly beaten. “I'm sorry …” he mouthed up at me. I was suddenly aware that the crew had gathered around me.
“What is the meaning of this?” I cried.
“Well, it’s like this pretty,” said one, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look into his leering eyes. “We had ourselves a vote and …” I felt myself being spun about whereupon another of the rogues grasped my hair and, having brought his scarred face close to my own, said, “And the upshot of our vote is this: it’s too risky goin’ so close to 'em caves …” Again, I was manhandled around by another of the crew who added, “But the Captain 'ere would 'ere nothing of our concerns …. and left us little option but to mutiny …” I was spun about again to face the original rogue who added with relish, “which means we'll have to throw him overboard for the sharks to feed on!”
“But you can’t!” I protested.
“This is a mutiny, and we’ll do as we please, Missy. You see anybody around who can stop us?” Such was the bloodlust in their eyes that I crouched over the Captain to shield him. I must have looked rather comical, for they laughed at me.
“And then there’s the matter of them crown jewels …” said the rogue with the scar on his face.
“What crown jewels?” I asked.
They all gazed in the direction of the crate at the ship’s stern.
“No! There’s nothing of value in there if that’s why you’re doing this.”
“We’ll be the judge of that,” said one as he raised a crowbar and led the others to the crate. The men had no need of their crowbar, as the next moment, I heard the splintering of wood, followed by a terrifying roar, as the Beast made himself known. The Captain, having glanced in their direction, pulled my face down onto his chest. “Don’t look …” he breathed as he watched the spectacle with ever-widening eyes. The yells, shrieks and cries that followed were punctuated by several loud splashes, six to be precise, whereupon the Captain released his grip on me. I jumped to my feet, and seeing the Beast’s heavy breathing silhouette against the moonlit sea, I ran to him. The Beast opened his arms and, drawing me up in them, said, “Have no fear. The danger has passed.” As soon as he put me down, I ran to the boat’s stern. “… You have thrown them all overboard?”
“I have,” replied the Beast, joining me. “Which is no more than they deserved.” The boat was moving slowly through the choppy water, and I caught sight of the men splashing about in the distance. I looked up at the Beast. “We can’t just let them drown.”
“As I said, it’s no more than they deserve.” I noticed that the Beast's tunic was torn, and his shoulder was bleeding. “You’re hurt …” I said, taking a handkerchief from my pocket and holding it against his wound.
“It’s nothing …” said the Beast quietly, “I suppose you’re right about the crew,” he sighed.
“So, we go back and pick them up?”
“Absolutely not. There are limits …” He leaned over the back of the boat and untied a lifeboat that hung there. It crashed down into the sea, and the crew, clearly strong swimmers, splashed their way towards it.
“It’s more kindness than I would have shown them rascals, and I'm a …” came the voice of the Captain from behind us. Over his shoulder, the Beast said, “And you are what? A man?”
We turned to face the Captain whose troubled gaze found me. “I’m hoping and praying that this creature is a friend of yours?” he said.
“Rest assured; he is the very best of friends. Captain, may I present the Beast; Beast, this is the Captain.”
“The Captain has been badly beaten,” observed the Beast, “I suggest you tend to his wounds.”
“It’s nought but a couple of scratches,” replied the Captain. “So, Mr Beast …”
“It's just Beast.”
“Well then, Beast, it will not have escaped your attention that we recently lost our crew.”
The Beast looked up at the sail, billowing and flapping in the wind. “It had not.”
“You’ve proven that you have the strength of six men, but do you also have their know-how?”
The Beast gestured to the ship’s wheel with his chin. “You take the helm, Captain, and leave the rest to me.”
The Captain winked at me. “That is music to my ears,” he said, heading for the wheel.
Journal entry no. 22
I went to bed early, and to my immense delight, I heard laughter from the deck above. It had been a long time since the Beast had made a new friend, and at the sound of it, my own spirits must have risen as much as his. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, a smile that vanished as I entered a dream state. I was standing on a high ridge, overlooking a forest, within which a circular tower soared high above the trees. I raised a hand to my eyes to shield from the sun and squinted up at the barred window at its top. The sense of loneliness I felt is hard to convey, as I knew, in my heart of hearts, that it was the place where the Prince had been banished these long years.
I found myself stepping and sliding down a steep embankment, and having reached the forest’s floor, as is so often the case with dreams, I was outside the fortress-like tower in an instant. A wooden door at the tower’s base opened as though in welcome. I flew through it, desperate to find and reassure the Prince that help was at hand. The winding steps within were seemingly endless, and my heart raced as I climbed them, not only with the effort of that steep climb but at the thought of gazing upon his face.
At the top, I discovered another door and, in my eagerness to confirm that it was open,
I hurled myself against it. The door did not give way, and I bounced off, clutching my arm. Along with my spirits, I sank to the ground and rested my back against the door. I heard a voice from inside the room behind me. It sounded distant at first, but as it drew nearer, I recognised it as the Prince’s.
“Is there someone there?” he asked so disbelievingly that my heart sank.
“It’s me! Beauty!” I said, scrambling to my feet.
“Beauty? But how did you find me? This tower is beyond the senses of all. Invisible! And you should not be here. It’s too dangerous.”
I pressed my palms to the door. “I would not wish to be anywhere else …”
“At least now you can now see for yourself,” said the Prince, thumping hard upon the door, “It cannot be opened.”
“Your brother will open it,” I said through gritted teeth.
“My brother?” replied the Prince, once again sounding for all the world as though he had forgotten he had a brother.
“Yes. Your brother the Beast. He’s on his way!”
“… Yes, yes, of course, but …”
“But nothing. He has the strength of six men, and he will tear down this door …” I said, balling my fists against it.
“Please, do not get your hopes up, Beauty. This door is held closed by powerful magic. So powerful that I suspect it will require more than brute strength of my brother to tear it down.”
I nodded. “Well then, take heart, for we are on route to speak with the witch.”
Silence.
“Are you there?” I asked.
“Know this,” began the Prince gravely, “the heart of that hag is as black as oil. You cannot expect any mercy from her. And you’ll be placing yourself in terrible danger.”
“It matters not. I have long since been resolved to do whatever I must to break this curse. If that should result in my own demise, then so be it.”
“Beauty …” sighed the Prince, softly.
“Yes?”
“Then … then you must remember what I told you and look for me not with your eyes but with your …”
Once again, I awoke with a dreadful start. I felt a pain in my arm where I’d collided with the door and, glancing down, saw that it was bruised. I lay my head down on my pillow and quietened my breathing. “Have no fear, I will seek you with my heart. And I will find you.”
The following morning, I emerged from below deck to see that dark, fast-moving clouds filled the sky. The Beast was standing at the ship’s wheel.
“Good morning. Where is the Captain?” I asked, hugging myself for warmth. The Beast glanced at me over his shoulder. “He has retired to his cabin for some much-needed sleep.” A blanket was wrapped around the Beast’s shoulders. He removed it with a flourish and draped it tenderly across my own. While the blanket had barely covered his chest, it positively swamped me. “Are you certain you don't need your blanket?” I smiled up at him.
“Yes, quite certain,” he replied in a voice made purposely deep. “As you can see, I am large and ugly enough to cope with a chill wind.”
“Apparently not,” I murmured, pulling the blanket tight around me.
The Beast cleared his throat. “You have injured your arm?”
“Apparently so. Curiously, it happened in a dream.”
“Maybe it is not so curious,” said the Beast philosophically.
“What do you mean?”
“I have read a paper by an eminent scientist which states that those things we encounter in our dreams can also manifest themselves … why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“Like what?”
“Like I have said something … endearing.”
I shrugged. “I spoke with your brother in my dream and injured my arm against the door which separated us.”
“I see. And what did my brother have to say for himself?”
“What is it with you two? Whenever you speak of each other, you do so in the vaguest of terms.”
“I … I don't know what you mean.”
“It's as though you keep forgetting one another.”
“It has been a great many years since …”
“Yes, I know, since the witch separated you.”
“So?” sighed the Beast. “What did my brother have to say for himself?”
“He was concerned for my safety. Particularly when I told him we were on our way to find the witch.”
“It pleases me to hear that he was concerned. Tell me, where was this door that separated you both?”
“That's a really good question …” I smiled.
“I have my moments.”
“I've noticed,” I said and felt myself reddening. “I came upon the door at the top of a tower.”
“A tower?”
“Yes. A tower in the middle of a vast forest.”
“Isolated?”
“I’ll say. It was perhaps the loneliest place on Earth. Please, do not look so downcast. We are going to free him from that dreadful place.”
“I wish I had your faith.”
“Right now, I wish I had your fur,” I shuddered.
Journal entry no. 23
The Captain joined us on deck at midday and took control of the ship's wheel. The storm had worsened, its winds now powerful enough to blow anything that had not been tied down overboard. We spent the hours that followed in quiet contemplation of what lay ahead.
At dusk, the Captain informed us that we would soon be arriving at our destination. The Beast and I had been standing at the ship's bow, watching for glimpses of shore illuminated by lightning. The Beast turned to face the Captain at his wheel. “Where is this cove at which you're going to drop us?” he asked.
“There's been a change plan,” replied the Captain.
“Oh, yes?” said the Beast.
The Captain smiled. “I'm taking you directly to your destination. As close as I can get.”
I turned to face the Captain. “There really is no need. That was not what we agreed.”
“A lot has changed since then.”
“True. But you cannot hold yourself responsible for what the crew did,” I said.
“In that, we are in agreement,” said the Beast.
The Captain tightened his grasp on his wheel, “That's just somethin' we'll have to agree to disagree on, then.”
“That's very kind of you, Jim,” said the Beast.
“Jim?” I said, looking back and forth between them.
“Jim's my name. And only those I consider my friends get to know or call me it.”
“Does that include me?” I asked.
“It does.”
“Thank you, Jim. I am Beauty.”
“True. And if you'd rather not tell me your name, I understand.”
“No. Beauty is my name,” I said, rolling my eyes.
The Captain furrowed his brow. “Beauty and the Beast?”
The Beast and I glanced awkwardly at one another. “That about sums us up,” murmured the Beast.
Jim steered the ship into a cove where cliffs gathered about us. He dropped the anchor and then went to the aft of the boat where he called to the Beast to help him lower a raft. Not long after, we looked down upon the raft, bobbing up and down on the water. Jim unhooked a lantern from a pole and, having handed it to the Beast, offered me a hand. I imagined he intended to help me climb down into the raft. I was, therefore, taken aback when he shook my hand warmly. “You're a remarkable young woman, and I wish you all the luck in the world,” he said.
“Thank you, Jim.”
“And you be sure to take good care of the Beast,” he said, looking up at him.
“I will allow no harm to come to him,” I replied.
“I don't doubt it. I will be here when you return.”
“Give us twenty-four hours,” said the Beast, “if we have not returned, then it is unlikely we ever shall.”
“That's a bit glum,” I said.
The Beast stroked his chin. “Not necessarily. We may be forced to
take another mode of transport home.”
Jim shook his head. “This is an island.”
“Yes. But this is no ordinary island. It’s a place where anything is possible. Be that thing good or …”
“Why not leave it at that?” I said.
The Beast nodded and extended a paw to Jim. Man and Beast shook hands, and the Beast climbed down into the lifeboat. He looked up, opened his arms, and I climbed down into them.
Jim watched, arms folded, as the Beast rowed us towards the cove’s sandy shore. By the time we reached it, all that was visible of the ship were two distant lamps that burned like tiny fireflies. Our own little boat slid up upon the sand, and once we had climbed out, the Beast held aloft the lantern. It illuminated a great many boulders that had been arranged to form a staircase to a plateau above. I stepped towards these ‘stairs’ and felt the Beast take hold of my arm. “Even now, it is not too late to change your mind,” he said.
I looked up at the Beast’s face illuminated by the flickering lamplight. “Change it? More than ever, I am determined to face the witch.”
“Why more than ever?” he asked.
“Because … because I know you now.”
“When you say me, you mean my brother?”
“No. While it is true that I would very much like to get to know your brother better, I barely know him at all.”
“And the reason you are so determined to get to him better?”
I sighed. “I am loathed to say it aloud for fear that you will think me shallow.”
“You care what I think of you? When I am nothing but …”
I stood on tiptoes, reached up, and placed a hand across his mouth. “Please, do not speak ill of yourself.”
The Beast nodded, and I removed my hand. “Let’s go and find this witch,” I said with as much determination as I could muster.
Once we'd reached the top of the staircase, a staircase that the Beast explained had been made by smugglers in centuries past, we emerged onto a small plateau. Before us, we saw an opening between two rock faces, one wide enough for a single horse and rider to pass through. In the light of the Beast’s raised lamp, we could see that the passage beyond went on for some distance. Unfortunately, that is not all we saw in that creeping lamplight, as stuck on pikes were human skulls, their faces arranged so that they scowled in our direction. I swallowed so hard it was practically a gulp. “Who were these poor souls?” I breathed.
