Girl in the Bearskin

by C. L. Stone

  “Oh you’re a good girl,” he said, and reached up to clap me on the back. “I’m so glad you’ve got yourself together. After Thorne ran off, I was worried about you. Speaking of which, did you find him?”

  “No,” I said. “I never caught up with him.”

  “Odd,” he said. He combed his fingers through his beard, scratching at the chin underneath. “I thought I remember I heard him getting married.”

  The warmth from my face faded and an icy touch took over. “What?”

  He blinked at my face. “Funny, always thought it was to you.” He laughed. “Or maybe I assumed it. Could you imagine yourself with such a beardless dwarf?” He turned to his people and waved his hand at them. “Think about it, a beardless dwarf with a beautiful and strong woman like Adelina? I tell you, a frog and a princess would be a better match.”

  The others laughed at his joke, although weakly. They didn’t appear to understand. To them, I was the frog, and a beardless dwarf would be more desirable.

  I stepped away, turned, and walked out of the dining hall.

  Thorne.

  Possibly married to someone else.

  A thickness filled my throat.

  My eyes stung as I tried desperately to blink away tears.

  I went to the room we’d been given quickly, and I closed and locked the door.

  SURRENDER

  The room was so small, I could stretch my arms out to either side and touch both walls. It had room for one small bed and a small bit of rug underneath.

  I stood on the rug, in the dark, the candle near the bed cold.

  I felt nothing.

  My breathing became labored.

  Thorne…

  I closed my eyes, as if to shut out everything else around me.

  What else would have happened to him? He left a year ago. Did I think during that whole time he was just waiting for me somewhere?

  No. He moved on with his life, while he’d ripped mine apart.

  It didn’t matter that Ivan could have been wrong, it was the possibility that Thorne could, and probably had, moved on after he left.

  That this pursuit was always going to be one sided. If he’d wanted to find me, he could have.

  Perhaps I was chasing someone who didn’t want anything to do with me.

  Perhaps he was nothing more than a thief.

  I sunk down to my knees, looking over my ragged clothing, my arms covered in dirt and flaking with wax that often fell from my body now. Some patches were dead skin layered on itself, and red marks where I’d scratched at how itchy it was.

  The rest of me looked pretty much the same.

  I closed my hands into fists. Look at me. What was I going to do when I found him, anyway?

  He’d take one look at me, at what I’d become, and he’d recoil and run off again. Ivan had to be so drunk to not notice how hideous I’d become.

  What did I think was going to happen when I went to Thorne? I said I wanted answers. I told myself I wanted to end it all.

  It was all a lie to myself. Left in side of me for the last year, I’d a small bit of hope that I’d find him and that he’d have a reasonable explanation.

  And yet…if he had gotten married, I felt forgotten.

  Worse, here I was, a filthy girl wearing a bearskin.

  “Everyone is repulsed by me,” I said, although to only myself. I swallowed thickly, tightened my hands into fists. “Maybe the demon is right. Would surrendering to him be so terrible? I wouldn’t have to deal with children running from me, or having to pay so much to stay around people. I itch. I’m sore. I get sick at my own smells.”

  And six more years! I’d have to live with myself like this for so long.

  Even when I thought to cry, I couldn’t. My eyes were dry and cold. My body refused to do it.

  There was no release for me there. The pressure in my heart thickened.

  How could I ask Wilhelm to continue with me? He must be truly blind to stay.

  And Shaytan. Perhaps it was worse with him, because he thought to keep me away from Ivan. Was it worth continuing this journey not knowing the truth? Did he want me to be ignorant and find Thorne?

  And perhaps that was what he wanted. For me to see it for myself. If I had witnessed it, would I have survived? At least now I could pretend to be ignorant of his life. I could walk away from this fruitless endeavor.

  Yet now, I wanted nothing to do with any of it. Thorne could rot. Wilhelm could get enough money from me to go on and live his own life.

  Maybe Shaytan would go easy on me when he claimed me.

  As if hearing my thoughts of him, there was a knock at the door. Despite having locked it, Shaytan opened it and came in.

  My voice rose, angry and bitter towards him. “Get out,” I said.

  “No,” he said gently. His dark eyes remained on my face. “While I wasn’t there for you this afternoon, I’ll be here for you now.”

  What did it matter? I lowered to the floor, bent over myself. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask for the knife he’d shown me before.

  Shaytan came to me, lowering himself until he was kneeling in front of me. “Daughter of Yousef, please. Let me help. I can’t bear to see you in such a state.”

  “You’re the cause.”

  “I am not,” he said. He leaned closer, his hands on his knees, looking into my eyes. “I did what you asked of me. I gave you what you wanted. We’ve been through this.”

  I swallowed the curses I wanted to fling at him. “You think I talk of this?” I motioned to the mess I was in. “I could withstand all this! But I do it without purpose now.”

  “You don’t need Thorne. You never did. You’ll get your land, your home…”

  How did he know what I spoke of without my telling him? Did he truly read my mind so clearly? “What good are things like money and property to me?” I cried out. “What good will they be when I’m alone because the prime years of my existence have slipped away and…”

  He reached out to me, a hand moving toward my lips until he closed them with a touch. “Don’t talk so. I’ll never leave. Not even when you’re old and withering. No other person in your life will outlive you, and I will always be there. And I hope in the end, you’ll surrender to me willingly instead of me tricking it out of you.”

  My chest heaved as I tried to hold back crying. Why did my body want to hurt and ache? How could one rumor, a thought spoken allowed from Ivan have set me off in such a state? How could Thorne hurt me after so long away, after all of this?

  And how was it that I felt so lost without thinking to find him? To be giving up the pursuit of him?

  And then suddenly, I found myself leaning into Shaytan’s touch, the way he held at my mouth. I wanted to erase Thorne in this way. I wanted to replace him.

  Shaytan moved his arms until they were wrapped around my neck and my face was dipped into his shoulder.

  Tears lined my eyes, but I refused to cry now. Not with him. I wanted to feel relief but I was too angry to feel anything else.

  Shaytan patiently held me with his arms around my body. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand your human need for things like this,” he said as he embraced me.

  “Shouldn’t you be offering me your knife instead?”

  “If you were really serious, you wouldn’t need to ask me nor wait for me to offer you anything.” He petted the back of my head. “And that’s not how Adelina Yousef will die. You’re braver than you think. You won’t let one moment of weakness claim you.”

  I was weak, although I was sorely tempted. So many more years I had to go through like this, and it would only get worse, not better.

  “Is that what you want from me?” I asked. “To live the seven years in misery? You’re not going to encourage me to die? You’ll lose your bet.”

  He patted my hair, and surprisingly, kissed the top of my head. I felt the pressure of lips at my scalp. “If you hadn’t accepted my bet, I would have offered another. And another. You’ve no idea how y
our soul glitters like jewels to me. What do I care what fate you make for yourself? The only thing I want is you.”

  I didn’t understand him. He liked who I was. He touched me and kissed me despite my appearance. The way he spoke just now, it wasn’t like any sort of demon I’d ever heard of, seeming vile and conniving. He spoke like a lover, like an endearing friend, devoted like no one else could be.

  What kind of demon was Shaytan?

  But with my heart crumpled, it was difficult to feel anything at all. Maybe that was why I needed to hear of Thorne and find him. Like he said, he wished to have me end that relationship, what shred of hope I had left, so I would be clear for Shaytan to claim.

  In my wild thoughts, somehow I heard words uttering from the other side of the wall. I’d ignored it, aware of the voice and others around me in the inn. Everything echoed in such places.

  However, our neighbor’s voice stood out to me, as in a way, they reflected my own thoughts.

  “I should be done with it,” the man’s voice said.

  I shifted away from the demon to go to the wall, drawn out of myself enough to pay attention.

  The voice continued. “In the morning, it’ll all be over. They’ll discover me dead, too, and hopefully…”

  “You should be careful, daughter of Yousef,” Shaytan said behind me, remaining where he’d been.

  There was a click next door, like a knife being unsheathed.

  He wished to kill himself!

  Quickly, I rose, and rushed out as swift as the bearskin would allow.

  Shaytan didn’t stop me, and I’d expected him to. Like with Wilhelm, like with Ivan. Somehow, I suspected he’d come after me, for some crazy reason.

  At the next door, I went to open it, finding it locked. “Wait!” I called out. “Don’t do it!”

  “Go away!” the man on the other side said. “I wish to be alone.”

  “Allow me.” Shaytan appeared next to me.

  I stepped back. He took the handle of the door and the firefly light he carried around him glowed brighter.

  The door swung open. Shaytan backed away, allowing me to enter ahead of him.

  There was a clattering as the knife flew toward me, which had me bracing myself and recoiling back to the door in surprise, bumping into Shaytan in the moment. Shaytan steadied me. The knife never made it very far, clattering instead to the floor.

  The man inside topped over on the chair he’d been sitting on, as he’d thrown the knife at the door in surprise. He dropped and rolled onto his back on the ground. We’d startled him by coming in.

  He clamored up. He wore fine clothes, and his hair was fashionably trimmed, beard cut short against his chubby cheeks. He was older, his mature face wrinkled in places, and he had a pudgy body.

  He took one look at me and covered his face, pulling back. “Don’t hurt me!”

  I raised my hands, showing him empty palms. “I’m here to help. I heard you just now. Don’t do it.” I was pretty sure Shaytan made himself invisible for the man. He never looked over my shoulder where I knew Shaytan to be.

  The man on the floor blinked at me, the light of the candle reflecting off the tearing eyes and the dampness at his cheeks. The despair was temporarily gone, however, replaced by fear of me.

  If it got him to stop killing himself, I’d take it.

  The man slowly stood as I continued to look at him. “Please,” I said. “I don’t mean you any harm. I’ll help if I can.”

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “My name is Adelina,” I said. I stepped a bit closer, and Shaytan closed the door behind us. “I was in the room next door.”

  He seemed distracted temporarily by the closing of the door and then looked again at me. “Are you a witch?”

  Maybe I should say so, but I didn’t want to lie. “I’ve no magic,” I said. “What’s going on?”

  When he realized I wasn’t there to hurt him, he seemed relieved, but then shook his head. “Please, there’s nothing you could do to help me.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what your problems are?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine whatever it was being worse than the predicament I was in, so death couldn’t be possibly worth his time. He wasn’t so old as to seek relief from an aging body, nor did he seem sick and in desire for pain to cease.

  He went back to his chair and sat. I collected the knife before I set it aside on a table away from his reach.

  I sat on the floor by his feet as he told me about his misery.

  “I’m so ashamed,” he said. He put his palm to his face, holding there at his cheek. “There was a business investment for what sounded like a very profitable venture. A spice ship sailing back from the east. It took all my coin to make the deal. Everything on a single ship.”

  “And it is lost?” I asked, feeling the answer from his painful expression.

  “Last I heard, it was wrecked and scavenged by looters on an island to the south.” He reeled his head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Everything I had was in this investment. I even took out loans. I’ve no money left. I probably don’t have enough money for this very room I’m staying in. My sons, all three of them, they’ve nothing now. Not a thing to offer a potential wife, nor an occupation to take over when I’m gone.”

  “That’s an odd decision, to bet everything on one ship,” Shaytan said behind me.

  The man rolled his head forward again, leaning over himself, and again putting his hands to his face, covering his sobbing. “I’ll probably go to prison, unable to pay for my debt. The house will be sold. My wife and kids will be in the street. I can’t dare go back…”

  I waited, thinking I’d hear more, but then realized that was all of it. Money? Really? Did he think the shame of admitting they were out of money would be worse than death?

  Yet, it was easier for me to talk when money came from my pocket at will.

  And what was odd to me was that in his desperation, Shaytan didn’t reveal himself, and didn’t offer him any such bets as he’d done for me.

  I supposed it was true what he said, that he wasn’t interested in anyone else.

  I spoke slowly, feeling for his situation. “If money is the only problem, then perhaps I can help.”

  “Don’t tell him where it comes from,” Shaytan warned me.

  The man on the ground looked up, clear a protest of some sort was on his lips. He didn’t believe me, and I couldn’t blame him.

  Yet from my pocket, I drew out a handful of coins. “I can pay for your room tonight. And there’s more where that came from. If you need to pay off your loans and save your family from being in the street, then this is for you.”

  His eyes widen at the golden coins in my hand. “What? Where did you come across it?”

  “Does it matter?” I asked. “You should know I gained it fairly. But I hope you won’t ask me how. I can’t tell you.”

  “That does make it sound suspicious.”

  “I have my reasons. Please.”

  He tilted his head at me, looking beyond the money and to me in my displeasing state. “You do look kind of odd, so perhaps it is wrong of me to be distraught in my own self pity and then question you about where you’re getting money.”

  He stood, and I did as well, holding out the coins to him.

  He collected them in his hands. “They’re real.” He coughed shortly. “Not that I didn’t believe you. Are…you a demon? Is this a bet?”

  Shaytan laughed behind me.

  “No,” I said. “And you should never deal with a demon.”

  “Oh, I know a few demons who would eat him up in a second,” Shaytan said.

  I ignored his comments and tried to look encouraging to the man.

  “I think I would have before I met you,” he said. He brought the coins closer to his body, holding them to his chest. “I don’t know how to thank you. Wait, I know. Why don’t you consider this an investment?”

  “For what?”

  “We could be business partners. I’ve learned
from my mistakes. I no longer wish to deal with the people who got me into the state I am in now, after all the pressure they put me under.”

  “I’d be careful not to go into this blindly, if you choose to do it at all,” Shaytan said. “Sounds like the deal he made might not have been a deal at all. I’m going to guess there was no ship. He’s a gullible old fool.”

  I suspected he was right. “Who are these people you’re talking about?” I asked the man.

  “They live by the sea, to the south. I was going to be on my way there to meet the ship and to help assist with the selling of the product. I have a few connections.” He shook his head and pressed a hand to his face. “Only I got a letter today at home that said not to bother; it told me the ship had gone down. I came here to get away from my family so they wouldn’t see my face. I couldn’t tell them…”

  I reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder, careful not to grip with my fingernails. “What’s your name?”

  “Heinrich Roth,” he said. He put away the coins so he could hold out his hand to me. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  I shook hands with him. “I’m Adelina Yousef.”

  “Yousef? I know of your family line. Or at least, it sounds familiar.” He wiped at his face with his clean hand and then took out a handkerchief to wipe the hand he’d touched me with. “Please forgive me, this is a habit with anyone.”

  “I would never hold it against you. Honestly, I know my appearance is odd, but you should know I’ve a very good reason for looking this way. I can’t explain it, though.”

  He stopped his motion of cleaning his hands and paused. “Maybe it is good you’ve met me. Whatever you’re going through, I think going into business with me will help.”

  “I think we should first talk to these people you had dealings with. I’m interested to see this ship and where it supposedly crashed.”

  “You think there’d be something left to salvage?”

  “Doubt it,” Shaytan said. “But I agree, I’d like to see these investors.”

  “Perhaps,” I said, not being honest with him. It seemed odd to me as well he’d be pressured to take out loans and invest every last dime into one spice ship. How did word get back to him like this that it crashed? How would anyone know if it did?