Beauty (14 page)

‘You’ve met the Beast then,’ Rumplestiltskin said and the prince shuddered again.

‘We need to put everything back as it was,’ he said quietly. ‘We need to put them all back to sleep.’

‘Forget about that,’ the huntsman said. ‘That’s not our business. We need to escape. Cut through the forest as we did before and return to your father.’

‘I can’t forget it. You didn’t see. You didn’t see what she did to that serving girl.’ The prince frowned slightly and his pale face turned to the huntsman. ‘I’ll never be able to forget. Not while she’s awake.’ He paused in his mutterings. ‘You
knew
her. That’s what he said. He brought her because she’d been talking to you. And then she . . . and then she . . .’

‘Nell?’ the huntsman’s blood cooled. ‘What did she do to Nell?’

The prince’s mouth opened as he worked to force out some words, and then he simply burst into tears.

‘Blood,’ Rumplestiltskin said, quietly. ‘She’d have taken her blood. The Beast has a blood lust and the orphaned servants feed it. When the lust is satisfied, the Beast often leaves. It’s a price the kingdom must pay.’

‘Beauty killed her?’ The huntsman was stunned. Even after hearing Rumplestiltskin’s tale he found it hard to equate the pretty, kind queen with cruelty. And Nell? She killed Nell?

‘She danced in her blood,’ the prince moaned. ‘She made me . . . she made me drink it with her. I couldn’t stop her. I couldn’t . . .’ He looked from one man to the other. ‘I was too scared. Can’t you see? Can’t you understand? I couldn’t do anything.’ He stared into space. ‘She was so beautiful when she was sleeping. How could we have known?’

The horror of his words hung in the air.

‘And you want to let her live?’ the huntsman rounded on Rumplestiltskin as he thought of poor Nell. The feel of her soft skin and the sound of her easy warm laugh were fresh to him. She had been a sweet girl who’d done nothing wrong and he loathed himself for falling prey to his nature and taking his pleasure with her – especially when he had inadvertently drawn her towards her death. His anger raged. ‘Then you let her live. But give me the spindle. You go with the others and cut through the forest. I’ll stay behind and curse her again.’ He gritted his teeth knowing what he was subjecting himself to. A hundred long years alone. But if it wasn’t for him Nell would still be alive. If they hadn’t woken Beauty then she would have been sleeping peacefully, her whole life waiting for her when the Beast was dead. He would do it. He had to do it.

‘No,’ Rumplestiltskin said. ‘Why should I? No one cares that my daughter spent her life trapped in that witch’s tower. No one cares that I will never look on her face again. So what do I care of the fate of the city?’

‘What if you could have another child?’ the prince blurted out. There was a mania in his eyes and the huntsman knew that if Beauty wasn’t returned to her long dying sleep then the prince would never feel free of her. His terror would drive him mad; if it hadn’t a little already. The young man had endured far more adventure than he’d bargained for.

‘My wife is dead,’ Rumplestiltskin spat bitterly. ‘I will not take another.’

‘I will give you my child. My first born.’ He grabbed the man’s arm, his whole body trembling.

‘What?’ The huntsman turned, his anger over Nell’s death sideswiped by shock. ‘You can’t make a deal like that!’

‘I can.’ The prince didn’t take his eyes from Rumplestiltskin. ‘My first child. I promise you. You shall have the first child from my marriage bed to raise as your own.’

‘A child?’ Rumplestiltskin sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the fireplace. ‘A child to raise as my own. Away from court. Away from the games of others. A child to love and never leave.’

‘Yes!’ the prince nodded, enthusiastically. ‘Yes! You have my word.’

‘Don’t do this,’ the huntsman growled. ‘This kind of deal is worse than a witch’s curse.’

‘I have your word?’ Rumplestiltskin reached out his hand to the fevered prince.

‘You do.’

The two men shook and the deal was done. Watching them, aghast, the huntsman wondered how much madness could be held in one kingdom. Suddenly a hundred years alone did not seem too terrible a fate to be waiting for him.

‘Let’s go,’ the prince said. ‘The huntsman can come back with the spindle while we’re cutting through the forest. We could be gone by morning.’

‘No,’ the huntsman gritted his teeth and tried his best to ignore the prince’s indifference to his sacrifice of a hundred years. ‘The castle will be waking soon and there won’t be enough time. If you’re not here then the first minister will know we’re escaping and the forest wall will have soldiers along every inch. You have to stay here and act normally. Plan the wedding. Lull them into thinking all is well. Tell them you want another party to celebrate your bride. Make sure all the ministers – and Beauty – drink heavily. Tell her she must sleep well before the wedding and make sure she’s in bed by midnight. We will meet you back here and you will leave. I’ll give you four hours from then. If you haven’t cut through the forest wall, then you will be trapped in slumber with the rest of the city until she is dead.’

‘But I can’t!’ The prince looked horrified. ‘How can I pretend everything is fine? With her? How? Surely the ministers will be suspicious?’

‘The mind is capable of many things,’ Rumplestiltskin said, ‘when exposed to true horror. It will protect itself. You should put the day’s events down to a dream. A nightmare. They will think you have chosen to forget.’

‘I don’t know—’

‘You have to,’ the huntsman snapped. He was tired of the prince’s weakness. He was tired of these royals who wrecked ordinary people’s lives. ‘It’s the only way.’

Finally, the prince nodded and straightened up. ‘I’ll do it.’

He made it sound like a noble sacrifice in the way that only a prince could when surrounded by the sacrifices of others on his behalf.

‘Good,’ the huntsman said, and nodded to Rumplestiltskin. ‘Let’s go.’

‘I will hold you to your promise, young prince,’ the old man said. ‘First, I will go to the witch, and then I will come to you. Do not forget me.’

‘You have my word,’ the prince repeated.

W
hen Petra woke, a small streak of light was cutting through the earthy ceiling. Rumplestiltskin was asleep in the chair and the huntsman had made a place for himself on the floor. There was no sign of the prince. Of Toby. Not wanting to wake them, she crept quietly along the narrow tunnel and up the ladder into the fresh air.

Toby was sitting under a tree in the morning sunshine and he smiled at her. ‘They still asleep?’

‘Like babies.’

‘What a beautiful day.’ She sat beside him, the grass dry even though it was only just past dawn. ‘Warm too.’ He was staring out at the slowly-waking city and Petra thought she’d never seen anyone more handsome in her whole life, and nor was she likely to. She reached up and turned his face to hers and slowly kissed him. Despite the stubble on his face his lips were soft as they met hers, his tongue and hers entwining until the heat inside her was too much and she fell backwards, pulling him with her. She slid her hands under his shirt and felt him quiver as she traced her fingers over his flat stomach, teasing the line of hair that ran down from his chest to beyond his belly button.

He groaned and wrapped one hand firmly in her hair as her own moved lower, her breath coming harder as he pushed up her dress. She reached for him through his trousers and he paused and gripped her wrist. His face was flushed and the yellow flecks in his green eyes had brightened with his lust.

‘Are you sure?’

She answered by smiling and wrapping her legs around his hips, pulling him towards her.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he managed, before their passion overwhelmed them and any words were lost in mouths and hands and movement and love.

When they were done, they lay together and looked at the sky and laughed and smiled in the way new lovers do, and then kissed some more. Soldiers could have stood over them and Petra wouldn’t have noticed. This was true love. She’d realised it the first time she’d seen him, and her heart had known it the first time she’d heard his distant howl through the forest wall. He was for her, and she was for him. Petra and Toby. Petra and the wolf.

‘Are you hungry?’ he said eventually, gently pushing loose strands of hair out of her face. ‘There’s a bakery just down there. We could get some bread.’

‘What about the first minister’s men?’ she asked.

‘They’re not looking for us, they’re looking for Rumplestiltskin.’ He grinned and got up before pulling her to her feet. ‘And if he’s not carrying a spindle I doubt very much they’d recognise him. Soldiers, as a rule, aren’t the brightest boys. Not in this kingdom at any rate.’

‘Then let’s get some bread.’ She linked her arm through his and they strolled down the path in the sunshine as if they had no cares in the world.

As soon as the waft of baking hit the light breeze, Petra realised just how hungry she was, and they joined the small crowd of early risers waiting for their turn at the baker’s hatch. She was lost in her own thoughts of love and laughter, leaning her body into him, needing as much contact as possible, until she felt Toby’s grip tighten slightly on her arm, and then the words of those around them became more than just background hubbub and her appetite vanished.

‘I just saw the blacksmith’s wife. It came into their house through the back door last night. The blacksmith came down to catch it ripping a haunch of venison they’d been saving apart. He said he’d never seen such a beast. Its eyes glowed, that’s what the blacksmith said.’

‘It’s not natural, everyone knows that. All that blue fur. And twice the size of a normal wolf.’

‘Should be hunted down. Maybe then the forest will open up.’

‘Maybe the wolf’s what’s cursed us.’

Toby mumbled at the baker who presented him with four large freshly baked rolls, and then he tugged Petra away.

‘We’ll go to the queen and she’ll send soldiers to find it. Nowhere to hide with the forest closed round us. They’ll hack it to death. Before it starts coming for the children.’

She kept her arm in his and kept their pace slow as they walked back up the path and the voices faded behind them. Their sentiment echoed loudly in the silence though, Toby’s jaw stayed tight and all smiles were gone.

‘Don’t listen to them,’ Petra said. ‘They’re just stupid gossips.’

‘I would never attack children,’ he said, through gritted teeth.

‘I know,’ Petra said. ‘Forget about them.’ It was easier said than done, and she knew it. ‘Come on, let’s see if the others are awake. Find out where the prince has gone.’

Beautiful as the day was, she couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief when they were underground again. Whatever she’d said to try and make him feel better, Toby was right to worry. Petra might know very little about court life, but she understood village gossips. It didn’t take much for a few exaggerated words to become blazing torches and pitchforks, and the idea of a mob coming for Toby made her stomach lurch up to her heart and vice versa.

‘
N
o,’ Toby said, when they’d heard the huntsman’s plan. ‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘Yes, I do.’ The huntsman glowered up back from beneath his dark hair. ‘That girl’s dead because I bandaged Beauty’s finger and woke her. I have to put it right.’

‘It has to be put right, yes. But not by you.’

Most of the bread lay half-eaten on their plates, any hunger forgotten after hearing of what the Beast had done, and of the prince’s deal with Rumplestiltskin. Petra felt quite sick. But nothing could prepare her for what came next.

‘I’ll do it.’ Toby said simply. ‘You can all go back to the forest and I’ll stay.’

‘No,’ Petra gasped. ‘That’s stupid. You have to come too.’

‘Why?’ He looked at her, his eyes flashing bitterly. ‘You’ve heard what they said. Why would it be different anywhere else? Wherever I go, I’ll be hunted. At least here I’ll be free.’

‘You can’t!’ Tears sprung to Petra’s eyes. ‘We can’t be apart. I won’t leave you!’

‘You’re better off without me,’ he said. ‘Safer too. When the mob comes, which they eventually will, they won’t take kindly to anyone who’s protected me.’

‘You can’t do it anyway,’ the huntsman sighed. ‘It must happen tonight. You’ll be a wolf.’

‘Wait until the morning,’ Toby said. ‘I can do it then.’

Petra stared at him. The idea of living without him – of knowing that he was just the other side of the wall, living on, young and healthy, as she grew old and died with only the sound of his distant howling drifting through the wood to haunt her – was too much to bear. For a moment she couldn’t breathe.

‘We can’t wait until morning,’ Rumplestiltskin said. ‘It will be too dangerous; the Beast will be too alert. The plan is set for tonight.’

Petra’s head spun. She could see Toby’s distress. He didn’t want to leave her, but neither did he want to spend his life as an outcast. Always lying to people. Always hiding.

‘Wait,’ she said, suddenly. ‘Wait.’ As the perfect thought struck her, she smiled. ‘The curse doesn’t affect the one who wields it?’

Rumplestiltskin nodded.

‘Then I’ll do it,’ she said. ‘Toby can guard the room and I’ll prick her finger.’