Five Enchanted Roses: A Collection of Beauty and the Beast Stories

by Kaycee Browning

  “What am I supposed to do?” he demanded of a grotesque beak-nosed gargoyle.

  The gargoyle pointedly refused to look at him. Growling, Barend rose to prowl on the slate tiles. A question whispered in his soul, prodding him gently. It was a question he had avoided for two years, but now it hit him full strength. Did the Beast truly overpower him when he crossed the boundary, or, like a negligent jailor, did he allow its escape? Did he hide behind the Beast in order to stay sequestered in Thorndale Castle? He had ever considered himself a courageous man, yet was it the curse or his pride that kept him from leaving?

  “It takes over,” he argued, stalking back and forth. “I remember nothing once I’m outside the boundary.”

  Do you? the gargoyle seemed to ask.

  “What if I hurt her? I can’t protect her from myself.”

  Did you honestly not recognize her when she came after you?

  He shook himself and uttered an animal roar. Karyna had reached the gates and turned south toward Rivenloch. Respect for her confidence and courage filled his heart. A part of him had known she would not wait to discuss the matter further. He had seen the look in her eye the evening before and understood it. Was this not why he had risen earlier than usual and climbed the front tower instead of the one at the back of the castle? Reckless though it may be, Karyna had made her decision. Now it was his turn to decide.

  “I can’t go with her. I’ll only hinder her quest.”

  Karyna’s figure vanished in the distance. Barend showed his teeth at the gargoyle, and a rumble of thunder rolled deep in his throat. His body flowed down the castle wall and over the ramparts with fluid strength.

  He had made his choice: It was time to embrace the Beast.

  Chapter 4

  NIGHT FELL EVEN as the lone traveler rode his horse into the courtyard of Thorndale Castle. A pale, waning moon hung in the sky as he swung down off his mount and ascended the steps to the great oak doors. He lifted the heavy iron knocker and rapped sharply, sending echoes resounding through the halls inside. He waited impatiently, knocking again several times before he heard footsteps coming.

  An older woman opened the door and raised a candle to illuminate his face. He blinked at the sudden light.

  “Who is there?” Her voice sounded apprehensive, but as her eyes scanned his appearance her fear visibly lessened.

  The traveler touched his forehead with a little bow and spoke politely. “Good evening, mistress. I have come to speak with Prince Barend. Can you tell him that an old friend is here?”

  The old servant’s eyes grew worried. “I’m sorry . . . You are . . . from Norvue, my lord?”

  He nodded, reining in impatience. “I am aware that the prince cannot leave the palace grounds. Please. I know he wouldn’t refuse to see me after I’ve traveled all this way.”

  “Regardless, he’s gone.” The woman made a helpless motion with her hands and suddenly became talkative. “I am sorry, my lord, but there it is! My guess is he’s gone to Rivenloch Palace, just south of Mirhaven. That’s where Karyna was headed, in any case, and I’m assuming he went after her.” The old woman shook her head with a grumble. “What either of them was thinking I’ll never know. Karyna is—”

  Losing patience, he interrupted her ramblings. “When did Barend leave?”

  She stiffened. “Yesterday morning, my lord.”

  The traveler tried not to reveal his frustration and disappointment. This was the last thing he had expected to greet him at the end of his journey. But he was not one to let unexpected complications deter him. “My undying gratitude for this information, mistress.” With a polite nod he turned and bounded down the steps. In one easy motion he mounted his horse and reined it toward the road.

  “Wait! What will you do?” the servant shouted after him, nervous again.

  The horse wheeled back to face her, champing impatiently, and its rider called, “If I hurry I might be able to catch them! Never fear: I intend to offer my help, such as it may be.” The traveler gave another quick salute; then his horse spun toward the highway and broke into a canter.

  In his heart the traveler knew he would not get far this night. His faithful horse, though loyal and tough, was weary from many days of travel. He smoothed its mane and gave its sweaty neck an encouraging pat. “Just a few more miles, Tarak, old boy.” So they pressed on, alternating between walk and trot until the sun dipped low over the horizon.

  In a matter of weeks the traveler would turn twenty-one, and he needed to find Barend before that day came.

  The early-summer weather was lovely and nights were warm. However, Karyna’s sense of adventure was nearly depleted. Sleeping on the ground had quickly lost all appeal, and endless days in the saddle were exhausting. She had spent two nights in villages, but usually inns were more than a day’s journey apart. The legends of intrepid heroes never mentioned how uncomfortable and hard the ground was or how noisy nocturnal creatures could be.

  But now as the afternoon of her eighth day of travel waned, she was within a few miles of Mirhaven, her journey nearly at an end. She straightened in the saddle and rolled her shoulders, trying to stretch her aching back and blinking exhaustion from her eyes. A tendril of worry at the thought of facing the enchantress wound its way through her thoughts, but she stubbornly pushed it away. There would be time to deal with that later.

  “Almost to Mirhaven, Pippa,” Karyna muttered. “Hopefully we’ll be able to stay there tonight.”

  For lack of conversation, she had taken to talking to her horse. Karyna had once thought the halls of Thorndale Castle lonely, but now she knew true solitude. She found herself recalling and missing her interactions with Barend. Sometimes they had simply walked in the garden together as Karyna watered and weeded. At other times they discussed favorite music and plays, argued about philosophy, or laughed about their shared experiences as children. “Remember the time . . . ?” had been a frequent query, followed by fond and reminiscent smiles.

  Norvue and Suvall had always been allies, and the royal families frequently exchanged friendly visits. Many times Karyna had accompanied Princess Bellenya for summer holidays at Norvue’s palace, where the two girls played with the royal children. Karyna knew there had been hopes that the two kingdoms might be united through marriage, but such hopes died the night the curse fell.

  Out here on the road she was more alone than ever before, having encountered no other travelers in the past two days. As a strange sense of foreboding fell over her, her sleepy reminiscences vanished into vigilance.

  Shadows deepened, and the wooded path was empty. A twig snapped somewhere off to the left, and she flinched, making Pippa break into a nervous jog. “Steady, girl. Nothing to fear,” Karyna said, but her voice sounded tense, and Pippa remained unconvinced.

  Although her journey thus far had been without incident, Karyna had sensed for the past few days that she was being followed. Despite the lack of evidence, her fear deepened with each passing moment. She urged Pippa to a quicker trot, and the mare willingly lengthened her stride, ears flicking, muscles taut. The back of Karyna’s neck prickled, and her stomach clenched in senseless dread . . . of what? Surely her imagination was running amok and Pippa was only sharing her fear. Desperately she strove to compose herself.

  But then, close behind them an eerie howl rose, and another joined in weird harmony. Karyna cried out in fright, and Pippa, with a terrified squeal, charged off the path and into the woods. Branches whipped past, raking at Karyna. She leaned forward, clinging desperately to the mare’s neck and barely keeping hold of the reins. The silver mane whipped across her face, making it hard to see.

  “Whoa, whoa, girl!” Karyna gasped. “Steady, easy, whoa!”

  She sawed on the reins, but to no avail. She gave up hope of controlling her horse and focused instead on merely hanging on. Terrible howls and yelping cries echoed through the trees, seeming to surround and close in around her. Then Pippa leaped over a fallen tree, and Karyna lost her balance and felt hersel
f falling.

  She hit the ground hard on her right shoulder, then tumbled to a sprawling stop and lay struggling to draw breath as the world spun above her and Pippa thundered on into the forest. A dim sense of urgency made her push herself upright and scoot backward to rest against a tree trunk. Once the pounding in her head slowed, she heard panting and eager whining; and as her vision cleared, she began to see gleaming fangs and dripping tongues.

  The wolves had caught up to her, and now they circled, their eyes bright with hunger. Helpless, almost despairing, Karyna cast about for a stick she might use to fend them off. Her eyes alighted on a thick branch, and she reached out a trembling hand to grasp it and drag it into her lap, all the while knowing the futility of her actions.

  “Well, what have we here?”

  The voice was so unexpected that at first Karyna thought she had imagined it. She stared in disbelief as a tall thin man stepped out of the shadows, paused near one of the wolves, and rubbed its ear insouciantly.

  Karyna blinked then looked again at the pack of creatures surrounding her. What she had mistaken for wolves were actually dogs, twelve of them—lean, vicious, and snarling, but not wolves. This should have relieved her, yet it merely served to alarm her further. Tightening her grip on the stick, her back still pressed against the tree, she pushed herself to her feet.

  “I apologize if my dogs here caused you undue fright,” the man said in a drawling accent. “They caught a scent and run off before I could stop them.”

  He came closer, and Karyna lifted her branch as a barrier. “They scared my horse,” she replied stiffly.

  “Your horse?” The man looked in the direction of Pippa’s flight as he fiddled with the lace on the collar of his dark green waistcoat. He shook his long yellow hair out of his eyes. “It won’t get far. That way leads to a dense thicket. If it don’t stop, it’s liable to get its tack all caught up in the thorns. Don’t worry, we’ll get your horse.”

  Karyna did not like the way he had phrased that last statement. “I would appreciate the help,” she said cautiously. “But I wouldn’t wish to be a burden to you, and your dogs might scare my horse even more.”

  “Don’t worry about that; they’ll stay back if I tell them to.” He scratched his upper lip where a few days’ worth of stubble grew. Karyna guessed his age at a few years older than she was. “You, uh, you out here alone?”

  The question seemed innocent enough, but Karyna did not like the way he was looking at her. “Can you show me this thicket?” she asked, hoping to distract him from the question.

  “Mm-hmm.” A dangerous light glinted in the man’s eyes. “Before we bother with any of that, I have to ask: What do you think you owe me for traveling through my wood? A pretty miss like yourself, you’ve probably got some ideas.”

  Karyna tipped the forked end of her dead branch toward the stranger, fear fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “Your wood?” She masked the fear in fury, her face a storm cloud of indignation. “It’s no more your wood than it is mine.”

  A nasty smile twitched the corners of the man’s lips. He took a step forward and Karyna, despite herself, shrank back. The dogs crept forward, their teeth bared in feral grins. Karyna’s breath quickened and her heart throbbed in her ears. She adjusted her grip on the stick as panic flowed through her in a wave. Her thoughts careened wildly, yet no solution to her situation presented itself.

  Then a monstrous roar echoed through the woods, and an enormous form leapt out of the trees, landing in front of Karyna. If not for the tree at her back, she would have collapsed in startled fear. But the creature crouched with its hindquarters toward her and faced the dogs. Karyna recognized that shaggy form and the rumbling growls.

  “Barend!”

  As if her cry shattered some invisible barrier, the pack of dogs attacked their unknown opponent. The battle was swift and fierce, the air filled with furious snarls, yelps, and cruelly snapping teeth. One of the dogs lunged toward the beast’s hindquarters in an attempt to hamstring him, but Karyna jabbed at it with her stick until Barend knocked it away with a giant paw. Another slashed at his throat. Yet another sprang at the beast’s forelegs, teeth snapping viciously, thirsty for blood. Tails wagging, yelping in the joy of the hunt, the pack assailed their quarry; but the tree at his back, and Karyna, prevented them from surrounding him. They retreated for a moment, panting and calculating.

  The beast crouched, resting yet ready. Karyna felt blood pounding in her head, and her arms shook with fatigue and fear. Yet she held her stick with both hands. Dimly, as if through a fog, she heard the dogs’ master shouting at them and encouraging them to fight on. Barend would hold them off; she could not let herself doubt him.

  The attack returned in a rush of hot breath and sharp fangs. One of the dogs got around behind Barend and leapt on his back, driving its teeth into the thick, muscular shoulder. With an inhuman yell, Karyna swung her stick with all her might and knocked the dog to the ground. But in doing so she left the protection of her tree, a mistake she recognized when the creature recovered and turned on her, hackles raised and teeth bared. Her mouth went dry as she side-stepped toward another tree. The sounds of battle were suddenly muted to her ears, her whole being focused on this single predator threatening her.

  The dog launched itself at Karyna. She raised her stick, but there was a wrench and cracking sound as the dry wood snapped, and the dog’s weight and momentum knocked her flat on her back. For an instant she saw its flashing teeth and red maw—but its jaws snapped on empty air as Barend snatched it into the air. The hapless animal writhed and squirmed, then went limp and submissive with a pitiful whine.

  Karyna scrambled shakily to her feet and glanced about, but the other dogs were either down or skulking off in defeat. Rumbling like distant thunder, Barend held the pack leader clamped in his massive jaws. Before him stood the yellow-haired man, his face a picture of fear and rage.

  “Let him go!” The man’s voice was high-pitched, verging on hysteria. “Hey! Let him go!”

  The beast made a sharp, guttural sound deep in his throat, and the dog flinched and yelped. The man backed away, wild-eyed and visibly shaking.

  “We’ll leave the girl alone, I swear! You can have her! You’re free to roam, hunt, whatever you please,” the man gibbered. His eyes fixed on Karyna. “Witch of the Wood,” he gasped, “spare me!”

  Then he turned and fled. The beast dropped the dog. It dashed away, tail tucked between its legs, like a chastened puppy. The remaining dogs also fled after their master, leaving their fallen comrades behind.

  “Barend,” Karyna breathed. “Oh, you should not have come after me!”

  Still rumbling, Barend swung his heavy head around, and those wild eyes gazed into hers. She began to shiver uncontrollably. Her teeth chattered together and she took deep breaths, trying to control her reaction. Having saved her, would the beast now kill her?

  Seeing a flicker of recognition in his eyes, Karyna dared to hope. Cautiously, slowly, she reached out a hand and laid it on the beast’s great, blood-smeared muzzle. He did not flinch away, so she laid her other hand on his ruff and twined her fingers in the thick, coarse fur. For a long moment they stayed that way, girl and beast.

  “I can’t take you home,” she said at last, staring off into the forest. “Of course you knew that when you came after me. I’m glad you did,” she admitted. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t.” She turned her anxious gaze to his face. “Are you hurt? Will you let me help?”

  Barend lay down and put his head on his paws as Karyna checked him for wounds. There was a shallow, easily tended gash on his shoulder. She wanted to clean and dress it, but she could do little until she found her horse and supplies.

  “You’ll be fine for now. Come on then; we’d best go find Pippa.”

  The sky above the trees darkened and the crickets’ song became a full chorus. With Barend padding at her heels, Karyna wrapped herself tightly in her cloak. Its warmth about her shoulders
felt reassuring despite the mildness of the evening.

  She was even more glad of Barend’s presence, for she would never have found Pippa by herself. Barend seemed to understand this, and he moved ahead of her, limping a bit as he led her to the horse.

  Pippa had indeed managed to tangle her reins, and it took Karyna some time to get her loose. Eventually the frightened mare was freed and Karyna managed to calm her. She walked the horse about, patting her and murmuring soothingly.

  “All right, Pippa, all right. You’re safe now, girl, not to worry. You don’t have to do anything more tonight. We’ll set up camp here. I’ll light a fire, and you can graze. I think I have a few carrots left in the saddlebags. With the thicket at our backs and Barend watching over us we’ll be just fine.”

  The horse whickered and nudged at Karyna’s arm with her nose. Karyna smiled, and set about tending Barend’s wound. This accomplished, she built a fire and ate some of her rations. The meal was not satisfying but it was all she had. She comforted herself with thoughts of a hot meal in Mirhaven tomorrow.

  Much later, just as she was falling asleep, the thief’s words came back to her. What had he called her? Witch of the Wood? She would have to remember to ask about that when she reached Mirhaven.

  She tried not to think about what might happen if there was nothing in Rivenloch at all. What if the nightmares proved nothing more than dreams? What if she found no enchantress, no Bellenya, no way to break the curse? Karyna shook the pessimistic thoughts away, refusing to believe that her efforts might end in a vapor of futility.

  Darkness filled the woods around her as she spread out her bedroll. Once she closed her eyes, knowing that the prince was nearby, protecting her, Karyna felt as safe as she did in her own bed.

  Sorrow clung to her like a heavy robe as she paced the empty, ruined halls, her chest heaving with silent sobs. Her eyes were dry, too dry, as though she had wept all her tears and none were left. She stumbled, but no one came to assist her.