The Beast

by A R Davis

  Damien mostly watched from the side, usually trying to distance himself from as many people as possible. Valerie was a little disheartened by the sight. If she could be anyone she wanted, why couldn’t Damien? Sometimes I have to be unpleasant.

  Valerie was thoroughly tired by sundown. However, as soon as Damien asked her if she wanted to see the ocean before supper, she immediately forgot her fatigue. This was really what she was waiting for.

  She caught wind of the briny, salty scent before she saw it. Her belly fluttered with excitement; she found herself reaching for Damien’s hand and holding it rather tightly, to the point where he asked her if she was all right. She didn’t know why she should be so nervous. Maybe it was because she feared disappointment. This was built up so large in her head that she feared it would never match her expectations.

  It did.

  Like the festival, Valerie did not know where to direct her gaze first: the magnificent ships, larger than any building she had ever seen, or the dark blue ocean, so vast that she could not comprehend traveling across it. Behind the ships, the setting sun looked as though it was sinking into the water. How deep does it go? she wondered as she leaned over the railing. She could only see her stunned reflection looking back up at her. Water lapped gently at the docks where men were throwing fish at each other and pulling up nets from the depths. The salty breeze teased the hair around Valerie’s face and the edges of Damien’s cloak.

  “This has been one of the best days of my life,” Valerie said when she found her voice. She turned to Damien. “Thank you for taking me.”

  “I wasn’t going without you,” he replied.

  Valerie sheepishly looked back down at their reflections. “Do you think we’ll ever board a ship together?”

  “I don’t know,” Damien said. “Sailing is harder than traveling by foot. At least when you’re walking, you know there’s a good chance that you can go back.”

  “What if I don’t want to go back?”

  He looked at her. “What are you trying to say?”

  Valerie bit her lip. “What if…What if we just kept going? We don’t have to be trapped in that house forever.” As soon as she said it, she remembered that Damien still had Dante, and it was unlikely that he would want to leave him. Valerie only had Damien, and she didn’t know if she wanted to go anywhere without him, either.

  “Do you feel trapped?”

  “No, not at all. It’s just that seeing all of this made me feel like we could do anything.”

  Damien was silent for a moment. “Where would you want to go?”

  “The city on the sea. I want to know what a city looks like. I feel so ignorant about the things I haven’t seen. And I want…I want to go with you.” She added hurriedly, “Mostly because you would be able to show me around. I would absolutely hate getting lost.” Her palms were sweating on the railing. Why couldn’t she just keep quiet? “It was just a suggestion.”

  The uneasy silence was filled with questions that Valerie feared the answers to.

  “We’ll do it,” Damien announced.

  “What?” Valerie asked, not sure if she heard him correctly.

  “We’ll board a ship. I’ll take you to the city on the sea. We’ll go wherever you want.”

  Valerie released a breath of relief. If she was a braver lady, she would have reached up and kissed him. On the cheek, of course. “Really?”

  “With you,” he said. “Yes.”

  *

  The roads were too clogged with people for Young Aubrey to take his horse. It made no matter to him. Perhaps the walk would do him some good. The crowd made way for him, pointing and gasping. Few admired the craftsmanship of his mask or the brilliant red of his cape. Children gaped at him and pointed and asked their parents, “Who is that man?” “Someone very important,” was the reply. Clearly not important enough for you to know my name, Young Aubrey thought bitterly as he did his best to ignore the fascinated stares. He thought he would be used to such behavior, yet it still managed to prick his skin like a thorn. He shrugged his shoulders and walked with as much pride as he could muster.

  “May I ask where we are going, my Lord,” one of the guardsmen asked.

  “We’re simply going to enjoy the festival,” Young Aubrey replied. He spotted a few performers wearing masks of their own. They were fashioned in the shape of animal heads. Young Aubrey sneered. He deliberately turned away from them to walk down the road on his right, towards the smell of searing meat and fresh spice.

  “Why do such self-proclaimed civilized people decide to dress in such a vulgar manner?” Young Aubrey asked.

  “Some people take the celebration too far, my Lord,” his guard replied. He pointed up ahead of them. “For instance, look at that man over there. Dressed like a common criminal, in my opinion.”

  Young Aubrey stared at the black-cloaked figure that was making his way down the road. He felt a small twinge of fear but suppressed it. He sneered at the unsightly attire, though he had to admit he was fairly curious. Why would a man choose to hide his face?

  “I think someone is in love.”

  “What?” Young Aubrey snapped, inclining his head behind him to see which of his men made that stupid remark.

  “Thomas, sir. He can’t keep his eyes off that man’s female companion.” The guard nudged Thomas with his elbow.

  Young Aubrey returned his attention to the man, and saw that there was indeed a female companion walking by his side. She was smiling up at him, speaking to him as though he was another friendly face in the crowd. Young Aubrey passively thought she was rather pretty and couldn’t understand why she would associate herself with someone who didn’t even dare show his face.

  “I’m not in love,” Thomas protested. “I simply think I’ve seen her before, in Leola.”

  Young Aubrey raised his good eyebrow. “Is that so? How certain are you?”

  “A little,” Thomas replied. “Last time I saw the poor girl, I was informing her that her father was dead. I’m glad to see her well, if that is indeed her. It was quite a tragedy.”

  Young Aubrey spoke his next words slowly. “Then I wonder who on earth that man is.”

  “I’ve no idea, sir. Could be a relative. Could be her husband.”

  “They’re not intimate enough for him to be her husband.”

  The guard on his right chuckled. “Is my Lord in love too?”

  Young Aubrey watched as the black cloaked stranger and his companion disappear into the pub on their left.

  “I don’t know about love, but I do find myself rather parched. How would you gents feel about stopping for a drink?”

  *

  The Golden Apple was as loud and bawdy as any pub Damien had ever visited. In the far corner from where Damien and Valerie were sitting, two men were arm wrestling. A drunken man angrily threw his cup against the wall, creating a yellowish-brown splatter. Another man was playing the piano near the bar, badly, and yelling his love song more than actually singing it. Barmaids hurried from one table to the next, topping off drinks and delivering plates of fried pig skin. Damien knocked back his second drink in record time, praying that it would wash away all the lies he told. Valerie wrinkled her nose at the drink in front of her. Instead, she focused her attention on the plate of pig skin.

  “Are you all right?” Valerie asked.

  Damien took his last gulp and loudly set his cup down. “I’m fine,” he said. “I was just thirsty.” How many more lies was he going to tell today? He felt as though Valerie was eating his heart off her plate.

  “Is there anything you want to do while we’re here? I realize I’ve been sort of leading you around.”

  “I don’t mind.” As long as you’re happy, he thought. That’s the least I can do for you.

  “Is there any place you want to go? After this, I mean.”

  There was a confession choking his throat and staining his lips. I can tell her, and she will hate me and I can go back to…what? I didn’t have anything before this.
The real question he had to ask himself: How selfish am I?

  “Valerie –”

  At that moment, the door opened, and the noise faded into silence as a boy and his guardsmen stepped inside. The golden mask the boy wore glinted in the sparse light. The boy’s eyes flickered over to where Damien and Valerie sat. I remember you, Damien thought with a twinge of fear. He looked over at Valerie, who stared curiously at the boy.

  “What’s Lord Aubrey’s son doing here?” she whispered.

  Damien neither knew nor cared to know. “I think we should leave,” he muttered.

  Valerie stared dubiously at him. “Why?”

  “Patrons, please don’t let me disturb your fun,” Young Aubrey announced as he took his seat at one of the stools.

  “I would like to keep away from important people such as him,” Damien said.

  The noise started to pick up. Young Aubrey took in his surroundings as he drank, smiling pleasantly at the man who began to sing off key again. He raised a cup to his men.

  Valerie studied Damien’s blank face for a moment. “All right,” she said. “Should we go now?”

  “Wait.”

  Damien carefully raised his cup to his lips, though it had long been emptied. When he was done, he set his cup on the table and rose to his feet. Valerie followed suit. They were about to head for the door when Young Aubrey called out.

  “Miss? Excuse me, miss!”

  He maneuvered around the tables to approach them. Damien nearly grabbed hold of Valerie’s arm, nearly ran out the door and into the night. If she’s going to find out my misdeeds, I’d rather she hear it from me, he thought. Or maybe I’d rather she not know at all.

  Young Aubrey smiled at her, yet for some reason the expression appeared more natural on the golden half of his face. He dug into his pockets as he spoke, “Forgive me, miss, but I believe you may have dropped this on the road.” He procured a white handkerchief and held it out to her.

  “That’s not mine, sir,” Valerie said quickly.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, then.” Young Aubrey stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket. “I apologize for wasting your time, miss…?” He waited for her to fill in the blank.

  “Caraway.”

  “And would this fine gentleman be your husband?”

  “No,” Damien and Valerie said together.

  Young Aubrey’s good eyebrow rose. “Oh. Pardon me for assuming – Are you… betrothed?”

  Damien and Valerie started to talk over each other.

  “We’re not –”

  “He’s my –”

  “I’m her father.”

  It was the only thing he could come up with at the time.

  Young Aubrey’s good eye flitted between the two of them, and only his mask remained smiling. After several tense seconds, he started to laugh. “Oh, of course. I can see the resemblance.” He showed his teeth as he laughed.

  It took a moment too long for either of them to react. Valerie forced a laugh and gently placed her hand on Damien’s arm as a way of encouraging him to do the same. Damien gave a half-hearted chuckle.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Aubrey of Leola.” He gave a courteous bow. “Perhaps, as a way of apology, I could buy you both a drink?”

  “We need to be going,” Damien said curtly.

  “But thank you for the offer, my Lord,” Valerie added. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  Young Aubrey’s good eye lingered on Valerie too long. He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. Damien curled his hands into fists.

  “Likewise, my dear,” Young Aubrey said. “I do hope I get to see you again.”

  Valerie gave no reply. She bowed and quickly left with Damien.

  *

  Young Aubrey returned to his men. He addressed Thomas while staring at the patrons.

  “That girl I spoke with. You said her father is dead?”

  “If that is the girl I am thinking of, then yes. He is.”

  “What is her name?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure, my Lord. I believe her father’s surname was Mason.”

  Young Aubrey nodded and pressed his fingertips together.

  “Did you find out whom that man was, sir? Is he her husband?”

  “No, Thomas. He’s not her husband.”

  “Then who is he, my Lord?”

  The drunken man at the piano banged on the keys. His love song turned into choked warbling as he began to sob. Young Aubrey watched this tortured display for a few moments before answering.

  “He is a liar.”

  Chapter 23

  Valerie and Damien walked down the road in silence. It wasn’t an altogether comfortable silence and Damien wasn’t exactly sure where they were headed. It looked like they were coming across the square. At any rate, Damien was too preoccupied with thoughts on their encounter with Lord Aubrey. He could only imagine what Valerie was thinking. He wished he knew of some way to comfort her, to ease her mind. When she glanced at him, he could see the worry etched on her brow, and he could feel that she desperately wanted to ask him something. He did not know if she kept to herself out of good manners or if she did not want to know the answer. Even if she did ask, he did not know what he would tell her. This is my life, he thought.

  When they approached the square, they saw couples dancing around the fountain. A small band was playing in the corner besides a few barrels of wine. Those who did not dance helped themselves to a few cups and watched from the sidelines. It took a moment for Damien to notice that Valerie had stopped walking. He took two steps back to rejoin her.

  “Would you like to…dance?” Valerie asked. Her eyes darted across his face. A slow blush painted her cheeks.

  How best to answer this question without hurting her feelings…that was the endless struggle, wasn’t it? He cleared his throat. “I’m, uh – I’m still a bit sore.” He patted his side. “I don’t think I’d make a good dance partner.” The truth was his side had not pained him for quite some time. However, he needed an excuse, and for now that was all he had.

  “Oh. Right.” Valerie nodded at the ground. “I only thought…Well, I suppose I wasn’t thinking.”

  Damien looked over at the dancers. “Why don’t you go over there and join them? I’m sure somebody would…” He couldn’t finish the rest of it.

  Valerie followed his gaze then turned back to him, uncertain.

  “Go ahead,” he said. He pointed to a general direction by the band. “I’ll just be over there somewhere, keeping an eye on things.”

  Valerie opened her mouth to say something but appeared to change her mind. She offered a small smile. “All right.”

  He watched her walk away. She met up with a group of girls who excitedly embraced her. Damien’s old gunshot wound had flared up again. Was it out of guilt? Shame? He did his best to ignore it.

  There didn’t seem to be a place for him beside the band or the inviting wine barrels, so he leaned against a closed shop and crossed his arms.

  A young man began to dance with Valerie. He did not have to hear her to know that she was laughing.

  Every now and then, Damien would lose sight of her in the crowd, and a sudden fear clenched his chest like a fist. The truth was he was jealous. Of her. Of the man. Of the men that she would have. Of the one that would take her to bed and the one whose last name she would take in return. Of the places she would go and the fear she would not have when she went to them. Of the life that she would lead without him.

  The song ended and the dancers applauded. Valerie and the young man were catching their breaths as they waited for the band to play another song.

  That’s when Lord Aubrey stepped into view.

  Damien stood at attention as he watched Lord Aubrey cut in between Valerie and the young man. Valerie looked over Lord Aubrey’s shoulder to see her previous partner grab the hand of another girl. She had no choice but to dance with Lord Aubrey.

  *
r />   “I confess I am rather happy to see you again,” Lord Aubrey said with a facsimile of a charming smile.

  Valerie did not like the way his hand was pressed against her back, the way he tried too hard to gently hold her hand, as though he was not fully capable of being gentle. Her eyes darted between his and the people around them. She saw only a myriad of strangers. What must Damien make of this? She didn’t know what to make of it herself, and it unnerved her that he was so hard to find.

  Her response was a heartbeat too late. “Likewise, my Lord.”

  If he heard the false modesty in her tone, he did not remark on it. “Ms. Caraway, may I ask for your first name?”

  Valerie bit her lip. She saw no reason as to why she should lie about that. “Valerie.”

  “What a pretty name.”

  “Thank you, my Lord.”

  He spun her around twice as the dance dictated. She saw a blur of faces and colors rushing past her.

  “I expected your father to be nearby.”

  “He is,” Valerie said quickly. Perhaps if Lord Aubrey was aware, he would leave her be. “He’s over by the barrels.”

  Lord Aubrey looked over the top of her head as they spun around together. “You mean by the shop.”

  Valerie tried not to blush. “Yes, sir, that’s what I meant.”

  “He doesn’t dance?”

  She briefly lowered her gaze. “He suffered an injury not too long ago. He’s still sore from it.”

  “Oh, my. What on earth happened?”

  “A hunting accident. Someone shot him.”

  Valerie did not like the way Lord Aubrey was looking at her, as though he was trying to peer into her head and root out her secrets.