Depravity: A Beauty and the Beast Novel (A Beastly Tale Book 1) (5 page)

Turning to flee, I crashed into something solid.

“Just the person we wanted to see,” Tennen murmured, clamping his hands down on my upper arms.  “I thought you might run when the baker came calling.”

I lifted my knee to hit his groin, but my skirts hampered the move, and I only grazed him.  Still, he bent slightly, bringing his head close to mine.  I jerked forward, hitting his head with my own.  His hands left my arms, and I tried to run. However, the knock I’d given myself against his hard head turned me around, and I stumbled straight into Splane’s waiting arms.  After witnessing his brother’s abuse, he quickly spun me so I faced away from him.

“Bitch!” panted Tennen, holding his nose with one hand while reaching for the vines with the other.  “I hope the beast rips you open.”

His sudden punch to my stomach caught me off guard.  I barely noticed Splane’s abandonment of his hold as the need to draw in a breath occupied me.  Tennen roughly grabbed my wrists, pulled them behind my back, and tied them as I remained bent over in pain.  Together the brothers hauled me onto the cart.  I caught my breath enough to struggle, but it did no good.  They lifted me over their heads and struggled to thread the pole through my bound arms.

“Idiots,” I said when they finally stepped back, sweating and red-faced from their efforts.  “You should have tied my wrists together after you had me in front of the pole.”

They ignored me and jumped from the wagon.  I listened to them grunt as they began to push the cart through the gates.  Not again, I thought, eyeing the beast’s domain.

Desperate, I leaned forward so my wrists pulled against the wood, then tried to place a foot on the pole, hoping to boost myself up and perhaps climb to the top.  My heel slipped on my skirts.

“I hope the beast catches you!” I screamed at them, no longer caring if he heard the noise we were making.  Oh, I still feared him but preferred he catch all of us and not just me.  Perhaps I would then have a chance.

They laughed as the cart stopped moving.  Facing the estate, I saw nothing but overgrown vegetation and trees.  I twisted, trying to see Tennen and Splane.  Instead, I heard the creak of the gate as they pulled it closed.

“We’re not afraid of that thing,” Tennen said, a distance behind me.

“Bold words for little men standing outside the gate,” I said.  “Come inside and see if you fare so well.  Do your own dirty work instead of waiting for someone else to do it for you!”

“Someone?  You mean something.  This is the third time for you, isn’t it, Benella?  You won’t bother us again.”

Tennen spoke the truth, and I struggled against the thin vines binding my wrists.  The beast would not forgive a third trespass.  I wriggled and writhed and panted as I fought against my binding.  Pain bit into my wrists with each frantic tug and twist, and my fingers grew slick.  My hair came loose from its long braid and tangled in front of my face, obscuring my vision.

Tennen’s laughter taunted me and my pathetic struggles until the sound abruptly stopped.  I stilled and tried blowing the hair from my eyes.  For a fraction of a moment, I caught a glimpse of black eyes and brown fur before my hair once again blocked my view.  I froze.  The beast.  He was here, mere feet away.

The dark trees around us had gone eerily quiet as if holding their breath.  The silence allowed the low rumble of the beast’s growl to echo, surrounding me with his menace.

A scrape against the ground and a faint creak of the wood was all the warning I had before the beast pushed the cart and sent it flying to crash upon the gate.  The bone-jarring stop rattled my teeth as my head smacked back against the pole.  The momentum sent me forward again, a sudden jerk stopped by my tied wrists.  The vines bit deep, and I grunted in pain.

Behind me, Splane squealed like a girl a moment before I heard their hurried retreat.  I laughed groggily as my ears rang and the world spun from the thump to my head.

“Two little girls, that’s what they are.  They should be wearing a dress,” I mumbled, wincing at the pain at the base of my skull.

“Why have you returned?” asked an angry voice in a deep scraping growl.

He could speak?  With a curtain of hair in the way and my vision not cooperating, I closed my eyes in defeat.

“That should be apparent, I’d think.  To die.”

“Why do you wish for death so badly?” the voice asked.  Some of the anger had faded from it and was replaced by curiosity.

“Does it look to you like I came here by choice?”  A harsh laugh escaped me.  “It’s not my wish, but theirs, that I die.”

The longer I stood there, the more my injuries started calling attention to themselves.  My shoulders ached from their position and the recent collision with the gate.  My wrist oozed blood and my stomach twisted with nausea.  His silence along with everything else made my next words dangerously impudent.

“Recent events having left me in a poor mood, I’d rather not waste any more time on idle conversation.  I hurt everywhere and think I may vomit soon so, please, just be done with it.”

The vines around my wrists loosened, and I fell forward onto something hard, furry, and warm.  Draped over the beast, I realized, a moment before we were moving.

Sadly, I vomited before fainting.

*    *    *    *

“...should I?”

The shrill voice cut through the fog clouding my mind, and I blinked my eyes open to stare at the rough shingled roof blurring above me.  A growl filled the air, and my stomach lurched, not from the growl, but from the sour taste lingering in my mouth.  I gagged.

“Leave us,” the feminine voice commanded.

A door slammed, and I turned on my side to dry heave.  A gentle hand ran over my hair, lingering on the spot at the back of my head where I’d smacked against the pole.

“There’s the problem.  Let’s sit you up.”

She leveraged a thin, wiry arm behind my shoulders and helped me sit.  Slowly, my vision cleared and an aged, haggard face filled the space before me.  White hair twisted tightly behind her head and pulled the skin of her face, smoothing a few of the deeper creases.  Her brilliant green eyes glinted at me with cold humor.

“Got in the way of something, I’d say,” she murmured, leaning in close, her gaze shifting back and forth to study mine.  “Best to stay awake tonight.  You’ll feel sick, which is normal.  Drink lightly. Don’t eat until your stomach stops twisting.”

Without mercy, she tugged me to my feet.  The ground tilted and heaved, and I spread my stance wide to keep from falling.

“Smart girl,” she said with a laugh.  “Too bad he brought you to me.  You can’t stay here.  Out you go.” She nudged me toward the door.

The stomach I’d thought empty heaved again, and I left a gift on her floor before I managed to clear the threshold.  Her insulting laughter rang out behind me before the door closed and silence enveloped me.

Reaching out, I braced myself on the door.  Night had claimed the sky and the half-moon weakly highlighted the area, not that it did me any good.  The pain in my head clouded my vision.  How would I manage a walk home, especially when I didn’t know where I was?  I recalled the beast’s growl and knew I had to be somewhere within the estate.  South, then, was the way to go.  I lifted my head to the moon, trying to focus enough to get my bearings.

I took a lurching step away from the door, my skirt swishing through the grass.  Within seven steps, I heaved again, and my eyes watered.  The muscles in my stomach protested, and I wished for a cool drink to rinse my mouth.  Instead, I received a growl.

“Vomit on me again, and you will suffer,” he said before he swung me over his shoulder.  The grass flew past us, and I clenched my teeth as blood rushed to my head and pulsed in my ears.  My vision clouded, and I knew I’d faint again and wondered if that counted as sleeping.  The beast sensed something, though, because he stopped his run, and I found myself standing before him in the shadowy light beneath a tree.

“What did she say?” he demanded.

When the world tilted, I didn’t try widening my stance.  Instead, I let my weak knees fold and sat heavily on the ground.

“Don’t sleep or eat until my stomach stops twisting.  Drink lightly and get out.” I partially groaned as I struggled to my knees and heaved again, aggravating my stomach muscles and the lump on the back of my head.  I spit weakly and let my head hang.

“Running upside down made it worse,” I said, swiping at my lips.

“You blame this on me?” His low growl increased in volume and clicked with menace as he crept close to me.

“Well, it was your fault that I hit the back of my head against the pole.  Before that, only my wrists bled.”

He roared in response, which brought back the ringing in my ears.  I paid his anger little mind as I sought refuge from my pain in the cool grass and closed my eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to sleep.”

“The witch said not to.”

“And you just roared at me.  So what?  If I die, I die.  I’m tired of being bullied by you and the idiots in the village.  If I live, so be it.  At least, I’ll have had a few moments of peace.”

His feet padded softly, rustling the grass and scraping the dirt until he stopped behind me.  Lying on my side with my face cushioned by my arm, I’d saved the back of my head from touching the ground, but also left it open to the beast’s inspection.  He huffed a great breath, blowing my hair over my face.  Then he began to lick the lump he’d made.

I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped me as the ache eased and the twisting in my stomach faded.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He grunted and kept licking for several more minutes.  Without the nausea, it lulled me to sleep.

“CAW!”

I bolted upright at the loud cry in my ear.  My stomach muscles protested at their overuse, and I suffered a brief period of disorientation.  I recalled the night before and studied my surroundings.  The shaded glade only sported a few tufts of low growing grass on the outskirts.  A soft patch grew in the center where the sun struck at midday, the very patch on which I’d previously reclined until the crow, hopping on the ground a few feet away, had rudely woken me.

The crow cawed at me again, but I ignored it as I struggled to my feet.  The aches of the night before lingered in my shoulders and stomach but remained absent elsewhere, drawing my attention to the smooth and unblemished skin of each wrist.  The memory rose of how the beast had eased the ache in my head.  I glanced around the glade but felt certain only the crow and I entertained it now.

Given the dangerously unpredictable nature of the beast, I thought it best to keep my company to myself, and I began to carefully pick my way through the trees, heading toward the general area of the gate.  As soon as I started walking, the crow took flight only to land on a branch ahead of me.  I ignored the bird for the most part since it kept quiet when it flew but listened closely to the surrounding wood as I made slow progress through the estate lands.

It didn’t surprise me when I spotted the gate ahead and it grated open on its own, the estate obviously ready to be rid of me.  Of the beast, there was no sign.  Muddied and disheveled, I made my way home in dawn’s first light.

*    *    *    *

A familiar gasp greeted me when I opened the kitchen door.  Behind me, a furious flutter of wings sounded, prompting me to ignore Bryn’s incredulous stare and quickly close the door before the annoying crow decided to let itself in.  It cawed at me through the wood.

“Benella,” Bryn finally managed to cry.  “Father’s been so worried.”  She stood by the stove with an apron wrapped around her dress.  Eggs fried in a pan, and a small crock of fresh goat’s milk already rested on the table, waiting for Father.

The study door opened, and Father hurried out fully dressed for the day, his expression putting truth to Bryn’s statement.  His eyes swept me and relief erased the worry.

“When I mentioned a walk, I didn’t think you’d stay out all night, child,” he said mildly, seeing me whole and healthy.

“An unplanned event to be sure,” I said.  “I ran into a bit of dirt and will need another bath.”

Bryn gave a small, exasperated huff.

“I can’t haul water for you again, Benella.  I’m supposed to go with Tennen to—”

“Bryn,” Father said softly.  “I’m sure it wouldn’t over trouble you to help with two small buckets, just enough to rinse the dirt from your sister’s hair.”  As he spoke, he circled me and lifted the hair on the back of my head.

“Surely this unplanned event had a few interesting turns,” he murmured for my ears only.

I gave the barest of nods, and he stepped back from me.  I appreciated that he didn’t question me further.

“At least the dress survived unscathed,” he said.

Blye harrumphed from the doorway of our room.  She’d joined us so quietly I hadn’t noticed her.

“Its hem is stained with mud.  I wouldn’t call that unscathed.”

“Better than ripped,” Father said in a tone that didn’t allow for argument.  “Benella, I would speak with you before I leave about an errand I need you to run.  Would you mind stepping into my study before you wash?”

“Of course, Father,” I said, more than willing to escape my sisters’ pique.

He surprised me by not asking of my night once he closed the door behind us.

“I apologize for asking this of you, but I need a message delivered to the Head in Water-On-The-Bridge as soon as possible.”

The request disheartened me.  The walk would take me most of the day there and back, and sleeping on the ground the prior night had done little to leave me feeling rested.  But, I reasoned with myself, a whole day with no other obligations might be nice. I rolled my shoulders, feeling the ache in the joints, and tested my stomach.  Nothing I couldn’t handle.  So, I nodded my agreement.  Outside the window, a crow squawked.

“Fetch your mended shirt from Blye.  I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in it,” he said.  “See me when you’re ready to leave.”

I nodded and quietly crept to my room.  After carefully closing the door, I looked around the room.  My shirt lay neatly on the thin comforter of my narrow bed.  Something about it looked odd, but I couldn’t determine what when I lifted it up.  As usual, Blye’s stitches ran small and straight, making it impossible to see where she’d made any change.  I slipped out of the dress and pulled on my trousers then bindings.

Outside, I heard a flutter of wings; and as I looked up at the partially shuttered window, the crow used his beak to make room for himself on the ledge.  Blye opened the door behind me before I could shoo the crow away.

“Did you try it on?” she asked impatiently.

I turned away from the voyeuristic crow and shrugged my arms into the shirt.  It fit, but it pulled snugly from shoulder to shoulder across the back.  Frowning, I closed the front and began to button it up, seeing the problem immediately.  The shirt buttons strained to close the gap between the front two panels and created small spaces where anyone could see my bindings or stomach for that matter.

Disappointment clearly on my face, I looked up at her.  Her expression remained impassive.

“Well, I tried.  The cloth I had didn’t match, and you would have looked like a patchwork.  Perhaps Father can save for a new one.  Until then, you do have the dress.”

I stared after her as she glided from the room and closed the door.  The dress?  In a disbelieving trance, I walked across the room to one of the compact chests sitting on the floor at the foot of the larger bed that Blye and Bryn shared.  There was one chest for each of my sisters, gifts from our mother, who’d died before giving one to me.  She’d meant them as a place for us to store the things we would collect for our own homes.

Carefully lifting the lid of Blye’s chest, I gazed at the yards of folded fabrics stacked neatly on top of each other and the various lengths of ribbon lying on top of them.  Threads of several colors twined around a thin spindle.  Under the spindle, a simple bolt of roughly woven cream cotton material rested all but forgotten beside the prettily colored fine weaves.  I would have liked to think Blye had overlooked the material; but wrapped in a bit of coarse thread, the section on my shirt she’d taken away sat beside it.  She was right. The colors didn’t quite match, but she had enough of the other material to make me a whole new shirt if she chose to.  It hurt knowing she couldn’t spare anything for me when I’d given so much to her.

A clicking at the window distracted me; and I let the lid close softly, leaving the contents undisturbed.  The crow opened and closed its beak several times without making any other sound and then took off from the sill, leaving me in peace.

Shaking out the dress and brushing as much of the dirt from it as I could, I spread it on the bed and went to the kitchen to wash up.  Two kettles rested on the stove in the vacant kitchen.  I fetched a cloth and tested the water.  Still cool.  Frowning, I checked the stove.  Bryn hadn’t even added wood to it to heat the water.  Sighing, I set to washing in the cold water, wiping my skin, but foregoing rinsing my hair.  Instead, after I finished and changed back into the dress, I ran a brush through it then braided it again.

Tossing the water into the garden out back, I noticed the crow watching from the top of our tiny outbuilding that housed the goat and a few garden tools.  It watched me closely, its quiet more disturbing than its previous cawing.  I thoughtfully narrowed my eyes at it before going inside.

Finally ready, I knocked on Father’s study door.  He stood before the window, staring out at nothing when I entered, but quickly turned to hand me a sealed letter.

“Try to be home before dark and save me from another night’s worry, Bini,” he said softly, kissing my cheek.

I nodded and moved aside to let him pass. He’d obviously been waiting for me so he could leave for the school and ring the bell to call his pupils.

*    *    *    *

The crow followed me as I walked away from the cottage, heading northwest toward the road.  I wanted to angle north enough to miss any possibility of running into Tennen or Splane.  I imagined by now, Tennen knew I’d returned home, thanks to Bryn, and wondered at his reaction.

Lost in thought, I continued my journey until the crow flew at me from the left, making a racket and flapping in my face.  Raising my arms for protection, I turned away, instinctively taking several large steps to put distance between us.  So far, the crow had just followed me; the violence of its sudden attack left me with a racing heart and confused.  I had no food with me to give it cause to chase me, even though the journey promised to be long and tiring.

It retreated, and I tentatively lowered my arms to look for it.  It had perched on a branch not far to my left.  It cocked its head, studying me intensely.  Warily, I gave it wide berth and tried striking out northwest again.  Every time I veered even the slightest bit in a westerly direction, it flew at me.

Scowling, I headed north to the estate.  It followed me closely, herding me to the gate, which swung open at my approach.  I stopped to look at the crow.

“I truly feel I’ve tempted fate enough.  I don’t suppose you’d leave me in peace if I went no further.”

It cawed angrily, and I sighed, eyeing its sharp beak.  Hoping the beast’s benevolent mood remained intact in the light of day, I stepped through the gate.  As soon as it slammed closed behind me, the crow flew off north toward the center of the estate.  Nervously, I lingered by the gate, unwilling to risk increasing the beast’s ire by going any further.

After several long minutes the small, unidentifiable noises made by the wildlife in the surrounding area quieted.  The typically blurred air grew murkier, making it hard to see more than a few feet beyond where I stood.  A caw sounded nearby, the sharp ring of it dampened by the mist.

“You returned.” The beast’s disembodied growl floated to me.

Standing my ground, I slowly scanned the darkest areas in front of me.

“Not by choice.  I think your crow would have eagerly pecked out my eyes had I not abided by its direction.”

Silence answered me.  Had I misunderstood?  Was the crow not his messenger?  My stomach churned, and my gaze darted from one shadowy object to the next as I tried to discern which might be the beast.  After a few moments of straining to see or hear any indication I wasn’t alone, I bravely spoke.

“I’m very willing to leave you to your peace if you would kindly convince the gate to open.”

“Before you leave, you may ask of me one thing you need that I can find within the walls of my estate,” he said with a low rumble.

My mouth popped open.  Generosity from the beast was the last thing I’d expected.

“I...thank you for your offer,” I said slowly, “but I’ve taken so much from the estate already.”

“You scorn my offer?”

The roar of his rage momentarily deafened me and startled nearby birds from their roosts.  Rubbing my ears, I hastily tried to assure him.

“Never scorn.  To the east, a portion of your wall has crumbled and often the area beyond offers a small harvest of edible roots no matter what time of year.  Many times it’s helped feed me.  And just the other day, a spider threw its fine webbing at me, strong enough to use as thread.  To my shame, I’ve never scorned the bounty of your estate.  I’ve repeatedly taken without asking until finally it stopped offering.  So you see, I can’t possibly accept more.”

An annoyed grunt sounded to my right, but when I turned in that direction, I saw nothing.

“Regardless, ask of me one thing you need.  Only then will the gate open.”

I frowned at his stubborn insistence.  Why did I need to ask for something?  Perhaps it was a trick, and if I asked for the wrong thing I’d be trapped in the estate forever.  He’d said something in the estate that I needed.  Need must be the key.  If Blye stood before him, she would say she needed something silly like thread or material, but I knew neither could be a need.

“I can think of nothing I need.  We always have enough food to keep from starving and a roof to keep us warm and dry.”

“I don’t care about your family,” he said sharply.  “Whatever you choose must be for you and you alone.  You waste my time.  This is no riddle to debate and stew. Just choose,” he bellowed, causing me to jump.

Thoughtfully quiet, I nibbled at my lip.  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask for a man’s shirt.  I even opened my mouth and made a small noise before snapping it shut as a surprising thought stopped me.  I could hear his growing agitation in the increased volume of his growl.

“Refuge,” I whispered.

The growling stopped.

“What do you mean?”

“You want me to ask for one thing I need from within the estate.  I’m asking for refuge when I need it.”

Behind me, the gate creaked open.  I spun and raced for the breach, not waiting for his answer.  The crow’s cackling caw followed me through the trees until I reached the point where the mists faded.