Pulchritude

by Ana Mardoll

  "Down there?" Bella asked quietly, lifting her hand to point down the hill into a valley that showed through a gap in the hedges. The gap was barely wide enough for a cart to pass through, but through it she could see moonlight streaming into the valley and striking the gray stone walls of a castle that was larger than any building Bella had seen before.

  "I think so." Cienzo sounded uncertain. "I hadn't expected ... I thought he would meet us at the gate ..." His voice trailed off in confusion.

  "Forwards, backwards, or neither?" Bella thought, blinking back her tears. Father wouldn't let her go back, and while staying in the cold night air was more appealing than continuing onward, it would only prolong her suffering. She sighed, and began the walk down the dirt road towards the imposing castle that sat dark and cold under the moonlight. Father shuffled quietly behind her, but whether he came to comfort her or because he dared not stay alone, she couldn't bear to guess.

  As they entered the courtyard, the silence was disturbed by the loud creak of hinges as the giant castle doors swung slowly open. Jarred from her unhappy thoughts, Bella's gaze shot to the open doors and she stumbled in mid-step, barely righting herself from sprawling. No torches shone within the castle, and the door was so heavily shaded by an overhang that it was impossible to see anything beyond the dark threshold. For a long moment, Bella stood still in the courtyard and waited, trembling anxiously.

  Something slid slowly into the splash of moonlight that seeped around the edges of the entrance overhang. Bella stared at the strange object, its edges blurred by the pale white light, and then felt her skin crawl as she realized that the object was a hoof attached to a hairy goat's leg. "What--?" she asked under her breath, and then gasped as the leg moved forward and the rest of the beast emerged into the cold night light.

  Behind her, she heard her father suck in his breath in recognition. Bella wanted to turn on her father in anger, but dared not take her eyes from the apparition before her. Cienzo had told her that the magician took the form of the bear, and Bella had tried to prepare herself by imagining every festival bear she had seen as a child, but this abomination was anything but a bear.

  The creature stood on two legs and was shaped astonishingly like a man, but was impossibly tall; Bella was certain her head wouldn't come up to its chest. Its arms were long and lanky, and were jointed as deeply as its tottering goat-like legs. The creature's hands hung loose at its sides, and Bella shuddered to see that each finger ended in a long claw that glistened sharply in the moonlight. Worst of all was the face, not like a bear at all, but instead a strange mishmash of animals: a lion's snout, a boar's tusks, a buck's ears, and above it all two pitch-black eyes that glittered like dark jewels in the pale light. The creature looked terrifying, wild, and completely unnatural.

  Most jarring of all, the creature was dressed as a man. A white tunic hung loosely over the beast's form, the torn sleeves stopping short at the elbow and the shirt hem inadequate to reach all the way down the tall, elongated body. Similar shortcomings were evident in the creature's leg coverings; fabric flapped loosely at its thin, hairy knees. Even from a distance, and in the moonlight, Bella could see that the creature's clothing had once been especially fine, and it seemed obscene that such expensive garments be wasted in dressing this bizarre animal.

  She heard her father clear his throat nervously, breaking the silence. He made no move forward, and no attempt to stand between her and the strange beast, but simply ventured pleadingly, "My lord? I have returned with my daughter."

  The creature did not even glance at him; its large black eyes stared eagerly at her. "I see that." Its voice was low, the sound of gravel grinding underfoot, and though Bella had known it would speak, still she jumped in surprise to hear anything come from that strange mass of small, sharp teeth and large boar tusks. "Have you come to save your father, maiden?"

  Bella swallowed deeply and tried to find her own voice. Her mouth felt dry and she felt herself shaking in the cold night air. If only those strange inhuman eyes were not staring so hungrily at her! She gulped a breath of air and said as bravely as she could: "Yes."

  "You are a very loving girl," the beast said gravely.

  Bella inclined her head automatically at the familiar compliment. "It's my name," she said, nervously, "I'm called Bella."

  The beast seemed puzzled for a moment, but simply said, "Of course you are," in that same grave tone. At the beast's confusion, Bella realized belatedly that he had not said she was a lovely girl, the complement she was most accustomed to. "Not the most auspicious start," she thought to herself, her inner voice mimicking the creature's formal tones. She stifled a nervous giggle and wondered if she was on the verge of hysteria and whether or not she should leap over the edge and be done with it.

  "Bella is a very good girl," Cienzo offered, his voice high and tight with fear. "She'll make a very good wife, and you'll have no occasion to ... well, ah ... complain." His voice trailed off quietly, and Bella wondered if he'd meant to say 'devour her' or something equally more candid.

  The beast shambled slowly across the courtyard toward her, and Bella had to fight a powerful urge to run in the opposite direction. Warily, she eyed those long legs and lanky arms, and imagined that the beast would be able to outrun even the fastest human. Trembling, she held perfectly still, her eyes fixed on its face; the creature stopped a few feet from her and extended one of those long arms. She stared at the hairy arm, unsure what was expected of her. "Should I offer a compliment?" she wondered.

  "Will you take my hand as my bride?"

  The question was solemn and serious; this strange creature was not jesting with her. She had assumed that 'bride' was a euphemism for being the creature's dinner, and what it could actually mean now, Bella could hardly imagine. Wives cooked and cleaned and shopped and managed the household servants and they bore children ... Bella's thoughts trailed off as she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. She couldn't do any of these things for this beast, and she didn't even want to try.

  The beast was still looking at her intently, its hand outstretched towards her. She glanced back at her father, but Cienzo just nodded anxiously at her, urging her forward. "I don't have a choice," Bella realized with fear. She didn't want to become a bride, with whatever that might entail, to this frightening creature, but neither did she want to be devoured in a rage if she refused.

  "I ... do," she said, hesitating over the words. "What is the correct way to wed an abomination?" she thought mournfully, but she stepped forward and gingerly placed her hand on the extended palm. Long furry fingers curled over her hand, completely engulfing it, but the touch was gentle and it obviously took care not to scratch her with those sharp nails. Bella tried not to shudder at the strange touch. Its hand was warm and the coarse hair was not too different from a hunting hound they'd had when she was a child, but the sensation felt very different coming from this human-shaped beast.

  "Congratulations!" Cienzo bellowed in relief behind them. His loud voice broke through the quiet night and sent a shiver down Bella's spine. He started to babble in a nervous frenzy, "You two will be very happy together, we need to have some kind of party to celebrate, maybe a banquet--"

  "Get out."

  The beast's voice was changed in that moment: the polite gravity drained from its voice and in its place was a low, animal growl. Bella would have pulled away in fear, but her hand was still encased completely in its own; the slightest sudden movement and she might lacerate her hand on those claws.

  "My lord ...?" Cienzo pleaded, stumbling a few steps backward.

  "Get out. Go home. Don't come back."

  Over her shoulder, Bella watched her father intently in the cold light. He drew a breath as if to say something, but a long look at the beast's face and he deflated. Shoulders hunched, he nodded in defeat and turned to go. "The gate ... my lord?"

  The beast waved at him dismissively with its free hand. "It will open at your touch," the creature growled airily. "Come, Bella." Gently but fir
mly, it led her towards the open castle doors. Bella cast one last look behind her at her father's back as he began to trudge up the slope of the valley walls before she turned to stumble uncertainly after her new husband.

  At the castle entrance, she balked a little. The beast noticed her gait slow and it turned to face her. Up close, the creature was even more frightening, and she flinched as those wide black eyes locked on to hers. Sensing her fear, it uncurled its hand from hers and she saw the beast's ears twitch with some animal emotion. Slowly, she drew her hand back, and wrapped her arms tightly across her chest, trying to draw warmth and comfort from the gesture.

  "Bella," it said tentatively, "You don't need to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you."

  She blinked up at the beast, and felt tears pricking at her eyes. "Don't cry now!" she thought fiercely, biting her lip hard, praying she wouldn't break down. "It's not that," she said quietly, hoping she would not offend the strange beast. "I just ..."

  "Yes?" The voice was almost tender, its neck craning forward as it stared intently at her.

  Bella glanced away from that frightening face, into the dark void of the castle that she was expected to enter. She shivered, and said uncertainly, "I can't see in the dark."

  She looked back up at its face and suddenly stepped back in fear; the beast's mouth was wide open, with sharp animal teeth gleaming hungrily. "I'm sorry, my dear, I've become used to seeing in the dark," it said between strange choking sounds, and Bella realizing with astonishment that it was laughing. "That's a smile!" she thought, faint with relief that those teeth weren't about to tear into her.

  The beast stepped quickly inside the castle without another word, and Bella was left standing on the doorstep wondering if she was to follow. She couldn't bear to enter that dark void without a light; her mind flinched from imagining what horrors she might trip over in the castle of a beast. Within the darkness, she heard the soft whoosh of a flame, and there stood the beast, a lit candle in one hand and grinning the same toothy smile. The beast came outside to join her, shielding the candle from the cool wind with its free hand, and offered the light to her.

  "Will this help?" the beast asked hopefully.

  "Thank you," she said, as politely as she could. She took the candle carefully by the base and cupped her hand around the warm flame. "You're very kind," she offered cautiously. The beast smiled at her again -- "Those teeth are sharp as needles," she thought anxiously -- and motioned for her to follow into the castle.

  "Come," it said, and she saw no way to politely refuse. With trepidation, she followed into the castle, careful to stay close as the creature led her through wide halls and narrow turns. Everywhere they walked, the castle was silent, and Bella wondered if they were the only living things on the entire estate. She held her candle carefully as she walked, but through the dim light she discerned no grim horrors; the castle seemed rather like what she would have expected from her childhood imaginings: lots of rich tapestries, though a bit more dusty than she would have thought.

  "Where are we going, my lord?" she asked cautiously as they rounded another corner and Bella was certain she was hopelessly lost.

  "To bed, of course," the beast said absently. "I was asleep when you arrived. You must be tired, it's well past midnight." There followed a strange noise, a series of low moans and bones cracking gently, and Bella realized the huge creature was yawning with fatigue. Quickly she averted her eyes to a nearby tapestry; she didn't care to see any more of the beast's teeth.

  "To bed?" she asked with what she hoped sounded like casual curiosity, but her voice cracked with apprehension.

  "Oh, yes, you'll like the bedroom. The fireplace keeps it quite warm during these chilly spring nights, and it's very cool in the summer." The voice was proud, the proprietary manner of an owner showing off his treasured estate. Through the dim light, she saw its head crane back to glance at her, and she forced herself to smile and nod encouragingly.

  "I ... is that so ...?" she stammered politely. She wasn't sure what more to say, but she was saved as they rounded a corner.

  "Ah, here we are." The beast stooped down and touched a door latch. "Ladies first," it said, backing away carefully in the narrow hallway and holding open the door for her.

  Bella felt an icy fear. "How can I go in there?" she thought with panic, but slowly she stepped into the room. With a smile plastered on to her face, she turned in a circle and pretended to survey the room with pleasure. Behind her, the beast stooped low to walk through the doorway and straightened again once inside the room, smiling at her all the while.

  "It's lovely," Bella said, and it wasn't a lie. The room was larger than the drawing room in her home. A big fireplace was cut into the wall and glowed with red embers, filling the room with a comforting warmth. The walls, as far as she could see in the dim light, were covered with beautiful tapestries, some depicting fantastical scenes and others splashed with stunning patterns of colors and shapes. Dominating the far wall, however, was a single enormous bed, its sheets and quilts very recently ruffled by their previous occupant.

  "It's very comfortable," the beast assured her, watching her gaze intently. "I hope you'll sleep very well."

  She looked up at the beast, and could feel the tears coming now, despite the danger. "I'd rather be eaten now than ..."

  The beast craned its head at her, and those long ears suddenly twitched. "Bella?" it said, the gravelly voice thick with concern. "Bella? Why are you crying, dear?"

  The room swam before her eyes. "I can't ... I can't!" she cried.

  "Bella?" It stepped quickly towards her, arms outstretched; a sharp scream ripped from her throat as she scrambled backwards out of reach. In the corner of the far wall, she trembled fearfully, and watched her dropped candle sputter on the stone floor.

  The beast stood frozen in the center of the room, staring down at the floor. Its face was twisted with emotion and its hands were clenched tightly, but as she studied the creature fearfully, the thought struck her that it looked more sad than angry.

  "Bella," it said, and the voice was so soft she strained to hear it. "I am not going to hurt you. I promise you that." The beast's body stayed motionless, but those eyes moved up to hers. She blinked slowly and thought that the eyes seemed full of remorse. "I've hurt ... its feelings," she thought with astonishment.

  "I ... I'm sorry." She wasn't sure what she was apologizing for, but it seemed like a good place to start. "I ... I can't ... I can't be your ... wife." She gestured helplessly at the bed, before quickly pulling her hands back to wrap around herself again.

  The beast stared at her in incomprehension for a moment, and then buried its face in those hands. "Is it crying?" Bella marveled but, when it spoke a moment later, the voice was more embarrassed than sorrowful. "Bella, I'm so sorry. I wasn't clear." Hands lowered from its face, the beast looked at her with clear eyes and a hint of that strange smile, almost sympathetic. "I don't expect you to do anything but sleep here at night and keep me company with your conversation during the day. I'm really not going to hurt you -- I won't even touch you, Bella."

  She looked at the beast warily. "Promise?" she asked, and immediately regretted it. "You're not supposed to argue," she chastised herself angrily.

  "I promise," it said solemnly. The creature cast a long look at the rumpled bed, and finally offered, "I'll even sleep on the floor tonight, if it will make you feel safer."

  Bella stared at the beast, unsure of what to do with this offer. "You would?"

  "Yes. But I would prefer not to," it said, curling up one lip in an almost human expression of distaste at the cold floor.

  In her nervousness she laughed, and then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. The beast watched her quietly; after a long moment's thought, she said with a sigh, "No, it's all right. I don't ... mind." She couldn't stop it from entering the bed if it took a mind to, and it was better to keep the creature happy, no matter what promises were claimed.

  She flashed what she hoped was a convi
ncing smile, and carefully climbed into the large bed, settling herself down on the edge, as far from the center as possible. The beast watched her the whole time, its ears twitching gently. "Is it distress that makes them do that?" she wondered curiously. Once she was settled, it stepped forward slowly and gently placed a hoof on the still-guttering candle. The light extinguished quickly, leaving only the glow from the fireplace to light the dark room.

  Slowly, the beast shuffled to the far side of the bed and carefully climbed in. Bella could hear breathing, thick and heavy to suit the huge frame that barely fit the length of the bed. She kept her own breathing steady, wondering if she could trick it into thinking she was already asleep. "I won't sleep a wink tonight," she promised herself fearfully.

  Beside her, the beast sighed contentedly. "Good night, Bella," it murmured into the darkness.

  She struggled within herself: to keep up the pretense of sleep or risk being considered impolite? "Good night ... my lord," she finally murmured uncertainly.

  Beside her, the beast yawned again, its jaw popping and snapping loudly with the strain. "Oh," it said sleepily. "You can call me Ezio."

  In the darkness, she blinked in surprise. "It has a name?" she thought. Quietly, she repeated, "Good night ... Ezio," but there was no response except a deep, rhythmic snore. And though she did not intend to sleep, she could feel the exhaustion of the day wash over her and her eyes began to droop against her best efforts.

  Chapter 10 - Ezio

  It was still dark when Ezio awoke from a nightmare, not that "dark" had meant much to him in the weeks since his grotesque transformation. Even the slightest source of light, such as the warm red embers that still glowed on the hearth, was enough to light the room clearly for him. He lay motionless and allowed his eyes to dart about the room, struggling to keep his breathing calm.

  He was usually a heavy sleeper, but he'd slept badly with the girl lying in bed next to him. He'd been tormented by a vivid dream in which he turned to embrace her, only to find that he had accidentally shredded her to pieces with his sharp claws. The bed linens had been doused with warm blood, and his ears were still ringing with the dream-howl that had erupted from his throat at the sight of the body. Now that he was awake and his rapid heartbeat was slowing to normal, he could hear the girl snoring softly beside him and he knew that she was safe.