The Beast and The Sibyl

by AJ Adams

  I felt for her and I wanted her, so I tried to give her a gift. “I’ll kill him for you.”

  Her eyes were wide open with shock. “Are you insane? You can’t kill a servant of Ullr!”

  “Priests are untouchable, but this one’s a cheat.” I told her about the battle that had taken place in Brighthelme the year before, and what had happened after. “So you see, he broke his sacred vow to uphold justice.”

  “Bloody typical!” Bliss said furiously. “He’s a monster!”

  I appreciated the attitude. “I’ll get rid of him.”

  But Bliss was shaking her head. “No, absolutely not.”

  “It would be safer. His mind is twisted.” I told her about the events in the jail cell. “It’s a coward’s act to torture a helpless man. There’s no way the Patriarch is a holy man. Not even Loki would have him.”

  “Who?”

  Bliss didn’t know our gods, except for Freyja, but even after I told her about the shape-shifting trickster god, she was shaking her head. “Killing is wrong,” she said.

  I couldn’t believe it. “I told you, the Patriarch is evil. And even if he weren’t, I have a case for vengeance.”

  “I don’t give a damn about your vengeance!”

  We stared at each other. I was completely taken aback. The most important thing we have in life is honour. You can have all the loot and thralls in the world, but you’re nothing if you don’t have your reputation. We live and die by the respect we’re given.

  Clearly Bliss didn’t understand. It must be her Prydain upbringing. “Bliss,” I explained gently, “he injured me. I was humiliated. The balance must be restored.”

  “Oh, get over it!”

  She was clueless, and I was speechless. How on earth can people live without honour?

  It hurt me just to say it. “There’s no way you’re one of us.”

  “Exactly.” Bliss lifted her chin in a nasty way. “I’m no Beast!”

  “Hey!”

  But Bliss turned her back on me and flounced off to her room. Women! There’s just no understanding them. But despite it all, I still wanted her, and I was determined to make her mine.

  Chapter Seven: Bliss

  The bloody bugger! Rude, violent, and murderous! I was really regretting saving him. “There’s no way you’re one of us.” He said it like that was a tragedy, and I snapped right back at him, “I’m no Beast!”

  I was raging because I was dead scared. The connection between us had me walking right into his dreams. One moment I was afraid, hiding in his arms from the thunder and lightning like a frightened child, and the next I was standing behind him.

  “Look what we have!”

  I was there, reliving his past in all its vivid senses. The smell of candle fat, greasy and heavy, the gentle protectiveness he felt for his little sister and brother, and the sharp scent of snow that blasted into the air when the door opened flooded through me.

  Then I’d drifted and fallen straight into another dream, this time with him on top of me, his hands in my hair, his lips on my breasts. I was awash in his emotion, lust mingled with fierce protectiveness. It had invaded me, kindling sweet craving and the fire of want. It had been delicious, sensuous delight yet terrifying at the same time.

  I’d woken up half frightened and half angry, aware of my racing heart and tight breath, not knowing if it was my dream, his, or ours.

  Siv clearly didn’t have a clue what was going on. “It was a dream,” he said gently.

  I pretended to agree but dipping into his past unsettled me. I didn’t want to think about the other. The warm bulk of muscle, gentle as he cradled me, his blue eyes gazing into mine, and the shock of the light hair, cropped short but shining like ice in the sun. The alien look was startlingly familiar. It was what I saw in the mirror.

  My cowardly self whined that I should’ve stuck to the plan, drugged him into oblivion and left him to his fate. But I hadn’t, because of my stupid bloody principles, and now it was coming back to haunt me. If anyone found out, there would be no mercy.

  I reminded myself of the visions. The Beast hadn’t confronted the squire and his hunters, and so the future with us being burnt at the stake had been avoided. Still, it made me nervous just to have him around.

  Although he’d convinced me the Brighthelme debacle had been instigated by the Guild, everyone in Prydain knew that Beasts are vicious. This one snarled and snapped often enough to have me on edge. Even the way he looked was menacing. And every time he took a deep breath, the wolf on his abs flexed, looking ready to attack.

  I want her. Mine! He was filled with lust, too. It was so strong that it almost swept me away with him. His want filled my mind, tightened my body and halted the breath in my chest. It took an act of will to regain my balance.

  Given the reputation of the Beasts, I might have been afraid, but thankfully my talents told me he didn’t pose a danger. Along with the passion, I felt a steely self-control. Siv was determined to respect me. However, I still had a bad-tempered, bloody minded Beast in my home. Worse, with the storm, I’d be stuck with him for days, dipping in and out of his mind, drowning in his rage, ferocity, and despair.

  I dealt with it by ignoring him. I sorted through my basket of dried herbs, inventoried my tonics, and then I took out a tunic I’d been making for myself. I added extra material along the seams, broadening and lengthening it.

  It took me most of the day, so it was dusk when I finally tossed it to him. The Beast had been awake but silent, but now he was staring at me in complete surprise. “For me? You made this for me?”

  “Well, you won’t fit in mine, and you can’t go about just in leathers.”

  He was touched, I could see it in his eyes. It surprised me.

  “Bliss, you’re very generous. Thank you.”

  When he put it on, it camouflaged the rippling muscles, but he didn’t look any the less menacing.

  To cover my discomfort, I just chatted on. “I have socks for you, too. And I’ll put together a travel pack.” Just to remind him that he wasn’t staying forever. “I’ve got a spare steel and flint, and you can have my fish knife, but you’ll only be able to carry a day or two of rations.”

  “Don’t worry about me. If I have a knife, I can work the rest.”

  Right. He’d probably kill and rob someone. But I didn’t say it. “It really is no trouble.” And I’d be glad to see the back of him.

  I heated leftover stew for our supper and afterwards, while I was cleaning and putting away the bowls, I found Siv at my shoulder, looming over me darkly. For a moment, my breath caught in burgeoning panic. It wasn’t just the strength and size of him, it was the whole wild package. An untamed earthy scent that reminded me of Saga and a feeling of tension. Also, he was putting out a tonne of heat. Although he wasn’t touching me, I felt it blazing against my skin.

  I held onto the supper bowl, ready to whack him if he tried anything, but as it turned out, he was trying to be nice. “Can I help with something? Wash the bowls or clean the floor?”

  That opened my eyes. “Uhm, it’s okay.”

  “I know Prydain men are lazy, but we Skraeling divide work fairly.”

  That stung. “Well, we may not be fair about housework, but at least we don’t go burning down cities!”

  “Hey!” He was glaring at me, and all the tattoos on his arms were writhing.

  “Well? Can’t deny it, can you?”

  “The Prydain are our enemies!”

  “I’m Prydain!”

  For a moment I thought he’d yell, but then he just smiled. “You’re Skraeling from the tip of your pearly hair to the way you’re about to kill me for disagreeing with you.”

  “Am not!”

  He grinned at me, muscles popping all over the place, and suddenly I had the wild thought that he might try and kiss me. “Don’t you touch me!”

  The pale eyes were mocking, “I wouldn’t dare.”

  I stomped off to my room in order to get away from him, and for a m
oment I wondered if it was safe to sleep. He went back to sit in front of the fire, still bruised, yet dangerously feral with his tattoos shimmering in the low light.

  Maybe I should’ve worried, but Saga went right up to him and sat at his feet, moaning with delight when he reached down and rubbed her ears. The wolf was thoroughly enjoying herself. I was ignoring the fact that I’d done so very recently myself. It was just a warm body, I told myself. A refuge in the thunderstorm.

  Also, there was that gentleness towards his little sister and that ocean of despair. There was great loss there. An immense tragedy. I’d felt it in his mind.

  Considering that, I felt for him. “I’m going to sleep,” I called out on impulse. “If you’re hungry later, there’s food in the larder.”

  “Thanks.” The word was polite, but from the stony look that went with it, he didn’t like me. Frankly, I didn’t care. I closed my eyes, and two seconds later I was out.

  I woke up to the smell of frying bacon. Saga was gone, and there if there were any doubt as to where she might be, the sound from the kitchen told me exactly what was going on.

  “You’re a cheat and a thief,” Siv’s rumbling voice carried through clearly. “As for you two, you can forget that innocent look. There’s bacon grease on your whiskers.”

  Saga and the girls had faked the Beast out, the wolf distracting him while the cats swiped the food from the pan. They had perfected their teamwork when Saga was a cub.

  “You might have left me some.” Although he was lecturing, I heard only amusement in his voice. “You’re greedy as well as unprincipled.” There was a rattling of crockery. “Well, at least you shared among yourselves.”

  I got up and joined them. “The cats have learned that if they don’t drop a bit for her, Saga will lick them all over in revenge.”

  He still looked like he’d been trampled by a herd of stampeding bulls, but he was moving easily, and he was grinning. “Luckily there’s eggs.” He was digging through my onion basket. “Two eggs or three? With onion or without?”

  “Two, with whatever you’re having.”

  There are male chefs in the nine cities, but the village men would rather wear a dress than pick up a pan. Yet here was this super macho man, scrambling eggs, cutting bread and making tea—for me! I just sat there, rubbing Saga’s ears, watching with mingled surprise and delight.

  Even with taped fingers, he was efficient. In short order I had a steaming cup of tea and a plate of deliciously creamy eggs enriched with diced onion. It went downhill from there.

  When I left a little on my plate, he frowned. “Don’t waste.” He wiped my plate clean with a bit of bread. Then he ate the onionskin.

  “There’s more if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m good.”

  And then he ate the eggshells.

  “Have some bread and honey, Siv.”

  “I’m good.”

  “You ate the eggshells!”

  The blue eyes glowered. “Don’t waste!”

  I usually save them, they keep slugs out of my lettuce, but I wasn’t going to argue. The storm was still raging, with the wind whistling around us and rain falling in sheets, which meant I had an excuse to take a lazy day. I don’t get many of those, and I didn’t want to waste it fighting.

  So I shut up and set about enjoying a peaceful morning, brushing Saga and the girls in front of a roaring fire.

  The Beast watched at first, but I sensed restlessness coming off him. I thought he might be worried. “The river has burst its banks, so the paths are flooded. Nobody’s coming. They’re all stuck at home.”

  “I’ll go and hunt.”

  “You’re in no state.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “All the animals are in hiding.” I thought his homesickness was hitting him hard, so I tried to make conversation. “Tell me about your village. How many of you are there?”

  Big mistake!

  “Who told you to ask that?” he snapped.

  “Who do you think? The duke!”

  “What?” He was on his feet, towering over me, tattoos bristling and so close that I could smell him. Hot musk, rich yet sweet, like Bygul and Trigul when they’ve been playing in the forest. The scent was familiar and friendly, but he was certainly not.

  For a second I couldn’t breathe, and then he stood back abruptly. “Sorry. I thought… Sorry.”

  I was fuming, so I pushed right back. “What? You’re going to kill me now?”

  “No, of course not.” His voice was gentle. “I didn’t think. Of course you wouldn’t understand.”

  “I was trying to make conversation, and I was joking about the duke!”

  “Yes, I should have known.” He was still being nice. Suspiciously so.

  “What? Am I missing something?”

  “You’re just naive.”

  That set me back. “I’m naive? You’re a Beast—”

  “Hey!”

  “Okay, okay! Skraeling! Sheesh, lighten up!”

  He was looking thunderous again. “How would you like to be called an animal?”

  “Oh, come on! You’re just grumpy because you miss your brothers.”

  “How do you know that?” The blue eyes were gazing into mine, narrowed with speculation. “I didn’t tell you that!”

  Bugger! I’d seen it in his mind. But I wasn’t going to say that. “I guessed.” No, it wasn’t going over. This was a clever Beast. Okay, Skraeling.

  I improvised. “You live together, sail together and fight together, right?”

  A long pause and then he nodded. “Yes.”

  “Well, it’s not hard to see that kind of thing would make strong bonds.”

  He nodded, but I could see he was still suspicious. “Stop calling me names!”

  “All right already!”

  He threw himself back into the chair. I was angry, too, but after steaming for a while, I couldn’t help but notice his breathing. I got out the poppy. “A half teaspoon will help the pain.”

  “How did you know?” Siv was bristling again.

  “You’re pricklier than a hedgehog!” I was fed up with it. “I can tell by the way you breathe, moron!”

  “Hey!”

  “Shut up and take the damn medicine!”

  He visibly calmed himself. “You mean well.”

  “Yeah, I’m a stupid but well-meaning witch!”

  “I already apologised for that!” The tattoos were all over the place. “And I’m not a damn stupid fool moron beast!”

  We were glaring at each other, and I would’ve yelled some more, but I could see he was hurting. And the memory of his desolation swept through me. “Siv,” I said gently as I held out the medicine, “this will help you breathe easier.”

  “I’m okay.”

  Stubborn bugger. “Come on now. Be sensible.”

  He took it, grudgingly, and I had to ask, “Why would I save you if I wanted to kill you all?”

  He sighed. “You need to know your enemy in order to destroy him.”

  “You mean I would save you, pump you for information and then—?” I just stared at him. “That’s seriously twisted! Evil!”

  He was smiling at me. “You’re a good woman, Bliss. Honest, straightforward, and true.” That would’ve been okay but then he added, “You’re not like the Prydain at all.”

  “Hey!”

  And that brought us another long silence.

  Seeing we’d possibly kill each other if we talked more, I got out the brush and worked on Saga’s coat. She takes care of it herself, but she gets tangles in her paw-pits sometimes, so I help her out. As I combed the soft fur, I felt myself relax. The rain lashed down, the wind howled, but we were safe, warm, and dry indoors.

  “I didn’t mean it.” He was tense, but the glowering dialled down. “It’s just—” he motioned at his ribs. “It makes me short-tempered.”

  I suppressed snarky remarks about warriors being above pain. “No problem.”

  He smiled and then relaxed. “What do
you want to know?”

  We were playing nice. “Why did you come to Prydain?”

  And we were tense again. I could feel a dark wave coming from him. Not anger. Sorrow. It was so strong that I felt my eyes well with sympathetic tears.

  “We lost our home.”

  My chest was tight with tension. “How?” I gasped.

  The blue eyes were on mine. “What do you know about Thule?”

  “It’s the ice continent. A frozen waste.”

  “It wasn’t. I mean, we had long hard winters, but in summer the fields were filled with grasses and wildflowers. We had woods rich with rabbits and deer.” He spoke simply, looking into the fire so that I couldn’t see his face. “When I was little, the summers faded. We hungered but survived. Then, five years ago, they stopped.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The sun turned cold, too cold to melt the winter snow. The grass died, the wildflowers vanished, and all the animals disappeared.”

  Saga was looking at me, licking my hand comfortingly. Then she looked at the Beast, got to her feet and went to sit with him. Despite the closed expression, she knew he needed her.

  I just sat there staring at him. “But that makes no sense! The seasons don’t just stop! What happened?”

  “We don’t know.” He was tugging Saga’s ears, rubbing them so that she collapsed on top of him with happy moans. “Some of our old people thought we might have angered the gods.” He was remembering, half talking to himself. “But even Loki in his wildest moods wouldn’t kill all of us.”

  What can you say to a man who has lost everything? “What did you do? How did you survive? How did you live without crops and hunting?”

  “We fished, and there was seaweed. But not enough. Many died.”

  I remembered the rumours. The Beasts were cannibals.

  Siv knew what I was thinking. “Those who passed were sacrificed so others would live.”

  I felt sick. They’d been so hungry that they’d eaten their dead.

  “We knew we were ending, so we built ships.”

  He said it as if it were a walk in the park, but as he talked, I understood it had been a colossal project the like of which had never been seen. They’d cut down their forest and worked day and night in shifts, even in the depths of winter. Their effort created a fleet that could hold their surviving people, all five thousand of them.