by M. J. Haag
With him carrying me, we flew through the halls to the kitchen. He gently set me on one of the bare mattresses and left in a whirl. I shivered in the cool room, coughing so hard my stomach hurt. He returned with a thick comforter and covered me gently. I closed my eyes and asked for one more thing.
“Please send word to my father. I don’t want him to worry.”
* * * *
Heat burned through me, and a crow cawed loudly. Wind roared through the room, making the beds shake. From the shadows a demon rose. Black with glowing red eyes, it opened its massive maw and bit down into my chest, opening me wide and tearing me apart with each cough. I faded.
* * * *
“Help her!”
The roar filled the room, a distraction from the painful cough consuming me.
“Are you willing to pay the price?” a voice demanded sharply, sounding vaguely familiar.
“Wretched woman, haven’t I given you enough? What more would you take from me?”
“Secrecy. Before she leaves, you must reveal yourself,” the voice said in an angry, spiteful tone. “No mist to hide you. You deserve no respite. You’ve learned nothing.”
A moment of silence reigned while the demon continued to devour me.
“Yes, I will pay the price and wish you to hell,” he said raggedly.
“Here, give her one dose of this each day until she is well. Now, don’t bother me again unless it’s to give me what I want.”
A cold wind rushed through the room, then a large hand burrowed under my head to lift me slightly. A cup pressed to my lips and liquid touched them. I swallowed convulsively three times before the hand lowered me to the mattress again. The liquid flowed down, burning through the wounds the demon had chewed, until I cried and begged for help.
The beast whispered promises in my ear. He asked me to give him my obedience, and he would stop the demon’s feasting. I thought of my father and, hoping he didn’t suffer the same fate, shook my head to deny the beast. The bed trembled with his anger.
* * * *
The demon left at some point during the night, but the wounds he’d caused remained to fester and boil. Again, the beast lifted my head and forced me to drink the vile draught of water and medicine. It didn’t burn as much when I coughed afterward.
He continued to whisper in my ear as I drifted in and out of sleep, making outrageous promises in return for my word to remain with him forever. His insistency didn’t make any sense to me, and I shook my head to deny him each time.
* * * *
When I opened my eyes the following morning, I groaned at the sunlight streaming through the single window and wished I hadn’t cleaned the glass so well. I coughed lightly and remembered the dreams I had of a creature ravaging my chest. Licking my dry lips, I turned my head to look around the room and found that I was alone and the door to the room closed.
I struggled upright and managed to bring myself to a sitting position. My bladder needed relief, and a chamber pot sat in the corner. The cold floor abraded my suddenly sensitive feet as I shuffled toward the pot. The shirt that I’d worn made it easier to do what needed to be done and get back into bed.
As soon as I pulled the cover over me again, the door crashed open and the dark mist rolled into the room.
“How long have I been ill?” I asked, not caring about courtesy.
“This is the second day,” he said, sliding a hand under my head and forcing me to drain a cup of plain water. It sat cold and heavy in my stomach in a good way.
I felt sleep pulling at me.
“Did you send word to my father?” I asked.
“Yes. He knows you are safe and being cared for.” His fingers touched my hair, and my eyes fluttered closed.
I slept several hours before waking again. The light through the window didn’t shine as brightly. A chair near the bed held a cup filled with water. I reached for it eagerly and drained it before making another visit to the chamber pot.
My limbs shook less, but sleep still pulled at me. Again, when I returned to the bed, the beast reappeared in his masking mist.
“Are you feeling well enough to leave?” he asked angrily.
The thought of trudging home made me wince.
“If possible, I would leave and not exhaust your hospitality, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t make it very far,” I said, wondering if he would insist I leave regardless.
“Very well,” he said, seemingly mollified. “Another night then, unless you’d rather stay indefinitely. There are many rooms much more suited to a permanent guest.”
I opened my mouth to deny him, but he continued.
“Beds soft enough to sink several inches and drapes thick enough to keep away the deepest winter’s chill. And wardrobes filled with dresses of supple cloth to caress your skin. You would want for nothing,” he assured me.
“Why are you so desperate to keep me here?” I asked.
“Why do you refuse me so insistently?” he countered with a growl.
“Because you’ve given me no reason to stay,” I said without meaning to. Perhaps being ill prevented my good sense from filtering what came out of my mouth. “You don’t know anything about me. Now, tell me why you want me to stay.”
He roared loudly, during which I caught a curse on all women, then he left in a fury. He slammed the door so hard it tore from the hinges and fell flat to the floor. I was glad the chamber pot wasn’t near it. It would have been a mess to clean up.
I rolled to my side, facing the door, and noticed a tray with bread and a bowl of broth on the chair. Guilt swamped me for aggravating him so much when he’d obviously been taking care of me. I ate the bread, dipping it in the broth, while I tried to arrive at a reasonable explanation for his insistence that I stay.
Though he’d always seemed angry, he did provide for me. Yet, the night I’d run from Tennen and the vines pulled me to the estate—the night the beast had asked to see me naked—made me doubt that his care was due to compassion. However, since then, he’d asked of nothing improper from me, only that I clean...and one time that I read to him. Could he just be lonely?
What about the other enchanted creatures, though? And the old woman he’d brought me to when I’d hit my head on the pole? I recalled the conversation I’d heard while dreaming of the flesh-eating demon. Though I knew the demon was only a product of my fevered mind, I felt that conversation had been real. She’d given him the medicine I needed, and he had promised something in return.
The beast truly did provide for me. But why? I fell asleep before I could arrive at any conclusion.
* * * *
When I woke next, I heard the crackle of a fire from the kitchen and noticed its soft glow illuminating the floor where the door had lain. Someone had removed the door while I slept. My stomach rumbled, and I looked to the chair, hoping for more broth. Instead, a gown draped over the back of it. The dress had more ruffles than I cared for, but I knew the beast meant for me to wear it as an example of what he could offer.
I pulled myself upright and quickly shed the shirt to tug on the dress. It fit snuggly, its supple material clinging and caressing my skin as he promised. When I stood, it fell to the floor in an overabundant cascade. It brought back memories of trying to run through the woods with Tennen right behind me.
Trying not to scowl, I treaded lightly to the kitchen. A crisp, white linen covered the new table. A feast lay out upon it, and the smells of roasted fowl, creamed soups, baked vegetables, and warm bread perfumed the air. Forgetting the dress, I moved to the only setting at the table and pushed back my chair, kicking my skirt slightly to move it out of the way as I sat.
Picking up the fork, I didn’t hesitate to start eating. Everything looked and smelled so good my mouth watered with anticipation.
I didn’t realize the beast had drifted into the room until he passed before the fire and momentarily blocked the light.
“Are you pleased?” he asked.
“The food is delicious. Thank you,” I said a
fter swallowing a bite. I broke off a hunk of steaming bread and smeared soft butter on it. My eyes rolled back.
“And the dress?” he asked.
“Suitably ruffled for such a fine meal,” I said.
“Have you given my offer further consideration?”
Letting silence fall as I chewed a large bite, I wondered how to answer his question. Had I thought on his offer? Yes, but only to try to determine why he repeatedly asked, not to give it serious consideration. After all, I knew nothing of significance regarding the beast to give his proposal serious thought.
“Do you want to know why I consistently say no?” I didn’t wait for him to respond. “How can I offer to stay, to obey your commands, when I see the considerable amount of cruelty and anger in you? How will you turn that on me when I am yours to command?” He growled ominously but didn’t move closer to the table.
“You know nothing of my anger.” A warning growl coated his words.
“I know that you resent this manor and would have gladly ripped it down if the magic here would have let you. And I know that you disregard most of the creatures here with you.”
“Ridiculous,” he roared. “I do not disregard those trapped here with me.”
Trapped? I held onto that bit of knowledge but made no comment on it.
“I saw you with the nymph,” I said, calmly taking a bite from the tender meat of the bird. “If that is how you treat those you care for, I want no part of it.” His growl covered most of his cursing. “She seemed to want no part of you, the second time. Her man stood woodenly nearby watching your use of her. Tell me, would you have raked her trunk like you do to the wood in here had she turned into a tree?” I motioned to the furrows dug deeply into the wood in the kitchen. The black cloud of mist containing him churned with his wrath.
Suddenly, the table and its bounty of food flew away from me as if pulled by a gigantic hand. Dishes clattered to the floor and shattered at my feet, splattering the gown with bits of food. Fork still in hand, I popped my last bite into my mouth.
He raged while I chewed, my heart hammering at my audacity. Still, I felt certain he wouldn’t touch me in anger despite my words. He’d had opportunity to do so many times before. No, tonight was meant to tempt me to say yes to his offer. If he touched me, he knew the answer would never change.
“Thank you for the meal. I enjoyed the food, but the company could use some manners,” I said lightly and stood, shaking what food I could from the dress.
I turned and carefully picked my way through the broken shards of dishware, navigating my bare feet to the safety of the bedroom. He growled, roared, and cursed the entire time.
Staying clothed, I lay back down in bed and stopped listening to his rant. The meal and his tantrum had exhausted me. I went to sleep.
* * * *
After pulling on my socks and then lacing up my boots, I crept to the kitchen. Disaster still claimed the room. On the butcher block, I spotted the shredded remains of my dress and bag. A small sack, about the size of my fist, waited next to the pile. I loosened the tie and looked in at the fine granules of real sugar. The dull, light tan crystals were a rare treat this far north and worth their weight in gold. Two gold coins rested flat against the table near the piled remains of my belongings. I imagined his temper after I slept and his regret after he vented it on my things. Shaking my head, I scooped up everything and headed toward the door.
I still felt weak, but no longer sick. Unsure of the quarantine, I hoped my arrival back in the Water would not cause issue. The vial of medicine, which had been on the chair when I woke, now hid within my bodice. I’d sipped a small dose when I had wakened, as a precaution.
Walking out into the sunlight, I filled my lungs with the fresh air and let it out slowly. A crow watched from a nearby tree, and I bowed to it. It clacked its beak at me in return. Smiling, I ambled to the gate, enjoying the feeling of the sun on my face. It didn’t seem to happen too often inside the estate.
Ahead, near the gate, a figure hid under the shadows of the trees. I halted as soon as I spotted it, wondering if someone had crossed into the estate without the beast’s knowledge. I didn’t have many friends in Konrall, and those I had wouldn’t risk the beast’s punishment for trespass.
“Will you not consider my offer?” the beast called to me angrily. “I’ve sheltered you, fed you, cared for you. You have no cause to deny me.”
Hearing his voice eased some of my fears, and I started forward.
“Stay where you are,” he commanded angrily.
I stilled, wondering what madness gripped him now.
“Your answer. I will give you everything you desire if you but stay and do as I command.”
“Everything I desire?” I fought to keep from laughing as he swore to it. “That is a foolish promise when you have no idea what I desire. What if my desire was your death or to destroy the manor? Neither would be possible, would they?”
He snarled at my logic, and I moved forward. He called me a spiteful woman, ungrateful and cold to the plight of others, selfish and cruel in the face of giving and kindness. As I neared the gate, he moved back behind the underbrush, trying to stay in the shadows. When I stepped onto the dirt just before the gate, he began to beg.
“Please,” he said. “Anything that is within my power to give will be yours. Do not take another step. Turn back and stay with me.”
I shook my head and stepped forward again. The gate swung open as he struck the tree under which he stood. With a roar, he trampled through the brush, and I saw the beast with no obscurity a moment before I passed through the gate.
His pointy ears shot up from each side of his head. His dark eyes were set deep under a dark, shaggy brow. Claws tipped each digit, and fur covered his entire body. With lips pulled back, his very sharp teeth gave no illusions as to what he was. He truly was a beast.
I ran. When I reached the road, I stopped and loosened my grip on the sugar and coins to switch to the other hand. My heart pounded in my ears.
In the distance, I could still hear him. They could probably even hear him in Konrall.
Knowing I’d made the right decision to leave when I had, despite my weak and shaking limbs, I set out toward the Water.
Eleven
A nail held a sign to the front door of our home. Ignoring the quarantine warning, I let myself inside. A dry hacking cough greeted me, and I saw Father at the stove, cooking a watery soup.
“Benella,” he cried, backing away a step. “You should have stayed away.”
“No, Father. I couldn’t ever do that.” I moved toward him and plucked my vial from my bodice and set it on the table next to the other very low vial. “How much longer are you supposed to take the medicine?”
“Seven days from the onset,” he managed before coughing again. The wheezing rasp at the end worried me. He looked drawn and pale. The hand that stirred the soup shook. I pulled out a chair, took the spoon from him, then guided him to sit.
“Where are Bryn and Blye?”
“Sick in their bed.”
I found it odd that Bryn still lay abed when she’d been the first of us sick. I was already up and walking about the countryside. Keeping my thoughts to myself, I went to the well out back to fetch fresh water.
“The Head warned us not to go out during the day,” Father said.
“We need water,” I replied tartly. I didn’t see how fetching the water only at night would benefit anyone. It just meant Father worked when he should be resting. If the Head cared so much, he could enter our den of sickness to scold me.
“Did you take your dose today?”
He shook his head, and I knew it was because there was so little left. How could the doctor think this would last seven days for three people when only a quarter of the vial remained? Father caught my expression as I carefully measured a dose into a cup and added water.
“Bryn took the dose twice a day hoping it would work faster. I suspect Blye did the same, but in hopes it would keep
her from catching it.”
I cast a glance at their closed door, the only consideration I gave them, and ladled some of the soup to Father. As he sipped it, there was a knock on the front door.
We both exchanged glances before I called out a quarantine warning.
“I know,” a voice called back. “I put it there. So I’m wondering why we spotted someone entering this building a short while ago.”
My eyes narrowed, and I jerked open the door. The Head stood in the road a good distance from the door.
“Good morning, Head. Please, won’t you come in and discuss this transgression? Better yet, I will come to you, and you can properly reprimand me.”
“Benella,” Father scolded behind me in a whisper.
“Please stay where you are,” the man said. “Now that you’ve entered, you may not leave until the sickness passes.”
“I am fully aware of that. I can read,” I said, pointing to the sign right beside me. “We are running low on medicine. The doctor said he had more if we had payment. We also need supplies: oats, flour, any greens to be found. Can you arrange for that? I’d rather care for my father than have to run any errands,” I spoke softly, watching him to see if he understood my threat.
He nodded slowly.
“We can leave it on the porch and knock when you can come out for it. You have payment for it?”
Nodding, I turned away from the door and grabbed the two coins I’d set on the table. Father’s eyes rounded, having just noticed them. At the door, I flipped them so they landed at the Head’s feet.
“Boil them before you trade with them.”
The Head reached into his pocket for a piece of leather and wrapped the coins within before walking away. He would probably boil the coins and burn the leather.
“Where did those come from?” Father asked when I closed the door.
I smiled and sat by him.
“You will never believe the story,” I said, knowing full well he would.
Just then, the bedroom door opened, and Blye shuffled out. She coughed weakly into an embroidered linen square, no rasp evident in her exhale.
“I heard voices,” she said pathetically to explain her presence. Then her eyes widened at the sight of me. “Benella, where did you get that dress?” She rushed forward and touched the sleeve of it. “Exquisite,” she breathed and tugged me to my feet. “What happened to the hem?”