Enchant: Beauty and the Beast Retold

by Demelza Carlton

  "I love my brother," Vardan said. "And I am loyal to the king." There. Let her tell him that when she carried her report home to the capital.

  "But what if he is wrong, and love is not the way to break the spell? Loyalty is not the same as blind obedience. Another witch as powerful as the one who cursed you might be able to lift the enchantment. I have...heard such things can happen." She bit her lip, as if she wanted to say more but didn't dare let the words out.

  Vardan snorted. "In folktales and legends, perhaps. If my brother had wished to lie, or give me bad counsel, he would not have given me such an impossible task to break the spell. Either seduce a woman when none will even look at me, let alone love me, or kill a woman who does not deserve it. You are a woman, Lady Belle, so you tell me: could you love me?"

  Those violet eyes turned on him, and he dropped his gaze so he wouldn't see the pity in them.

  "I am not the sort of sheltered maiden who falls in love with the first man she meets. I scarcely know you, Vardan. I do not understand how you could lay under such a fearsome curse for five years and not seek help to lift it."

  Now he lifted his head to meet her gaze. No woman had looked at him the way she did, as though he was not a beast. "For five years, I have been busy. Discharging my responsibilities as the Trade Master of this island. Fighting pirates, as you shall see. And in all those years...you are the first woman who can stand to look at me. For five years, I have had no hope of breaking the curse. Yet today...I begin to believe it might be possible. I ask you again: could you love me?"

  Long did he look into her eyes, for he was loath to look away, even as a tear slipped down her cheek. Only then did Vardan feel the shame he should have felt earlier, in driving a woman to pain and tears. He was not usually so unchivalrous.

  "I am sorry. I should not have asked such a personal question. Can you forgive me, Lady Belle?" he asked.

  She nodded, and her silence returned. Somehow, this time it was worse.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Zuleika cursed herself for opening her mouth. Vardan was loyal to his lying brother, and as long as he believed the king over her, he would never understand that it took much more than love to break a spell as powerful as the one on Beacon Isle. If he would only listen...

  She'd been so caught up in the curse itself that she hadn't seen his question coming. One she did not know the answer to. Could she love him?

  She was capable of love, for she loved her family. She had no husband or betrothed, so if she chose, she could give her hand and her heart to any man she wished. If by some miracle Vardan turned out to be the complete opposite of his brother, despite looking like him under the illusion, then perhaps, it was faintly possible that, if he were charming enough and she stayed for sufficient time, that she might...maybe...be capable of such a thing. Possibly.

  But she had no right to raise his hopes, because she knew it didn't matter. Even if she loved him madly and married him, the curse would remain. And until she relieved him of his affliction, she had no right to his heart or his gratitude, and no business falling in love with anyone.

  She bit her lip as Embarr carried her into the fishing village, whispering a spell under her breath that would allow her to see what the curse hid once more. She knew better than to look at Vardan, but she found she needed little reminding this time. As evening fell, the villagers had stopped work for the day, and they seemed to be preparing for some kind of festival.

  "What is the date? Is it a saint's day, or some other holy occasion that I have forgotten?" she asked.

  The villagers, who looked very much like those at home, stopped to stare, but none seemed ready to volunteer an answer.

  "Please, will someone tell me what you are celebrating?" she persisted, her gaze sweeping across the dozen or so people before her. People who were not used to being seen.

  Finally, a man stepped forward. He ducked his head a few times before he ventured, "If it please you, m'lady, the prince gave the order that a feast should be prepared to celebrate his...your visit to Storhem. We have the best of today's catch, and he sent word from Harbourtown that the baker was to prepare special cakes to your ladyship's liking. Two tuns of wine were sent from the prince's cellars..."

  Hastily, Zuleika cut him off by expressing her thanks. This seemed to satisfy the man, who hustled the others off to the village square.

  Vardan reached her side.

  Zuleika allowed herself a glance at him before turning her head away. "Still trying to seduce me with food and wine, I see."

  She heard him sigh. "I am merely trying to entice you to stay," he said. "As you say, you've known me for less than a day. Perhaps if you remain on the island longer, you will get to know me better, and perhaps even consider..." She heard him swallow before he finished, "Helping all of these good citizens by lifting our curse."

  Stung, she turned to meet his gaze squarely. "I will help. But..." Conscious of the villagers who might hear her, and not wanting to smash their hopes as she had his, she subsided. Unable to stare at his face any longer, she dismissed her spell. Better not to frighten the villagers by seeing them when no one else could.

  "Thank you," was all he said. No more talk of love, to Zuleika's considerable relief.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Vardan tried to keep still in his seat between Lady Belle and the village headman at the high table in the village hall, but his eyes kept darting to look at her. It didn't help that they sat so close he couldn't help jostling her. It would be so easy to reach around her, pull her to him and kiss her.

  And make her hate him for the rest of his miserable life, he didn't doubt.

  She behaved like a proper lady, of course. Her eyes surveyed the noisy hall, though there was little to see except food disappearing from trenchers. She didn't look the least bit alarmed by the invisible crowd, and she even conversed with the headman's wife, who sat beside her. What was the woman's name? He couldn't believe he'd forgotten. He knew everyone on Beacon Isle.

  Lady Belle's musical laugher stole his attention entirely. "Prince Vardan, is it true what Birgitte tells me? That when you were a boy, you once stole a fishing boat and led the other fishermen a merry chase around the whole island before they caught up to you?"

  He'd forgotten that. "Yes," he said grudgingly, "but they did not catch up to me until I let them do so. I had a wager with my brother that I could singlehandedly sail around the island. There was a pretty maid we both liked and the winner of the wager would get a kiss, she said. So I rode up to Storhem, borrowed a fishing boat and set off. I sailed around the island, sure enough, and brought the little boat into Harbourtown, as proud as a prince could be. Then I gave the boat back to her owners. Not a scratch on her, I swear."

  Lady Belle's voice dropped low so that only he could hear it over the hubbub in the hall. "What did your brother say when you won the wager? Was the maid's kiss worth all that effort?"

  Vardan swallowed. This was the part he had never told a soul. "I do not know. When I arrived at the house, neither the maid nor my brother were anywhere to be found." Not by those who didn't know Thorn well, at least. For his brother...Vardan had found them doing much more than kissing. No, he did not want to remember that day, and he did not think it fit for a maiden's ears, either. Better for her to believe in chivalry and love and not all that animal grunting in the hayloft as two sweaty, naked bodies rutted like...well, beasts. Or that the girl had died trying to birth what Vardan assumed had been Thorn's bastard less than a year later. "How do you like the fish?" he asked.

  "Delicious," she replied. "I have never eaten fish cooked with saffron before. It is far too rare a spice to use where I come from, and yet here, I see the whole village eating more saffron in this one meal than I have eaten in my lifetime before today."

  Vardan frowned. "What do you expect? As you said earlier today, the purpose of trade goods is to be sold, not stockpiled, and when the goods are food...they must be eaten, or they spoil. Once the curse is lifted, we will be able t
o share the fruits of our saffron crops with the rest of the country, but while Beacon Isle is enchanted...we must use what we have. After all, without trade, we must grow all our own food. That includes spices."

  Lady Belle stared at him. "Saffron is grown here?"

  Hadn't he told her as much as they passed the crocus fields? "Of course. We rode past the fields on the way here."

  It was her turn to frown. "I must have been so deep in thought about your curse that I did not notice. When we pass by there again, please remind me what I missed."

  "Better to think about flowers than curses, Lady Belle. Thinking about this curse will not cure it, or someone would have lifted it already. Enough talk about curses for tonight. For cursed or no, this is a celebration feast and no feast is complete without dancing!" He roared the last word so that the whole hall would hear him.

  Tables and benches scraped as many hands pulled them to the side of the hall.

  "Dancing? Is that wise?" Lady Belle asked.

  "Wise? Perhaps not. But enjoyable, certainly. I have never met a woman who did not dearly like to dance. Will you be the exception to that, too, Lady Belle?" Vardan prayed that he hadn't made a mistake. All the ladies at court loved dancing, and he remembered the rowdier village dances here when he was a boy.

  "I own I enjoy dancing as much as my sisters, or any woman alive, but I meant is it wise to dance in a room full of people when most of them are invisible? I might not know the steps if the dances are different to those at home. What if I were to tread on someone's foot, or bump into them?"

  Vardan laughed. "A lady as graceful as you would never do such a thing, I am certain."

  "But, your Highness – "

  The wooden door to the hall crashed open and a man stood silhouetted in the open doorway. Breathlessly, he announced, "Ship sighted to the south. Two pirate vessels, closing fast."

  Of all the nights...Vardan cursed inwardly. There would be no dancing tonight. "Get her to safety," he called over his shoulder as he strode out of the hall. He should have checked the mirror this morning, as was his usual habit, to see if any merchant or pirate ships were nearby. He'd been so distracted by the woman that he'd forgotten, and the crew of this new ship might pay the price for his carelessness. The war against piracy was far more important than breaking some silly curse. Most days he remembered that, but today he'd been selfish. And now...

  "Where are you going?" Lady Belle demanded from right behind him.

  "Into battle, which is no place for a woman," he replied.

  "You also said it was a battle I must see to believe," she returned. Vardan wasn't sure how her eyes managed to flash in the darkness, yet they did.

  "The aftermath, yes, but not from the middle of the fighting. We lose men and boats all the time when we hunt pirates. They know they have nothing to lose and for all our advantages, some of our men still die in the skirmish. If anything were to happen to you...if you were hurt, thrown into the water, drowned, killed...Lady Belle, you do not know what you are asking."

  "I am not defenceless, you know," she said.

  Vardan sighed. "But you are visible."

  "So are you."

  "Which is why I will not be part of a hunting party," Vardan explained patiently. "I climb the watchtower and command the fleet while the ghost boats surround the ships. They dispatch the pirates, bring the cargo to shore, and any crew who remain take the ship's boats to safety. We have tried offering them sanctuary at Beacon Isle, but word has spread that the island is haunted, and no superstitious sailor wants to land here any more."

  "How can you possibly command ships so far out on the ocean?" Lady Belle demanded. "You cannot see them so far away. They cannot see you in the dark, and they could not hear you over the sounds of battle."

  "We have a code of sorts," Vardan began, then stopped. Was that why she was here? To learn the codes so that she could share them with pirates? Surely not. Or was it the magic mirror she was after? That would be a prize indeed, if she knew about it. If she did not, he would not be the one to tell her. Let her believe the code was their only means of communication. "It is of my own invention," he added with considerable pride.

  "And what do the village women do?"

  "They keep house, clear away the remains of the feast, put the children to bed, and see that when the menfolk return from a hard night's work, there is breakfast waiting for them in the morning," Vardan said. As good wives should, he thought but didn't say.

  "I will stand watch with you," she announced.

  He cursed. "No, woman, you will not." Without another word, he kicked Arion into a gallop, sure she would not follow.

  THIRTY

  Stubborn fool, Zuleika thought as she mounted Embarr. Did he honestly think she would allow farmers and fishermen to die in a battle she could end with a single spell? Or that she wouldn't do everything in her power to save the crew of the ship the pirates were attacking?

  She cast a spell to guide her to him, and was surprised to find Arion only a few hundred yards from the village, tied up outside the clifftop watchtower. Zuleika left Embarr beside her stablemate and set off up the stairs to the top of the tower, where loud swearing had erupted from several throats, including Vardan's.

  "Do we have enough people to take both ships? That pincer move is new. I want them all executed before they can pass word about that particular tactic on to their fellows."

  "We're not sure, master," said a second voice. "We've never tried to take on two ships at the same time before."

  Zuleika peered out of one of the tower windows as she climbed. The three ships were surprisingly easy to see, lit up by some peculiar kind of fire that floated on the water without extinguishing.

  Magic. It had to be. First Thorn, now pirates. Would all the scum of the earth enslave witches? This would not be borne.

  Already simmering with anger, Zuleika now blazed with fury. She bit down so hard on her lip that it hurt, but she barely noticed the sting. "Pirate scum, show your true form," she murmured. "Never to be men again until you repent your wicked life and vow never to return to piracy." The spell shot out in a bolt of violet fire, splitting into two as it homed in on the pirate ships.

  She both felt and saw the spell take effect, bursting into clouds of purple sparks on the decks of all three ships. Only then did she see the fishing fleet close in around the vessels, looking eerily empty in the floating firelight.

  Whispering a second spell, she sent it out across the waves to search for the witch, but the spell circled the ships without settling on anyone. If there was no spellcaster aboard the ships, how on earth could water burn so?

  She hurried up to Vardan. Perhaps he could answer her question. "Send word to Sillhem to ready their boats," she heard him say. "Have the men of Raggarn ready to receive the cargo. And the women...ask them to pray and prepare for the wounded. This will not be an easy fight."

  As she entered the room, two men swept past her, heading down the steps to carry out Vardan's orders. Vardan was too busy peering out the window to notice her, so she took a deep breath and cast her mind toward the ships. There was no fighting, merely the salvaging of cargo before the merchant ship sank. One of the pirate ships had rammed it, and water already gushed through the splintered bow.

  So that was the Rosa's fate. Impaled by a pirate ship. Had the Rosa's demise been lit by the same strange candles dotting the sea surface now?

  "How goes the battle?" she asked.

  Vardan glanced back at her and swore under his breath. "I told you to stay in the village where it is safe, not follow me." In this light, he looked like an eagle now, with beakish nose and bright, searching eyes.

  Zuleika took a step closer to him. "It seems safe enough here. No pirates, and the ships are so far away. I did not realise you could see so clearly from here, even at night."

  He stared at her for a long moment before he said, "That's Greek fire. A strange substance that burns even in water. I've seen it cling to a man's clothes and burn him al
ive, no matter how many buckets of water we threw at him. Among men of honour, it is considered too terrible a weapon to use on an enemy, but pirates have no honour and will resort to such tactics to win. Battle is not pretty, Lady Belle, and one with pirates is uglier still."

  So it wasn't magic at all. No wonder she had not found a witch. "I have seen it before. Naphtha, they called it. Water is the wrong element to combat it with. What you need is earth. You must smother it with dust."

  "Better to smother the pirates who know how to make it, so that they cannot use it again," he said grimly. Now, he surely looked like a shark, the cold, predatory fish that killed without conscience. What kind of curse transformed his face from moment to moment? As if it did not simply turn him into a beast, but the beast that best reflected his thoughts at any given time. "The only good pirate is a dead one."

  Zuleika agreed with the sentiment, but still she said, "There are not many men who know how to make Greek fire, as you call it. The secret was known to a djinn who was enslaved to a lamp in punishment for sharing the secret of its fabrication with his king's enemies." A particularly pesky djinn she knew to be safe in the same enchanted cave where she'd imprisoned him. "More likely, they stole a cargo that contained some of the stuff."

  "Perhaps," Vardan said, his gaze returning to the ships. "We shall see what my people bring ashore." He pointed at the fleet of boats clustered around the three ships. As if on command, one peeled away from the cluster and headed for shore.

  Finally, Zuleika understood. "You man the watchtowers, watching for pirates or ships in trouble. Then, you send out your ghost fleet to do battle with the pirates. Once they have defeated the pirates, they bring the cargo from the stricken ship ashore. Are all the ships sunk?"

  "Not all. Sometimes, when we have enough warning, we can save the merchant ship and it continues on its way. But word has spread about the ghost fleet, so savvy pirates flee when they see us. Yet a pirate who flees is not defeated, so we remain vigilant, for we know they will return, as they did today. They may lack honour, but they are still men who learn from their mistakes."