Beast Lord: (Beauty and the Beast) (Tangled Tales Book 3) (10 page)

Chapter 10

“Stefan, slow down,” said MacKay, as he and Kin watched Stefan gulp down his sixth tankard of ale. “You keep that up and you’ll have to send the alewives out to make more since there won’t be any left for the rest of us.”

Stefan didn’t care. He downed the ale and held his tankard out and with a curt nod of his head, he instructed Trumble to fill it again.

“My lord,” said Trumble, his eyes flicking back and forth between the brothers. “Perhaps Lord MacKay is correct in saying you should pace yourself with the drink.”

“MacKay is not a lord and owns no lands, so don’t call him by that title,” stated Stefan.

Stefan was feeling less anxious or stressed after drinking the ale, and his tongue was becoming loose as well.

“You’re not a lord either,” spat MacKay. “And yet your squire gives you the title.”

“It’s a courtesy title given to him by his brother, Lord Wolf,” the squire pointed out. “Lord Stefan was his steward and Lord Wolf said he earned it.”

“Stop with the idle chatter, Trumble. I am lord of Breckenridge now, so it is a moot point. Now fill the tankard and stop with the babbling.”

The squire sighed and did as told.

“Have you shined my sword and cleaned the mud off my boots yet?” asked Stefan.

“Nay, my lord,” said Trumble with a shake of his head.

“Why not?”

“He’s been too busy playing serving wench, that’s why,” said Kin with a chuckle. “Stefan, really, you are taking matters too far by having your servants conduct their chores hidden away. Just let them do their work out here as is proper.”

“Nay!” He chugged down another half tankard of ale.

“He doesn’t want them looking upon his face,” said Trumble, filling the tankards of Stefan’s brothers. There were about a half dozen soldiers in the great hall too, and the rest were out in the courtyard or up on the battlements. “Although, all the soldiers look at his face so I don’t see the difference.”

“The difference is the soldiers are used to seeing battle wounds, and to them it doesn’t make a difference,” Stefan explained. “The servants tend to gossip, and I’d rather keep them at arm’s length since I’m sure some of them have yet to accept that I am now lord of the castle.” He held out his tankard for more ale.

“My lord, you still have a half tankard of ale left,” said Trumble, peering into the vessel.

“Fill it up,” said Stefan with a nod of his head.

“Arm’s length would be fine with me,” complained his squire. “At least then they’d be able to serve the food, but noooooo . . . I am expected to do that as well as my own chores.”

“I can dismiss you right now and you won’t have to do any of that any more,” warned Stefan.

“Brother, calm down,” said Kin. “You act as if you really are turning into some kind of beast with all your demands.”

“Arrrgh, don’t say that!” He slammed his tankard down on the table and got to his feet. “I won’t have anyone calling me a beast again.”

“Oh course not . . . Lord Beast,” said Kin, swirling the contents of his tankard as he spoke. He and MacKay started laughing.

“That’s it!” Stefan reached over the table and grabbed the front of Kin’s tunic along with his neck, lifting him high into the air with great strength he didn’t even know he possessed. Kin kicked and grabbed for his throat as he gasped for air.

“Put him down, Stefan!” ordered MacKay, pulling his sword from his sheath. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

Stefan looked up at his brother’s face as it started to turn blue and released his grip, dropping Kin to the floor. Looking at his own hand, he realized his knuckles had grown hair. He reached for his face and felt that his scars were protruding more than usual. He held out his hand to Kin, but his brother wouldn’t take it. “I’m sorry, Brother,” he said. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“It’s the curse. It’s Hecuba’s fault.” Trumble ran over and helped Kin to his feet as the man took deep breaths with a wheezing sound.

“Face it, I’m going to have to lock myself away in the tower until I die,” Stefan told them. “The curse is getting worse and I’m going to hurt someone I care about.”

“Going to?” Kin rubbed a hand over his throat. “I think it’s time I take my men and leave.”

“Where are you going?” asked Trumble.

“I’m going to continue the search for Rap, and hopefully bring home our sister, Ella, as well,” Kin told him.

“I’ll come with you,” said MacKay. “I want to find our sisters too.”

“Nay, I need you here, MacKay,” said Stefan feeling groggy from all the ale. “I need you to instruct the mercenaries since I’m going to be unable to do it. We need defenses in case the attackers return to the castle.”

“What about the lord of the castle?” asked Trumble. “I mean – Bonnibel’s father. It is possible he might be back any day.”

“Then I’ll deal with that when the time comes.” Stefan rubbed his hand over his face and realized the beard and mustache had become even more wiry, and much longer. Then his hand went to his head, but that hair hadn’t grown at all.

“Mayhap you should go lie down,” MacKay told him. “You don’t – look so well.”

“I don’t feel so well, either,” he said, still upset from what happened earlier with Bonnibel. Her scent of wildflowers still clung to his hand and the taste of her sweet lips coated his mouth. He’d only meant to try to make her fall in love with him to break his curse, but in the process he felt something odd in his chest. It was a feeling he’d never felt before.

“I’m sorry I disturbed you and Bonnibel earlier,” said his squire.

“Disturbed them?” Kin continued to rub his throat and looked up in question. “What were they doing?”

“They were – kissing I believe.”

Stefan’s brothers started laughing, and Stefan felt as if he wanted to strangle his squire for telling them that, and it took all his control not to.

“You were kissing a girl?” asked MacKay in awe.

“A beautiful girl,” added Kin. “How did that happen?”

“I was . . . I was trying to make her fall in love with me so my curse could be broken. The witch told me if I loved a woman and she loved me in return I wouldn’t be the beast any longer. However, the girl can’t know what will break the curse or it won’t happen. But if it doesn’t happen before all the petals fall from the rose – then I will be consumed by the beast.”

“Consumed? What does that mean?” asked Kin.

“I don’t quite know,” he admitted. “It either means I’ll turn into a beast forever, or I’ll die a very un-noble death as a creature instead of a man.”

“Then you’d better get Lady Bonnibel to fall in love with you fast,” said Trumble.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” said Stefan with a sigh. “She ran from the room like she was frightened out of her mind. She doesn’t want me – and I can’t say I blame her.”

“How many petals are left on the rose?” asked MacKay.

“Not nearly enough, I’m sure.” Stefan started across the hall. “But I’m going to go up to the east tower now and find out how much longer I have to live.”

Chapter 11

Bonnibel was in her glory looking at all the books. She loved books, and this secret room was filled with them. She put down the candle and picked up a book, carefully opening the leather-bound pages. Sitting down in a rocking chair, she placed the book on her lap.

Most of the books looked to be chronicles scribed by monks and illuminated in beautiful colors of orange, red, green and blue. There were letters gilded in gold on the pages, and intricate designs and animals that wound up and down the page.

She got up and replaced the book. Then, one after another she looked through them. Some of them were records of things that happened at Breckenridge Castle, and others were tallies and ledgers keeping count of food and goods through the years.

She wondered who scribed all these books, as scribing was a timely process and also very expensive. Usually only churches or monasteries had as many books as this, but her father had them hidden away and after all these years she never knew it. She wondered if her mother had known. But then again, as far as she could remember, her mother and father were never together and barely ever talked. Even when Bonnibel’s mother passed away her father never talked about it afterwards. And right afterwards, her father sent her and her sisters away to be fostered.

She spied another interesting looking book and picked it up. It was a Book of Hours that was written in Latin and contained prayers and psalms and even full-page illuminated pictures in bright colors.

She was curious and wanted more than anything to read it. She knew Latin since the nobles were skilled, having learned several languages as part of their fostering.

She had just sat back down in the chair when she heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of the tower door. She flipped the book closed and blew out the candle, then ran to the door of the secret room. Closing it up, she pushed the cupboard back into place. The latch on the tower room door moved and her heart beat furiously as she ran to the other secret door and had just slipped through the passageway when someone entered the room.

Stefan walked into the tower room, seeing the back of Bonnibel’s gold dress as she disappeared . . . through a secret door in the wall. He ran into the room but by the time he got to the secret door it was closed. He felt the wall, using his fingers to look for a latch, but found none. Then in aggravation, he pounded his fist against the wall . . . and the door opened.

He peered into the darkness, smelling musty damp earth. “So this is how she got out of her room and the servants got in,” he said aloud. He felt like a fool for not even suspecting this earlier. After all, how else had the servants kept hidden while they were doing their chores? Every castle had secret passageways somewhere, and he was stupid not to suspect it.

He thought about going after her, then decided against it. He closed up the passageway door and decided he would keep this his secret as well. Then he opened it again and forced his big body through the small opening, looking at the walls outside the tower room. There were several peepholes in the walls. In the very narrow passageway of the thick walls, there was a stone staircase curving and leading down to the main keep of the castle.

“Interesting,” he said aloud, going back into the room and closing the door. If there were peepholes here then there were probably peepholes in every room in the castle. And for all he knew, Bonnibel could have been spying on him.

He looked back to the rose on the table. Another petal had fallen off and withered and there wasn’t that many left. He looked at the withered petal sitting atop the book that he’d taken from Bonnibel. It was a bad omen that the rose was losing petals and withering atop a book of romance. Or was it a sign of hope? He wished he knew.

* * *

Bonnibel ran through the dark passageway that twisted and turned in all directions. Before long she knew she was lost. She didn’t have a candle with her, nor could she see where she was going. She should have brought the candle with her from the book room, but when Stefan entered and surprised her, her only thought was to get away from him before he started kissing her again.

Just the thought of kissing him made her remember the way she felt. It was nothing like anything she’d ever felt before. With her eyes closed, she could pretend that he wasn’t the beast who claimed her father’s castle. But then again, with her eyes opened she wasn’t sure he was someone she really wanted to know. Conflict stirred within her.

She made her way down the dark corridor, sure she’d heard a sound behind her and kept running faster. Looking over her shoulder, she kept trying to move in order to keep away from the ghost she’d seen earlier in her room. The footsteps were getting closer and closer, and her heart beat faster and faster. She held up the hem of her gown and moved quickly, looking over her shoulder, and when she turned back she screamed as she crashed into someone and they both fell to the ground.

“My lady, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“Sibeal? Is that you?”

“Aye, it is.”

She reached out and threw her arms around the girl and hugged her, getting a surprised gasp from the servant.

“You’re not angry I bumped into you?” Sibeal started to collect the food and platter that she’d dropped.

“Nay, I’m happy to see you. Can you show me how to get back to my room? I don’t remember these tunnels as well as I thought I did.”

“I could, my lady, but we are right by the kitchen. Would you like to exit that way instead?”

She looked over her shoulder once more, sure she saw movement from the corner of her eye. It was either the man in the cape or a rat. Right now she didn’t want to see either.

“Let’s go through the kitchen,” she said getting up and brushing off her gown.

They headed down the passageway, making one turn, and entered the kitchen through a small door in the attached larder. It was a door she knew well since when she was a child she always used it to sneak into the larder at night and find a bite to eat after everyone had gone to bed. She stepped out into the light with Sibeal at her side. All the servants were busy preparing the meal for the soldiers, but stopped when they saw her. They bowed or curtsied to acknowledge her.

“My lady, I beg your pardon, but why are you in the kitchen?” asked an older, plump woman that she vaguely remembered from childhood.

“You are the head cook – Flora, is it?” asked Bonnibel.

“Aye, Lady Bonnibel,” said the woman with a curtsey, lowering her head. “I am surprised you remember me since you haven’t seen me since you were a child.”

“Go on with your work,” she said to the kitchen servants, not wanting them to stop because of her. “Flora, do you know what happened to my father?”

“I – I’m not sure,” said the woman, picking up a pestle and mortar and grinding some herbs. “It all happened so fast.”

“Where did they take him? And who were the attackers?”

“The attackers wore no crests, but I have eyes, mind you. I see people who come and go and I don’t like what I saw.”

“What do you mean? Did you recognize them?”

“Their leader looked familiar, my lady.”

“Well, tell me, Flora. Who was he?”

“If I’m not mistaken, the man is someone your father knows and has met with before.”

“A friend or possibly a colleague? Nay, you must be mistaken.”

Flora looked down to her work and just bit her lip. “Mayhap I am, my lady. Please forgive me for being so bold with my assumption.”

“Mayhap the ghost took him,” piped in Sibeal.

“The ghost?” Bonnibel looked up sharply, thinking of what she’d seen in the passageways. “You don’t really believe in ghosts, do you?”

“It’s true,” said Sibeal, unloading things off the tray and onto the wooden butcher-block table. “The ghost of Breckenridge has caused much mischief through the years. And I’ve encountered him several times in the passageways, but he seems to be harmless.”

“What does he look like?” asked Bonnibel in thought, picking up a grape from a fruit platter on the table and popping it into her mouth.

“No one’s ever seen his face,” said Sibeal. “We don’t know.”

“I’ve seen him before as well,” said Flora, grinding with more vigor.

“Tell us about him,” said Bonnibel, but Flora seemed to be hiding something, or just didn’t want to talk.

“I – I don’t really know. I just know he wears a long black hooded cloak like death.”

“Death?” Bonnibel looked at her from the corner of her eye. “How do you know what death looks like?”

“Because I saw Death the day your mother died. He was standing over her body.”

“You did?” Bonnibel was reaching for another grape but stopped in mid-motion. “Do you mean he was at her bedside when she died?”

Flora bit her lip and ground the herbs faster. Her face became red and it was obvious something was bothering her.

“Flora, you can tell me anything. Now please – if it’s about my dear mother, I need to know.”

“Tell her,” said Sibeal in a whisper.

“Oh, all right, but bid the devil I’d better not hang by the neck for telling your father’s secret.”

“Secret? What secret?”

Flora wiped her hands in a cloth and nodded with her head for Sibeal and Bonnibel to join her out of earshot of the other servants. “Your mother didn’t die in bed, Bonnibel. She died in the passageways.”

A shiver went up Bonnibel’s spine. So this is why she didn’t like being in the passageways and felt so scared in there. “Where exactly?” She knew what the woman was going to say before she even said it.

“It was right there at the foot of the stairs leading from the east tower.”

Bonnibel closed her eyes, feeling a pain go through her heart. “Please, continue, Flora.”

“I was using the passageway since I was late getting to the kitchen that morning because I had overslept. That’s when I heard voices and an odd noise and followed them and they led me to . . . your mother prone on the floor. Standing over her was a man in a black hooded robe – as well as your father.”

“My father? Nay, that can’t be. My father told me mother died peacefully in her sleep.”

“Did you ever see her dead body?” asked Flora.

“Nay. Father sent me and my sisters away even before the funeral.”

“That’s because there wasn’t a funeral.”

“I don’t understand. Why not?”

“Bonnibel, I saw your poor mother’s face and body. She didn’t look right. She looked - yellow.”

“She was dressed in a yellow gown?”

“Nay – she just looked – odd. I don’t understand it, and it frightened me and I ran without looking back.”

“Did you ever ask my father about it?”

“Nay,” interrupted Sibeal. “My mother could have lost her life if your father found out she knew his secret.”

“What secret?” asked Bonnibel. “I’m confused. You don’t think my father killed my mother, do you?”

“I didn’t say that nor do I pretend to know what happened,” said Flora, raising her hands in the air. “All I know is that there have been odd things happening at Breckenridge for years now, and that’s all I know. Now please – don’t say a word of this to anyone.”

“I won’t,” said Bonnibel with a nod of her head. “Thank you for trusting me, Flora.”

Something was amiss at Breckenridge and Bonnibel would find out the mystery of her mother’s death, and it would be the first thing she asked her father if she ever saw him again.