The Beast

by A R Davis

  Only the pub owner recognized Lord Aubrey instantly. He was quick to show off his good manners and even offered what he deemed “the best seat in the house,” which was a small table directly beside the frosted window. Damien supposed that this was deemed the best seat because the chairs were the least crooked. As he took his seat, the guardsmen stood behind him.

  At least Lord Aubrey was no fool.

  “What can I do you for, sirs?” a barmaid asked as she sidled up beside their table, her hand on her hip.

  “I heard,” Lord Aubrey said, “that you serve a pigeon pie that is absolutely to die for.”

  “You’d be correct in that thinking, sir. All of our pies are excellent.”

  “Wonderful. Why don’t you serve up a piece for myself and my companion. Oh, and we’ll also take two glasses of your finest ale.”

  The barmaid winked at him. “Of course, sir. Be back in a moment.”

  Once she was gone, Damien said, “I hope you know I’m not paying for this.”

  Lord Aubrey chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to be able to, Mr. Caraway. Don’t worry; lunch is on me.”

  Damien was about to make a comment that he could afford it, but he felt that unwise. If he wants to believe himself charitable, let him. It makes no difference to me. “May I ask why you’ve invited me out here?”

  “It’s as I said, sir. I wanted to get to know you.”

  “There’s getting to know me and then there’s having your men posted at my back, looking as though they’re waiting for the order to arrest me.”

  Lord Aubrey knitted his fingers together. “They’re here to protect me.”

  “Are you expecting me to do something dangerous?”

  “No.” He showed his teeth when he smiled. “But it’s a necessary…evil.”

  Damien did not like the way Lord Aubrey’s good eye lingered on him. The boy Lord knew something. Whatever that was, Damien did not want to stay to find out.

  The barmaid returned with their drinks and told them the pies would not be too much longer. It gave Damien enough time to come up with something to say.

  “Listen, I’m not much of a…conversationalist. I doubt you’d be interested in anything I have to say.”

  Lord Aubrey was already immersed in his drink, taking long, slow gulps. He seemed to be ignoring Damien.

  “Certainly someone like you,” Damien continued, “has other potentially less time-wasting plans.”

  Lord Aubrey smacked his lips and set his cup down. “I put all of that aside to make time for you.” He smiled again. “Now, don’t you feel honored?”

  “I certainly feel something.” Damien started to drink, too. He felt Lord Aubrey’s eyes on him, and he could feel the boy Lord’s desire for Damien’s hood to fall.

  “Why do you disguise yourself?” Lord Aubrey asked. “Is it because of your hunting accident?”

  “It’s not a disguise. It’s a…necessary evil.”

  “For what reason?”

  The barmaid returned with two steaming plates of pigeon pie, so Damien was spared having to answer quickly. “Let me know if there is anything else you need.” She left with a wink and a little curtsey.

  “Now doesn’t this look delicious?” Lord Aubrey said. “Have you ever had pigeon pie?”

  “I’ve had pigeon.”

  “Well, this shall be another honorable first for you.”

  “I honestly don’t know what’s honorable about eating pie.”

  Lord Aubrey laughed and ignored the comment. “Back to my question. Why do you wear that…” He made a gesture to encompass Damien’s cloak, not knowing which word to use. I suppose I don’t look very honorable, Damien thought.

  “There was a fire,” Damien said. “I was badly burned. I figure I would do the world a favor by keeping myself hidden.”

  “My goodness, you are a very lucky man to survive a fire and a gunshot. Not many men can walk away from such events.”

  “I didn’t walk away so much as…limped.”

  It took a moment for Lord Aubrey to catch on. He laughed again and his laugh almost sounded genuinely good natured, as if he truly appreciated the joke. Damien forced a few chuckles himself before reaching for his drink.

  After the awkward laughter died down, there was a terse silence. Lord Aubrey rubbed the good half of his chin. “What on earth do you do for a living that you find yourself in these situations?”

  “I sell things.”

  Lord Aubrey stared quizzically at him. “You’re a merchant? What types of ‘things’ do you sell?”

  “Whatever people are willing to buy.”

  “And these people are the type to shoot you and burn you to the ground?”

  “They were both accidents. Not done on purpose.”

  The good half of Lord Aubrey’s face stared at him with utter fascination. The golden mask, however, smiled as though it knew Damien was lying and was waiting for the right moment to trap him.

  “What does your daughter make of all these accidents?” Lord Aubrey asked carefully. He lifted his fork and finally took a piece of his pigeon pie.

  “She worries. But I would like to think she understands to a certain degree.”

  Lord Aubrey chewed as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. “Why isn’t she married?”

  “She isn’t ready.”

  “She isn’t? Or you aren’t?”

  Damien clenched his jaw. He couldn’t think of how to respond. Too much time was passing. Seconds slipped out of his hands.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. I only meant that I can understand how hard it must be. But surely you know that it would be safer if she was away from all of your…accidents.”

  “What are you proposing? That she marry you?”

  “I have considered it.”

  Damien burst out laughing before he realized it wasn’t a joke. The guardsmen behind him tensed as though they were ready to strike him, but he could not help himself. The concept was utterly absurd. Lord Aubrey frowned.

  “Why is that so funny?” Lord Aubrey asked evenly.

  “I don’t know,” Damien said, his laughter faltering. “I guess it’s just the thought that you believe I would let that happen.”

  “My Lord,” one of the guardsmen barked, “please allow me to teach this dog some manners.”

  “At least let me finish my drink first,” Damien said and raised his cup.

  “Enough,” Lord Aubrey ordered. All traces of humor and politeness had been wiped from the good half of his face. Even his permanent smile was menacing in the light. “Mr. Caraway, what reason have I given you to make such a remark?”

  Damien took a long drink of nothing; his cup was already empty.

  “Would you like me to get the barmaid to refill that for you?”

  Damien froze for a moment, and then set his cup aside. “No, thank you. How is your pie? Does it taste as honorable as you thought it would be?”

  “No. In fact, it’s not as good as I was told.”

  “What a shame. To me, it doesn’t taste as humble as I thought it would be. Doesn’t even taste like charity. It simply tastes like grease.”

  “You haven’t even touched it.”

  “You taste one piece of pie, you’ve tasted them all, I assure you.”

  “Does your daughter make good pies?”

  “She’s the best cook I know.”

  Lord Aubrey’s smile returned. “Then I’ll have to convince her to cook for me sometime.”

  Before Damien could respond, Lord Aubrey interjected with a question, “By the way, what is her name?”

  Damien’s eyes quickly darted to the empty cup and the food in front of him. He did not have the excuse of either, so he had to think quickly. Maybe Lord Aubrey had asked her last night and she either told him the truth or she lied. Was Valerie capable of lying? For him, perhaps, but he could not be completely certain. Maybe she told him nothing. That was also a possibility.

  “Well? What is her name? Certainly there is no harm i
n telling me.”

  “Caraway.”

  “That is her surname. What is her first name?”

  “Did she not tell you last night?”

  “She did. I simply don’t remember.”

  “Why do you want to know? You’re never going to see her again.”

  “Why don’t you want me to know her name?”

  Damien swallowed the lingering taste of ale on his tongue. He found no answer suitable enough. He had to take a risk. “Margery,” he said finally.

  He tensed as he waited for Lord Aubrey’s reaction. Was that a small gleam in his good eye or was Damien imagining it? The boy lord kept his face impassive.

  “That is a lovely name,” Lord Aubrey said. “She is a lovely girl.”

  The storm appeared to have passed, but Damien could not relax. “She gets it from her mother.”

  “I had assumed so. Where is her mother?”

  “Dead. She died in the fire.”

  “That’s quite sad. It’s always quite sad when a parent dies. My own parents, for example. The entire town mourned for days.”

  “Hmm.” Damien placed his hand flat on the tabletop and took his chance to depart. “Well, I believe I must return to her – to Margery. I’ve been gone long enough.”

  “Of course. You wouldn’t want her to worry about you. Or have her think you’ve had another accident.”

  “Yes.” Damien cleared his throat. “Thank you for lunch.” He moved to get out of his seat when Lord Aubrey held up his hand.

  “Before you go, I wanted to give you something. For your daughter.” Lord Aubrey pushed himself to his feet.

  The barmaid returned with a slightly worried smile on her face. “My Lord, is there anything –”

  “No, we’re finished.”

  Lord Aubrey dug into his pocket and placed a fistful of coin on the table. “Come. The rest of my men should be waiting for us outside.”

  Was this it? Damien wondered as he reluctantly followed Lord Aubrey. Was this the moment he had been anxiously waiting for? As before, the guardsmen were directly behind him, ready to stop him should he attempt to flee.

  Lord Aubrey, however, did not lead him into any alleyway or dark corner. Instead, he pointed across the road, where two more guardsmen were waiting. “There. You may have one of them.”

  Two horses were tied to a post outside of the shop. They whickered and stamped their hooves on the cobblestone.

  “I couldn’t…” Damien began. “I – it’s too much.”

  “Nonsense,” Lord Aubrey said. “Every merchant needs a horse to help him carry his burden. Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve gone so long without one.”

  “Honestly, I’m not one for horses,” Damien said, his eyes still fixed on the beasts ahead.

  “Come, now. You insulted me by not touching your lunch, and I forgave you in spite of that. You don’t want to insult me a second time.”

  The guards practically pushed him forward. Damien’s feet felt as if they had turned to stone. Every step he took was laborious. If he could sweat, he would be drenched.

  The horses tensed up as they caught wind of his scent. They shifted awkwardly to the side, their ears swatting away unseen flies.

  If I run now, will I be able to get to Valerie in time? Damien thought frantically. The road was choked with enough people that it would slow the guardsmen down, but how many more men did Lord Aubrey have lurking about? And if he did manage to get to Valerie, how much time would they have to escape? Would they be able to do so without bloodshed? There were too many questions. They were drawing ever closer to the horses and Damien could feel their cold fear.

  Damien stopped. He could go no further. The guards were nudging him forward. Lord Aubrey turned back to face him.

  “Are you afraid?” he asked. His hand went to the pistol at his side.

  Chapter 25

  There was no time to form a plan—no time to fully think things through.

  He did the only thing that came naturally to him.

  Damien kicked Lord Aubrey square in the chest, knocking him off to the ground and forcing the air out of his lungs. Then, he quickly grabbed the two guardsmen by the backs of their necks and slammed them together. The clanging sound their helmets made when they crashed sounded to Damien like two swords meeting in a dual.

  Lord Aubrey was scrambling back to his feet and Damien was scrambling to get out of there. The guardsmen by the horses were already coming toward him, rifles in hand. He shoved his way through the crowd of onlookers. Behind him, Lord Aubrey shouted, “Stop him! No, don’t shoot him! Don’t-” And then his shouts were lost as Damien sprinted down the alleyway.

  He had to get to the inn as fast as he could. He and Valerie might have enough time to escape unscathed, unless Lord Aubrey sent the rest of his men there to wait for him.

  I should have killed him, Damien thought.

  When he returned to the main road, he kept as close to large groups as possible without looking suspicious. He often looked over his shoulder to see if the guards were following. In the alleyways, he sprinted as fast as he dared. He took the most haphazard path, hoping that it would get him to Valerie quicker—hoping he would beat Lord Aubrey to the inn. Damien had no doubt that was where the boy lord would go. And if anything happened to Valerie…

  I should have killed him.

  After several breathless minutes, he finally arrived. There were no guardsmen at the door, so he took it as a good sign. He ignored the old woman who cowered behind her desk when he entered. Instead, he ran straight up the stairs and down the hallway to his and Valerie’s room, his heart beating violently all the while.

  If there were men in there, he would have to kill them.

  Valerie would see the monster he was, the monster he was not in front of her. There would be no talk of love. There would be no talk at all.

  Damien paused outside the door, pressing his ear against it. It was hard to hear anything over his panting, over his heartbeat. It felt like there was a heart beating in his skull, too.

  He opened the door.

  The room was empty.

  “Where is she?”

  The old woman took two timid steps back, eyeing the desk as though it would protect her from Damien. Her hands were clutched together at her chest. “I don’t know who you’re speaking of, Mr. Caraway. I already told you that I didn’t want–”

  “I don’t have time for this. Where is Ms. Caraway?”

  “I don’t know! I saw her leave and – I don’t know! Please go away.”

  Damien resisted the urge to slam his fist on the counter top. “I need to know if she left with anyone or if she talked about meeting with someone.”

  “She didn’t say anything, and she didn’t leave with anyone. That’s all I know, I swear!”

  Damien was inclined to believe her. He was, after all, the only one whose business she nosed into, reluctantly or otherwise. There was nothing left to do but try to find her himself. Without another word, he turned his back on the old woman.

  Once he was back on the street, he felt the dizzying sensation of being lost. All around him there were people flooding the streets, and all around him there were multiple pathways and possibilities. Valerie could be anywhere and he had no idea where to start looking or if he would find her in time. It was another one of those moments where he felt the world was too big for him.

  He could not simply keep standing there, so he quickly moved forward. He searched the passing faces for Valerie’s, for Lord Aubrey’s, and for the guardsmen. It was hard to breathe amid all those bodies. It was like he had returned into the raging storm, being tossed about by the sea with nothing familiar in sight. He had never ventured alone in a town before. He no longer knew why he had come here in the first place or how he could have possibly thought this was a good idea.

  He somehow made his way to the marketplace. Damien could not understand how there could still be so many people. How could such a small space contain them all? And they all moved
so quickly, rushing like a current along the road. His ears felt clogged with their noise. It was hard to think clearly; so many thoughts were scattered in his mind like pieces of glass.

  He gravitated toward the book shop, the only place that appeared to be quiet, or as quiet as it could be with a small group of older ladies gossiping near the front. Maybe she was in there. And if she wasn’t, he did not know. He did not know anything.

  “Damien?”

  He whipped around upon hearing his name. Sure enough, there she was. Damien did not know how he could have missed her. She was as clear as the spring day in front of him. Valerie was smiling. Damien froze for a second.

  “I was looking for you,” Valerie said. “I was about to–”

  As glad as he was to see her, he had to cut to the chase. “We need to leave.”

  Her smile disappeared upon these words. “W-Why? What –”

  “There are men after me.” He motioned for her to move in the direction away from the crowd. “We can’t stay here.”

  “Who’s after you?” Valerie trotted alongside him to keep up.

  “These men they – they think I had something to do with whatever Dante got himself into. I tried to explain but they won’t listen and now we need to go.”

  Valerie pulled her arm out of his grasp and came to a halt. “But what about our supplies? We need to go back for them.”

  “There’s no time. We’ll just have to go on without them. Come on.”

  They hadn’t seen Lord Aubrey so far, but that did not mean he had ended his pursuit. Damien had no doubt that the boy Lord would scour the filthiest corners of this town for Damien. He did not know how much time had passed while he looked for Valerie. Certainly by now Lord Aubrey knew Damien was no longer at the inn. He had certainly sent his men off to look for him.

  He and Valerie walked briskly down the road, trying not to attract too much attention.