Tale as Old as Time Read online

  All sounds stopped, though, as she carefully opened the door further. The smell of food told her she had found the kitchen and her stomach gave another hunger pang in response. The room had counters and tables, a large hearth at one end, and a large metal… thing at the other. In the cottage at home, Mama only had a small fire with hooks she could use to bring pots closer or farther from the heat, and the supper table to prepare at. This looked like a monstrous version of her little cooking corner.

  The old man and Adira sat at a table in the center as Chip and three young women stood about the room, frozen in the middle of their tasks. And all of them were staring at Cedra.

  “I-I apologize,” she stammered as she made to back out of the room.

  “Nonsense,” cooed Adira. She rose and immediately pulled Cedra into the room. “You must be hungry. Of course, you’ve met Chip and Clarence.” She gestured to the boy then the man. “And here we have Arianne, Jane, and Rose.” Each woman bobbed her head when her name was spoken. Now that she stood closer than the door, Cedra saw the one named Jane was with child, though still in the early months, and she wondered where the father was. Rose had the fading remnants of a black eye, and Arianne had an awkward hold on a bowl she was wiping out. “Now, as for supper.” Adira trailed off as she all but pushed Cedra onto the bench at the table.

  “But the master said-,” Rose whispered.

  “Oh, never you mind,” Adira waved her off. “Tuarl isn’t Kenum and I’m not letting the poor girl go hungry.”

  She began to putter around the kitchen in the same matter she had around Cedra’s room, darting back and forth, knowing where everything was. It was clear the kitchen was her domain. A small loaf of bread was produced from a box in the corner, a knife from a block on the counter. A large pot on the metal thing (“It’s a stove,” Clarence whispered to her, “much better for cooking”) had a thick brown stew that got ladled into the fresh cut trencher. A spoon was pulled from a drawer and the warm meal placed in front of Cedra. Her first few bites were tentative, uncomfortable as she was with everyone watching her. After Adira put everyone back to work, her hunger took over, and she began to wolf down the rich meal. By the time she was done, even the trencher was consumed.

  “Healthy appetite on you,” Clarence said. “It’s a good sign. The Duchess Beytill had a good appetite on herself.”

  Cedra started. How many more people were hiding in this castle? “Is the Beast married?”

  Clarence and Adira laughed. “Oh goodness, no,” he answered. “Never thought he’d a mind to marry, not after what his brother done to him. No, I mean his mother. She came to us from far off in the north. Big appetite on her. Gave Duke Beytill two big sons. Daughter would have been a strong one, too, if it wasn’t for-” He cut off at a shake of the head from Adira.

  “I didn’t know your master had a sister.”

  “Oh, yes, pretty girl. Kenum’s wives weren’t big eaters though. Tiny things, the third was smaller than you, but I think not eating had more to do with the man they were married off to than their size.”

  “You talk about the – about Tuarl’s family as if you’ve known them for ages.”

  “Oh, we did, me and Adira. We were here when the Duchess came and all the children were born, and lived to see all of them die, save Tuarl. He was a sweet lad growing up, never saw a child more eager than he. That is until-” he made a gesture down his forehead and eye, meaning the thick scar. “He ran off not long after. It’s good to have him home.”

  Cedra turned to Rose. “And have you known him long as well?”

  The girl looked terrified at being addressed directly, so Adira answered for her. “No, dear. Arianne, Rose, and Jane came to us within the past few years and only got to meet Tuarl when he came back. Chip had never met him, either.” She yawned. “It’s getting late, darling. Are you finished?” Cedra nodded and Adira took her spoon and platter to the washbasin. With a quick scrub, the pieces were laid out to dry. “Off to bed, now, dear.” She gave Cedra’s cheek a grandmotherly pat before leading Chip out of the kitchen. Cedra bid the rest of the company a good night and made her own way back upstairs. That night, strangely, she dreamed of grey-eyed children.

  It was remarkably easy for Cedra and Tuarl to avoid each other. Every morning he rode out, looking for the last of Kenum’s men or checking on neighboring villages, ensuring they were not struggling as they rebuilt after being burned. Cedra would wait until she saw him leave, then joined the staff in the kitchens for breakfast before helping about the castle. Some days, she helped Jane and Rose clean and mend tapestries that had been nearly destroyed across decades of misuse. Others, she helped Adira and Arianne in the garden, pulling weeds and watering the herbs. As the work grew quiet, Cedra would sing or tell stories her mother had taught her.

  She never saw Tuarl return each day. He often lingered just outside the door of whatever room she worked in, listening to her voice rise and fall. He knew someone should have been punished for letting her eat without him. Stealing a peek, he would see Cedra’s eyes alight to whatever story she told and he couldn’t stand the thought of forcing her to starve. Once, he caught her laughing at some comment the pregnant one – Joy? Jane? – made about a tale. Her smile could light the room she was in, her laugh tinkling off the walls. His very being was filled with a mix of desire and jealousy. He wanted nothing more than to hear her laugh, to see her smile, and to be the one who caused it. Why was the staff more worthy of her happiness than him? When would she learn he was not the monster she thought he was? He knew that answer was never.

  Tuarl made his way to the west tower without making his presence known. In his chambers, he threw himself across his bed, tired from the day of riding and helping rebuild a barn. Not a little anger also weighed heavy on him. Anger at his brother, at the villagers who still blamed him for their fear… His mind wandered back to Cedra. She was beautiful in her own right, hair like fire and eyes like water, tall and slender and pale. Clarence and Adira had naught but kind words about her sweetness to the rest of the staff. She was everything he was not. Her smile and laughter, though, gave her a divinity unmatched by the angels in Heaven. He wondered what it would be like for her to knowingly smile back at him.

  His mind wandered back to the day they met, to the celebration where she willingly gave herself to him. Her eyes had sparkled in the morning sun and her smile dazzled. The happiness she showed him before he revealed himself felt like a stolen treasure. He imagined her smiling that way again, knowing who she smiled at, and his groin tightened. Closing his eyes, he unlaced his trousers and grabbed his cock. He wondered what his name would sound like on her lips, giggled or said with joy. He squeezed and pulled as he pictured her standing before him, smiling, saying his name, resting her hand in his as she looked him in the eye without fear.

  Cedra stretched as Jane and Rose left for the kitchens to help with supper. Her shoulders and back were stiff from sitting over her sewing for so long. At this time of day, she was left to her own devices and occasionally found herself wandering the castle. Most of the time she returned to her chamber and worked on the old dresses she found. They were pretty, but many did not fit her or were worn in places. Until the Beast finished his supper, she worked away at adjusting and mending the clothes. Then she would go back downstairs and join the servants for supper in the kitchen.

  Today she decided to explore the west tower. Why on earth would he banish her from the top room? What could be worse than the destruction she found through the rest of the castle? The other day, she had helped clean what looked like years’ worth of blood off the tables in the Great Hall. She still shuddered when she remembered. She gradually climbed the stairs, resolving herself to find the answer and leave before the Beast returned. The door at the top was ajar and moved easily for her. So it was a room used often. At first glance, it appeared to be a chamber like hers, though as destroyed as the rest of the castle. Just inside the door stood a family portrait, the canvas torn and frame broken. Somethi
ng in the faces, though, seemed familiar to her. Before she could study it further, a noise drew her attention to where she knew the bed to be. A partition hid it from her and she peeked around.

  The Beast lay across the bed, one arm over his eyes while the other hand moved in his lap. His fist slid rapidly up and down his manhood, the head purple and leaking. As she watched, frozen, she saw the tops of his thighs tighten and his hips buck up into his fist. The sight caused her stomach to clench and something lower to throb. She looked back to his face as he moaned out. His jaw hung slack, and his face relaxed. He looked so different from the fierceness she had seen when he took her from her home, different from the anger as he told her about his brother. If it wasn’t for the scarring, he would be handsome. Cedra felt her own face start to warm as she studied him.

  The silence was broken when he groaned, “Cedra.” She gasped in surprise and backed away, thinking he had seen her. When she backed into the wood partition and caused it to rattle, she was truly found out as the Beast sprang into a sitting position and stared at her in surprise. “What are you doing here?” he snarled angrily.

  “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. She reached behind, searching for the edge of the partition, too frightened to turn her back.

  “I told you never to come here!” He rose from the bed and tucked himself away.

  “I didn’t mean any harm.” Finding the edge, she started to inch towards it.

  “Get out,” he growled. He charged at her. “Get out!”

  Frightened further at his shout, Cedra ran out the door and down the steps, past Clarence. She ignored him calling her name as she ran through the Great Hall and into the courtyard. The gate lay open before her. Without another look back, she ran through it and made for the woods beside the road.

  Infuriated, Tuarl slammed the partition to the floor, then covered his face with both hands and breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. When he looked up, his eyes locked with his mother’s in the portrait. “Why was she here?” he asked her. “I told her not to come. The one rule I gave her was not to come here. The entire castle is hers to do with as she pleased. I leave her be. Why the one place where I am?”

  A tapping at the door drew him from his musings. “Master!”

  Tuarl was immediately at attention. The old man never looked so upset before. “What is it, Clarence?”

  “The girl, m’Lord, Cedra.” He was breathing heavily, as though he had run. “She’s gone. She ran away.”

  His anger quickly changed to panic. There was word that some of Kenum’s men were still alive and skulking in the woods. She couldn’t possibly know the danger she was in! “Did you see where?” Clarence shook his head, still breathing heavily. “Sit, rest.”

  Tuarl ran out the door and down to the courtyard. The little bird couldn’t have gone too far, but he’d find her faster if he rode his horse, Daemon. He saddled the stallion as quickly as he could and kicked him into a gallop out the gate. The autumn rains had left the ground muddy and he was able to easily pick out her prints heading for the woods. He followed, hoping he could find her in time, hoping no danger came to her before then.

  Cedra’s breathing grew labored as she darted through the trees. In her fear-addled mind, it had seemed safer than the road. Now, she was tired and lost. The trees blocked much of the light from the sinking sun. Her brother was better at finding his way than she was. Locked away for most of her life, she had learned to do little outside and all her skills rested on cooking, cleaning, and sewing. She squeaked as she tripped over a fallen branch. The palms of her hands stung where they scraped against a rock and her dress was heavy with mud. As she tried to stand, she gave another whine, this time in pain. Her ankle hurt and she couldn’t put any weight on it. As she felt and squeezed it, it seemed to swell under her fingers.

  She was so focused on the hurt she didn’t hear anyone approach her until it was too late. One filthy hand clamped over her mouth and nose, suffocating her, as another held a knife tightly to her throat. She felt a tiny trickle of blood and knew any movement would be her last.

  “Aren’t you a pretty one?” The man smacked his lips by her ear. “Where are you coming from? The castle? You much belong to Kenum’s brother. I don’t remember anyone as pretty as you there. Kenum certainly would have shared you.” His hand moved from her mouth to her chest, squeezing her breast and pinching her nipples.

  Cedra whimpered. “Please let me go,” she begged. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “Hurt you?” He sounded genuinely taken aback. “I only want what was promised to me a year ago. Gold and whores. Kenum died without giving me my gold. Only fitting I get myself at least one whore.” He dug his hand inside the low neck of her dress and began to paw at Cedra’s breasts in earnest. The blade at her throat kept her from doing anything beyond crying in terror and shame.

  From a distance, in the dim light, Tuarl saw Cedra trip and watched in horror as one of Kenum’s men emerge from the gloom and grab her. Stranger was already galloping flat out, but he still spurred for more speed, needing to stop what he dreaded would come next. When he was nearly on them, he leapt from the horse and landed on top of the girl’s assailant. He quickly pulled himself loose of the man and looked for Cedra. Just as he pulled her behind him, a crippling pain shot from his thigh and he gave a yell. Looking down, the handle of a knife stuck from his leg. With a sharp yank, he removed it and drove it home in the man’s gut. Twisting and pulling upwards, he watched the man gurgle, cough, and finally die.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked as he turned. Cedra backed away, clearly still frightened. “Did he hurt you?” Tuarl repeated, spying the thin line of red down her throat. He stepped towards her but his leg collapsed from under him. With a curse, he gripped his thigh, trying to stop the flow of blood. Having nothing else on hand, Tuarl pulled off his tunic and pressed it to the wound, wincing at the pressure.

  A small, delicate hand joined his large, calloused one in holding the cloth down. Carefully, Tuarl stood, keeping his weight on his good leg, and limped towards his horse. The girl ducked under his arm and took him by the waist to help keep him up. Stranger knelt on command and the girl mounted behind him, holding tightly as if she meant to keep him from falling. Nothing was said to break the temporary truce.

  Around the Beast’s great, hulking form, Cedra saw Clarence trotting into the courtyard at their arrival, a lantern in his hand to ward off the darkness. She felt a pang of guilt to have caused the old man any form of distress, but there was no time for regrets now.

  “Clarence,” she called. “Hurry to the kitchens. Tell Adira we need hot water and clean bandages. We might also need strong thread and a thick needle. Your master has been hurt.”

  “Aye, Lady Cedra. On my way.”

  “Ordering my servants around?” the Beast rasped at her.

  “Trying to help you,” she corrected.

  He was so heavy they almost fell to the ground when she tried to help him dismount. He leaned more heavily on her towards the kitchens than he had in the forest and the going was slow. She tried to ignore the pain in her ankle, thoughts on the more severe injury of the man she supported. By the time they were in the warm room, Adira already had a pile of bandages ready, and a large kettle steaming on the stove. With Clarence’s help, she helped the Beast onto a bench near the fire, his wounded left leg stretched out. Jane, Arianne, and Rose stood on the far end of the room, pretending to still be working on supper, but casting nervous glances towards their master. Adira poured some hot water into a deep bowl for Cedra, who took it and some cloths to clean his leg. When she turned back, the Beast was bent over, dabbing at the cut with the dirty, bloody tunic.

  “Oh, don’t do that,” Cedra admonished, worried it would fester. She set the bowl on the floor before him and dipped the cloth in. He eyed her warily and started to pull away. “Hold still.” She pressed the hot cloth to his thigh and he screamed in pain.

  “That hurts!” he bellowed.

  “If you’d hold
still, it wouldn’t hurt as much!”

  “If you hadn’t run away, this wouldn’t have happened!”

  “If you hadn’t frightened me, I wouldn’t have run away!”

  Tuarl froze for a moment, realizing that for the first time she was talking back to him instead of cowering in fear. And that fear was his fault. She pressed the cloth back to his leg and he winced. In his haze, he tried to focus on something, anything, but the pain.

  “That’s my mother’s dress.” He didn’t know why he said it, but when she looked up he noticed how the blue perfectly matched her eyes.

  “There’s nothing else for me to wear,” she said uncertainly.

  “It suits you.”

  Cedra’s face reddened and she turned her attention back to his leg. Tuarl watched as she worked. The fire in the hearth made her red hair glitter and shine. Without intending to, he ran his fingers through her hair, feeling the silk of it, tucking it behind her ear so he could see her high cheekbones, still pink. Then he saw her reach for the needle and thread. He gripped the bench with both hands, gritted his teeth, and looked away, bracing for the pain. Instead, her fingers threaded through his hair and gently turned his face back to her.

  “Drink this.” Her voice was soft and he found that he wanted to do whatever she said so long as she said it in that voice. Tuarl drank deeply from the bottle, hardly feeling the burn of the whiskey. His leg already started to feel numb when she pulled the bottle away and her stitching felt like nothing more than a bit of pressure in his thigh. “By the way,” she added. “Thank you. For saving my life.”