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Part 18
Posted on Thursday, 05-Nov-98
Spending two days barricaded in one's rooms worrying whether a monstrous, magical Beast has eaten one's sister is perhaps not the best way for a person to achieve tranquillity of spirit. It certainly did nothing to soothe Beauty! No two days had ever crawled by so slowly -- any longer, and she thought she would go out of her mind with fear and worry. However, if she was doomed to share her sister's fate, then there was no point in hiding; she might as well march right out and confront her captor. It crossed her mind to wonder why, if she was doomed, the Beast hadn't threatened her with any horrible spells, or at least tried to break down her door, but she didn't let the idea bother her. He was a Beast, and who knew why a Beast did anything? He was probably toying with her by keeping her in suspense, expecting that the strain would wear down her defenses.
But he might be surprised to find that she was not totally worn down just yet! Beauty squared her shoulders and prepared to enter the garden, thinking it was as good a place as any to look for the Beast. She cared little about what might happen when she found him, as long as she finally learned what had become of Serenity. What would she have to endure before he told her? Beauty felt she was prepared for anything the Beast could do.
Or rather, anything except this. Here was the garden, in all its flowery splendor, and there was the Beast, in all his furry awesomeness, but what was he doing over by that empty bench? Talking to the lily was one thing, but carrying on a conversation with the garden furniture was something else entirely! As she listened to him, Beauty was stunned to realize that he was rehearsing a proposal of marriage, which was meant for her. But what a proposal! Compliments and insults were so evenly mixed as to be inextricable from each other. She knew not whether to feel horror or humor as a result of the extraordinary scene she was witnessing.
When the Beast turned around and unexpectedly saw her, he underwent a similar contradiction of feeling, if the expression on his face was any indication. However, he was the first to recover. "Beauty...Madam...I was just on my way to look for you. Are you quite well?"
The lady thus addressed was still trying to collect herself. "I thought I was well enough to trust the evidence of my senses, but I can hardly believe what they have just shown me."
"They do not deceive you," the Beast said, fidgeting uncomfortably. "I had hoped...I wanted to...that is, I thought..." A frustrated stammer seemed the best he could manage. Why could this encounter not unfold as he had planned it? He took a deep breath and pulled himself together, and then after making a deep bow, he spoke again. "Madam, I wished to ask if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife."
Hearing the sentiments a second time did not lessen Beauty's surprise. She knew she ought to give the Beast some answer, but she felt almost unequal to the challenge of stringing words together in phrases that would make sense to either of them. She found herself expressing the first thoughts that entered her head; in any case, Beauty had always been indulged at home by being allowed to speak her mind, without regard for the consequences. The possibility that she should tactfully moderate her opinions in such a delicate situation quite escaped her.
"Am I expected to thank you for this offer? Ought I to be grateful for your condescension? But why must I feel any obligation of the kind, when I have never desired you to bestow any particular mark of favor upon me? Your attentions can hardly be considered a favor, when they are given so unwillingly."
"Madam, if I expressed myself awkwardly, you have my apologies, but I did not mean..."
She did not let him finish. "On our journey here, my sister and I heard only that the Beast who had invaded Castle Lochlein was a horrible monster who had no purpose other than to despoil the countryside and its inhabitants, and who had most cruelly done away with the rightful ruler. I have neither seen nor heard anything that might contradict what we were told! For what did we find here? The castle empty and silent, the servants bewitched, the King vanished, the Princess -- by your own admission -- enchanted, and Prince Cheerful imprisoned! And master over this desolate place was the very Beast of whom we had been warned, whose first action was to terrify us out of our wits!"
The hackles rising on the Beast's neck and shoulders gave evidence of his increasing ire. "Beyond an accidental fright, I never offered you any injury! I tried to tell you once before, madam, that..."
Again she would not hear him. "The form of your declaration, as well, was really most extraordinary. Does the fog of magic over this castle render you incapable of distinguishing between abuse and praise? I could never be favorably inclined toward a suitor who casts these incredible slurs against my family! Despite their 'lowly station' and their 'extreme unsuitability,' my parents and sisters are honest folk for whom I have the highest affection and respect, and I will not be ashamed of them, nor of myself for being related to them!" Beauty managed to conveniently forget how often she was exasperated by her mother and younger sisters; while she might criticize them, she would not suffer anyone else to do so.
"Shall I rejoice that the woman I wish to marry is a peasant?" There was a slight growl now, rumbling under every word the Beast spoke. "It would be more of an insult to describe you as other than you are; although I admire you greatly, I will not be blinded by my feelings. How can the family of a woodcutter's daughter compare to mine, which can trace its royal lineage for generations on end?"
Beauty looked as if she were about to speak, but she did not. The King took advantage of her momentary silence to continue. "So I am to be condemned by ignorant gossip and my own honesty; and this disfiguring illusion, which renders me so hideous in your eyes, apparently denies me any right to defend myself! But what if my shape was not that of a Beast? If I could charm you with a handsome face, perhaps you might have fewer objections to my suit." Such petty remarks were normally beneath the King's dignity, but he felt he had been sorely provoked.
"You are mistaken, sir, if you assume your appearance influenced my answer," she answered coldly. "Even if you were the King of Lochlein himself, I should not be inclined to change what I have said. Whoever you are, you would be the last man on earth whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry! But how can any rational person believe you are a man, when you only behave like a Beast?"
She rushed on, determined to say everything before her courage failed. "I have a more compelling reason to refuse you, and well you know it! Your most recent crime clearly shows the extent of your corruption. How could I possibly accept as my husband a creature capable of such depravity? To have taken your revenge on my dear sister Serenity, who never did wrong to anyone in her entire life, who is the most gentle person who ever lived..." Despite her best efforts at control, a sob choked Beauty's voice, and she turned away to hide the renegade tear that crept down her cheek.
Now the Beast was perplexed, as well as angry. "Your sister? What on earth are you talking about? How can you think that I..."
She whirled back to face him, furious at herself for showing her weakness and at him for claiming innocence. "Do you dare deny it? I have not seen my sister for these past two days and can only assume she has become the latest victim of this accursed place. And will you destroy me, too? Or do you mean..." She went pale as the idea suddenly came to her. "Do you mean that I must be your wife in exchange for Serenity's freedom?"
The Beast was appalled. Did she truly think him capable of such barbarity? "Madam, on my honor, I swear I have done nothing to your sister."
"Honor? Bravely spoken, indeed! But what honor is there in the words of a Beast?" Beauty could not resist taunting him, so convinced was she that he was the cause of her sister's disappearance.
The King, stung by her continuing disbelief, allowed his voice to become weighted with every ounce of hauteur at his command. "My words have both honor and courtesy, for those who have the sense to hear it," he said. "The villain who cursed Castle Lochlein could have spared the exertion of his power. What need is there of illusion, when there are in the world people like yourself who will not see the truth of what is before them?"
By now Beauty was utterly reckless and past caring for the effect of her words. "I am willing to believe you are under some spell, since I have never seen or heard of a creature like you before. However, I doubt that your shape is an illusion -- surely you were transformed into the physical representation of your true character! Your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain match your appearance as well as if it were your natural form!"
"ENOUGH!" The Beast's roar crashed across the garden, and the sudden noise startled all of the crows and ravens who had been drowsing on the roof into flight. The King longed to be able to escape as easily as the birds could, but besides his lack of wings, he was weighted to the earth by years of royal training that required him to be courteous no matter what turmoil he was feeling. He forced himself to wait for the dark cloud of fluttering, cackling, feathery shapes to settle once again.
"Madam, your feelings are quite clear, and you can have nothing further to say. I suggest that we end this interview immediately, before either of us adds anything we might regret more than what has already been spoken. I will bid you good day." At the end of this brusque speech, the King bowed, turned away from Beauty, and vanished into the interior of the castle through the nearest archway.
After such an incredible exchange, Beauty felt it was quite an achievement to walk as far as the nearest marble bench. She sat there in silence for a while, but her storm of thoughts did not abate in the least. None of it made sense! She was herself, she was in the same castle where she had awoken this morning, and yesterday, and the day before -- she even pinched herself to be sure she was not dreaming -- and yet all was confusion.
Why should the Beast wish to marry her? Their meetings had been nothing but conflict! He certainly could not be in love with her. If the Beast was so much in need of a wife, surely a creature of such obvious magic could summon a succubus out of the ether who would do just as well as, or perhaps better than, an ordinary woman? Or if he had some evil plan in mind that required her presence for its execution, there were easier ways of going about it than tricking her into marriage! And yet...he had seemed so sure of being accepted, and he had seemed honestly surprised by Beauty's objections.
She found men mysterious enough, so how was she to know a Beast's motivation? He was an enigmatic creature, crammed so full of contradictions that Beauty simply could not comprehend him. Oh, if only Serenity were here! She would know what to do -- or if she did not, just talking with her always made Beauty feel better, even if it did not improve her understanding of a particular puzzling situation.
Thoughts of her sister were enough to threaten Beauty's tenuous hold over her emotions, for despite everything that had occurred that day, she was no closer to discovering where Serenity had gone. Beauty therefore hastened back to her chamber, where she could be alone and unobserved with her worries.
As for the King, habit had directed him to the library, where he was always assured of finding sanctuary. With time for solitary reflection, he would be able to examine his past words and actions, or even his very soul, to discover how he had acquired the faults for which Beauty had condemned him - and how he could rid himself of them.
For he was staggered, more than he could admit, by the impact of her words. To hear her repeat, again and again, and with such unyielding conviction, her belief that his character was no better than the illusory shape he wore, was nearly unbearable. At their first meeting, he could have attributed it to the surprise of his appearance, but even afterwards she never wavered in her accusations! Good God, could what she said be true? Was it only the effect of the enchantment -- oh, let it be so! -- or was he really such a monster? How had he come to this? He paced restlessly around the room, oblivious to his surroundings, trying to master the confusion her scathing insight had created.
There must be some way to rebut the charges she had leveled against him! Although the King did not wish to face Beauty while her revelation was still so raw and painful, there was no alternative but to do so, and soon, if he was to redeem himself. But how to begin? The first step would be to tell her the entire history of the castle's enchantment, which she had so far refused to hear. If she had only been less stubborn and had permitted him to speak when he tried to explain...! Why, he ought to have his servants drag her to the throne room, where he could force her to listen!
Then he stopped short. What was he thinking? While it might be a much-desired release of his anger, any harsh display would only serve to confirm Beauty's fears, and do nothing to change her mind! He shook his head ruefully. Here was his first lesson: his behavior as a King was not so very different from his behavior as a Beast, after all! There had to be a better way, something that would entreat her attention, instead of compelling it...
His glance, roaming over the furnishings in search of anything that might suggest a solution to his dilemma, lit on the massive mahogany writing desk which stood guard over one corner of the library. It had not been used of late, for the routine business and correspondence of Lochlein's administration had fallen off remarkably as the citizens of the surrounding kingdoms had learned of its sorcerous curse. (Really, did all of the other kings and barons believe they could be enspelled through the simple act of writing or answering a letter? It was ridiculous.) And Beasts in general had very little need of pen and ink.
But he was not truly a Beast, was he? The illusion which bound him affected the outward form of his body, not its ability to function. If he was to prove to Beauty that he was indeed a man, what better way to begin than by demonstrating his understanding of the proper actions and manners of a man?
The idea was instantly seized upon as his best hope yet, and several drafts of a letter were soon composed - and as quickly discarded. The King, however, paid no attention to the increasing drifts of crumpled parchment and broken quills that littered the surrounding carpet. He was determined that every word should possess perfect courtesy of tone and perfect clarity of meaning. He would stay here all night writing, if he had to!
Taking action made him feel better already. For the present, he might be very near despair over Beauty's opinion of him; but opinions might always be changed.
Part 19
Posted on Tuesday, 24-Nov-98
The servants were kept very busy in the library that night, scurrying back and forth to keep the sconces well supplied with candles and to ensure the fireplace never lacked for logs. Except for the occasional scrape of a tinderbox being struck to light a fresh taper, or the clatter of a poker meeting the grate a little too harshly, causing a shower of sparks to fly up the chimney, the passage of the ghostly hands of the maids and under-footmen through the library was utterly silent. Even if they had miraculously regained their corporeal forms, however, it is doubtful whether the King would have noticed them. He was far too absorbed in writing his letter to Beauty to notice anything other than quill, ink, and parchment.
He had lost track of how many times he had written and rewritten parts of the missive. A few times he had thrown down his pen in disgust, feeling the proper words would never come. At other moments he would write effortlessly, the words seeming to flow onto the page of their own accord.
It was not until many hours had passed that the determined intensity of his composition finally relinquished its hold on him. Not quite daring to believe that he had finally said everything, and said it properly, he carefully laid his pen in its holder. Upon standing, he discovered that his neck and shoulders were painfully stiff from having been held too long in one position during the final spate of the last few paragraphs. He gingerly flexed the muscles, working out the kinks, as he slowly walked over to the window.
Dawn was just breaking, and the first pale rays of light were making their way into the garden, which this window of the library overlooked. The King tried to take heart from the hopeful way in which the freshly illuminated flowers greeted the morning. Surely his effort could not fail? His letter was unlikely to remove all of Beauty's dislike and fear of him, but might it not serve as the first step towards an understanding between them?
He fervently hoped it was enough. Returning to the desk, he seated himself again and looked at the lustrous sheets of parchment, covered closely in even black lines of writing. All that was yet wanting was his signature, but first he wished to read it over once more.
Now, in the normal turn of everyday events, it can be exceedingly difficult to read a letter that someone else has in his possession. As the teller of this tale, however, such an action is as easy for me as it is for a powerful genie to conjure together all the pearls of the Orient with a snap of his fingers. Therefore, I can tell you that the King (who will not mind our intrusion, since he is as unaware of us as he is of the servant-hands) wrote thus:
Beauty -Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you. My purpose is altogether different. I wish to offer you my explanation for what has befallen at Castle Lochlein, both before and since your arrival, and also to answer several accusations that you made against me. Your immediate impulse may be to read no farther and to destroy this letter, but I must request the courtesy of your attention.
To reply to your charge that the magic permeating Castle Lochlein is of my creation, I repeat my denial that it is not. Since you can only know of what happened here from some secondhand source, you must necessarily be unaware of the true course of events. Your misapprehensions may be easily corrected if you will permit me, as one who witnessed it all, to tell the tale.
Some time ago, I began to hear rumors from the surrounding countryside that a powerful sorcerer had entered the kingdom. Eventually this sorcerer made his presence known by means of a spell cast in a nearby village, and when the villagers begged me to rid them of this menace, I rode out from this castle to do battle with him. Upon arriving at the village, however, all I discovered was a fearsome illusion, and the sorcerer was nowhere to be found. In that moment, I realized that I had left the castle and its inhabitants - including my young sister, the Princess Graceful - undefended, and I returned here with all possible speed. I made my way to the central garden, which has always been a favorite place for my sister to spend her days, and there I discovered the sorcerer. He was just beginning to cast some malevolent enchantment, but he was interrupted by my arrival.
His magic, therefore, found its target in me, instead of in my sister, who had been standing only a short distance away. Its result is the monstrous shape that you have learned to abhor so greatly since you came to Castle Lochlein. I did not hear the incantation the sorcerer used to shape his spell, so I do not know if there is any way to break the illusion - and illusion I assure you it is, since I am in form, if not in spirit, as much a man as I ever was.
Even if I had been thinking clearly at the time - which I certainly was not, first from fear and anger and then from the disorienting effect of the spell - I would not have acted differently. I am devoted to my sister, and I would reckon that falling under an unbreakable enchantment is hardly any price to pay, if by doing so I could keep her safe. Alas, my effort was in vain, as you have seen from the current state of the castle. The sorcerer had more magic yet to use. Just as he was about to be apprehended, the sorcerer pulled some glittering object from a secret place within his robes and flung it to the earth, creating a confusion of smoke and light. When my senses cleared, I saw everything as you see it now. In my sister's place was the beautiful golden lily; where the servants had been, an army of hands remained; and my most faithful counselor, who had been in the front ranks of those about to capture the sorcerer, had vanished utterly. Even now I fear for his life.
To your charge that I imprisoned Prince Cheerful in the glass coffin, I offer another absolute denial. Prince Cheerful is one of my closest friends - and I do not have many, so I cherish the few I can claim - and I would never do anything to harm him. He and I have known each other for quite some time, but the duties of our respective kingdoms have allowed us fewer opportunities to meet than we used to have. I admit that we had previously made arrangements for him to visit me, and he could not have arrived very long before you and your sister did. However, in all the tumult I had entirely forgotten he was to come, and my first knowledge of his arrival and of his fate came when I followed you and your sister to the room where the glass coffin lies. I can only suppose that he was trapped my some remnant of the sorcerer's spell.
Your accusation that I have somehow harmed your sister, I also most strongly deny. For what possible reason would I do her injury? My defense will be a relation of the circumstances of my last meeting with her, and I will leave it to you to form your own conclusion from that evidence.
Your sister and I met, as you may readily guess, in the hall where she was keeping vigil by Prince Cheerful. I had often met her there before, since she rarely left the room and since I also visited the place several times a day. Before the occasion I will mention, your sister and I had hardly exchanged more than a few words: the polite nonsense of a murmured greeting, or a general inquiry into the other's health. On this day, however, your sister turned to me and gravely thanked me for the cloak and stool I had instructed the servants to bring for her use. They did much to keep her from becoming tired or chilled during the long hours of her watch, she said. In reply, I said I only wished I could do more to comfort a lady who obviously held my friend in as high esteem as I did. She blushed charmingly and said she hardly knew how to account for her own strong affection for the Prince, since she had known him such a short while.
This brief exchange led us further into conversation, with Prince Cheerful a happy subject of discussion for us both. I told her as many stories as I could remember about our boyhood together, when our fathers allowed us to escape from our tutors to get into all the trouble that young boys - even when they are young princes - are bound to find. She told me of her first meeting with him, when he rode through your village on his way here, and the strange and wonderful effect it had on her. Finally, she told me of the vow she had sworn to break the enchantment that held him. I applauded her courage, but I confessed my doubts that she would find a way to unravel the spell, when my own attempts had yielded nothing. Her reply, however, convinced me that if it could be done, she would do it.
"I must and I will," she said, "because I love him."
Shortly thereafter I took my leave of your sister, having formed a great admiration for her. I made a vow of my own: that if there was anything in my power I could do to assist her, it would instantly be done. I am distressed that she is gone from the castle, and I worry for her safety. I realize that my fear for her can be nothing compared to what her sister must feel; but I think we must believe that she is somehow on her way to fulfilling her promise to the Prince. A lady of such surpassing strength and courage would not have left you for any other reason.
Lastly, of the charge that I have behaved in a most arrogant, conceited, and generally despicable manner since your arrival, I am indeed guilty. There can be no defense for it. My pride has ever been my worst defect, and for many years it has been permitted to flourish unchecked. I thought that as the most powerful ruler in seven kingdoms I had a right to behave however I pleased; as long as my subjects were content, what did my arrogance matter? No one until now has had the temerity to challenge the King of Lochlein by suggesting that he ought to behave otherwise.
You may not be satisfied with such generalities, however, and will instead demand to know why I acted as I did on several specific instances which you and I can both remember. I do not seek here to justify myself; again, my sole intent is explanation.
At our first meeting, I was angry and afraid because my first glimpse of you was when you and your sister were in the garden, which I had forbidden every other inhabitant of this castle to enter. Seeing you so close to the golden lily, I immediately assumed the worst and thought you meant to harm her. As I have already said, I would do anything to protect my sister, and so I wanted you to stand away from her. However, I had forgotten the hideous appearance of the sorcerer's illusion, and I frightened you into fleeing instead.
I did mean to apologize when I found you, but all rational ideas were startled out of my head when I saw what had become of Prince Cheerful. Remember that this was my first glimpse of the glass coffin, and it looked as likely to me that you had imprisoned him there as it did to you that I had done it. My cold manner afterwards was purely a result of my stubborn pride; it was intolerable to me that you should doubt my word, and I never considered that I had behaved badly.
The remainder of my poor conduct resulted from an incorrect assumption. When I first saw you and your sister, clothed as you were in the fine gowns and jewels I had commanded my servants to provide for you, I believed you both to be ladies of high and noble birth, come to Castle Lochlein from some distant land. And I also believed I knew your reason for coming hither: to add yourselves to the crowd of eligible princesses, baronesses, and duchesses from whom I planned to choose my Queen.
Before you fling this letter away and feel yourself insulted by my mistaken conjecture, you should know that for many months now Castle Lochlein has been full from foregate to turret with several hundred ladies, all of distinguished bloodline and title. I have long sought a queen, but I was conceited enough to assume that no wooing was necessary on my part; my kingdom and my crown alone would be sufficient to make me a desirable husband, I thought. Therefore, I simply bade every eligible lady within reach of my messengers and couriers to present herself at my court, where she was welcome to stay until I made my decision.
Although I was initially flattered by the sheer number of noblewomen who came to Castle Lochlein in response to my summons, I soon began to feel a vague disquiet. No matter how many of them I conversed with, played chess with, or walked in the garden with; no matter how many I praised for their skill at music, needlework, or horsemanship; no matter what I did, not a single one could please me. Perhaps it was my habitual arrogance that made me so dissatisfied with them all. I would like to believe, however, that my disappointment arose from the feeling that none of these ladies possessed any special quality that set her apart from the others. Not one of them seemed to care about what, if anything, was behind the crown and royal facade of the man she avowedly wished to marry. As long as she could be the Queen of Lochlein, everything else was secondary - even her husband.
This suspicion became hardened in my mind as the months passed; for while more ladies were always arriving at the castle, not a single one ever left. If any of them had tried to learn about the qualities of the man, instead of admiring the trappings of the king, at least some of them must have concluded that they could not be happy with me. After all, if you were able to discern so many flaws in my character, these ladies ought to have seen them as well! But none did. Instead, their only occupation (as reported to me by my counselor, whose duties took him all over the castle and made him an invaluable spy) was to chatter about how rich and powerful they would be when they were queen.
Having seen the many empty hallways here in Castle Lochlein, I am sure you must be wondering what became of these ladies. Did they run away in fear when they saw that the King had become a Beast? No, indeed. The sorcerer's final spell transformed them into the massive flock of birds that is perched day and night on the castle's roof. And do you see - even now they have not departed. They squabble and peck at each other as much as they did when they were human, and they probably still believe that I will select one of them to be queen when this spell is broken.
But I digress from my narrative. When we met in the portrait gallery, my surprise arose from your admission that your father is a woodcutter. Your revelation, however, did nothing to change my assumption that you wished to be chosen as my bride. In this case, it was most certainly my arrogance that ruled me: I was tremendously insulted to think that a commoner would dare to presume so high. My pride never allowed me to consider that anyone of humble birth could possess attractions equal to or surpassing the qualities of the noblewomen who had so far failed to catch my interest.
There is a question I have asked myself while I was composing this letter: while I believed your sister came to Castle Lochlein with a disinterested motive for helping Prince Cheerful, why did I think you had come with the mercenary or ambitious purpose of seeking a wealthy, powerful husband? The answer is because of my own vanity and selfishness. Since I admired you, I imagined that you could do nothing but return my admiration. If my kingdom and my crown were good enough for the other ladies who sought to wed me, then they would also satisfy you, and so you would surely feel grateful for and honored by my attentions.
I have wronged you in thinking so, for which I apologize. You saw me not as a King, not even as a man, but only as a Beast - and when I acted accordingly, you responded with all the repugnance and contempt that such a Beast deserves. You showed me that what I am bears no resemblance to what I thought I was. I intend to try to change my ways, if it is not too late already, so that if I ever regain my human form I shall be worthy enough to wear it.
I will only add that you are welcome to remain at Castle Lochlein for as long as you like, and my servants will supply you with anything you desire that is within their power to give. I am grateful for the care you have shown my sister, and I hope daily that your sister will soon be returned to you. Please accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.
When the King came to the end of the letter, he paused. How to conclude it? He had meant to sign with his full name and title, accompanied by the royal seal, but that seemed vastly inappropriate. If he had not comported himself as a true king ought, then he had no right to call himself one.
There was a grim look on his face as he realized that he could not begin to improve himself until he fully acknowledged what he had become. He carefully took up the pen and signed the letter simply:
Beast.
With great deliberation, he shuffled the pages together, folded them neatly, and used a simple wax seal to secure them. Then he wrote Beauty's name on the outermost sheet, letting his fingers trail as gently across the smooth parchment as if it had been her cheek. He stood, letter in hand, and looked out the window again, noting how far the sun had risen during his final contemplation of the letter's contents. She must surely be awake and about somewhere in the castle; it would take almost no effort to summon a servant to deliver the letter into her hands.
A far greater effort would be required for an act that would carry greater significance: he should give it to her himself. That was certainly the right thing to do. But no - he could not. Facing Beauty again, knowing how she despised him, was impossible. She would never believe the things he wrote, not while everyone who would have supported his claims was vanished or enchanted. She would hate him for having the gall to show himself before her again. Or worse - she might laugh at his feeble attempt to redeem himself.
Stiff with despair, the King's arm jerked once, and the letter flew out of his hand. It landed on the embers in the fireplace, where it burned to ash in a matter of moments.
Part 20
Posted on Saturday, 28-Nov-98
When Beauty awoke the next morning, her mind was as full of confusion as it had been the night before. She was no closer to reconciling the extreme contradictions that seemed to reside within the Beast's character, and this made her quite irritable. Beauty could normally determine a reason why anyone did anything - even if that reason made sense only to herself. In her frustration, she soon fancied she had a headache, and began to take a perverse pleasure in finding as much fault as she could with her surroundings.
First of all, the mattress of the bed was lumpy, and the coverlet had become hopelessly tangled. In a huff, she quickly removed herself from the offending furniture and stormed into the dressing room. The hands who had been coaxing the fire to life quickly noticed her arrival and presented her with a choice of gowns for the morning. Beauty spurned them both - in her current temper, she was not likely to be swayed by silk and satin, even though one was her favorite color and the embroidery at the neck was exquisite. She flung on a warm robe over her nightdress instead and gloomily proceeded to the sitting room.
It would take more than passing through a doorway to improve her bleak mood. Not a single chair was comfortable enough to rest in, although she tried four in succession. To top everything, the room was getting a draft from the open window! Slamming the casement shut solved that problem, but the traitorous sunlight spilling gloriously across the carpet still looked far too cheerful to suit her. In a moment, she had pulled the curtains closed. However, in the sudden darkness that resulted, she tripped over the edge of a rug and fetched up hard against the edge of the little table upon which another pair of hands had laid out her breakfast. Nursing her bruised knee, Beauty limped over to a nearby sofa and sat down hard, now determined to feel sorry for herself.
Her progress into the depths of a comfortable misery was interrupted when she heard something completely unexpected. From across the room, there floated the amused sound of a woman's laughter. Beauty was instantly alert, desperately hoping she knew whom the owner of that voice might be.
"Serenity?"
At that moment, the room was filled with a lovely golden glow. The curtains pulled themselves back, the window swung itself open, and the breakfast table gave itself a little shake to straighten the dishes that had been knocked askew by Beauty's collision. The returning light revealed the shape of the lady who had found Beauty's antics so humorous.
Stately as a queen, she was even more fair than words could describe. She wore a gown of some rich material that rippled like water, with a cool opalescent gleam. The silvery net that bound her sable hair was worked of strands so fine that they would have put spiderweb to shame. And her crown was a diadem from which hung suspended on her brow a single perfect pearl, rivaling the whiteness of her skin.
Under ordinary circumstances, Beauty would have been so much in awe of this magnificent apparition that she could not have fallen into a curtsey fast enough. However, she was still resolved to be cross - the more so since this lady was manifestly not her sister - and she would not move from the corner of the sofa on which she had curled herself.
"Am I to suppose," Beauty said, petulantly, "that you are my fairy godmother?"
The regal lady, who must certainly have been accustomed to more civil forms of address, did not look offended. If anything, she looked even more amused than before. Her dark eyes fairly danced with merriment. "You need not suppose any such thing," she replied with a smile, "although I am a fairy. I am called Elegant."
"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, I'm sure," Beauty said, addressing the back of the sofa.
At this display the lady simply could not withhold her laughter. "Come, my dear, this will never do. Are you going to sulk there all day? Come have something to eat, and I'm sure you will feel better." Two chairs by the breakfast table obligingly arranged themselves, and the teapot lifted itself and filled two waiting porcelain cups, from which the scent of rose hips and cinnamon curled invitingly.
Beauty was not about to admit that the tea did smell delicious, or that she was beginning to be hungry. With as much dignity as she could muster, she stalked over to the table, planted herself in a chair, and glowered at the fairy across her teacup.
Elegant was completely unimpressed with her performance, and smiled benevolently as the butter knife attended to Beauty's toast.
Breakfast and her returning sense of curiosity slowly cajoled Beauty into friendlier behavior, so by the time she finished eating she was ready to find out more about her strange visitor. "Am I to know why I have the singular honor of receiving a call from a fairy?"
"The recent events here at Castle Lochlein are of great interest in the magical realm," was Elegant's answer. "However, none of us in the fairy courts really knew what had happened until my good friend, the Sorcerer Steadfast, learned that it was his magic orb - stolen by that awful wizard - that had caused everything. When he asked me to help, I couldn't refuse. He provided us with such a glowing account of your sister that I simply had to meet you, my dear." She paused, noticing the blank look on Beauty's face.
"I beg your pardon? Magic orb? A wizard? And who is Sorcerer Steadfast?"
"My dear, do you mean to tell me you have not heard these things? How have you managed to be here at Castle Lochlein for so long and not know? Surely your sister..." Elegant trailed off, closing her eyes for a moment in concentration.
When she opened her eyes again, she turned a kind look upon Beauty. "I'm sorry, my dear, but there is another matter that requires my attention. I do wish these foolish princes would stop getting themselves turned into frogs! However, before I go, I would like to give you some advice. First of all, remember what your friend the Fox told you. Magic may often fool the eye, if you only believe what you see. Second, remember that I will do all in my power to help you - but there are some things you must do for yourself. Finally, beware of forming hasty conclusions. Before you make up your mind about what has happened here at the castle, there are a few other things you should know. It is not my place to tell you, but I can show you where to start looking for the truth."
The fairy stood up and beckoned for Beauty to follow her. Thinking that the fairy was about to take her somewhere in a winged chariot - perhaps pulled by butterflies, as a fairy's chariot ought to be - Beauty was surprised when they walked no further than across the room. When Elegant told her to look between the little writing-desk and the wall, to see what she might find, Beauty saw a folded piece of parchment there. When she picked it up, she was amazed to see her own name written on it - Serenity must have left it for her! She was about to unfold it and read it, but the fairy stopped her.
"I am sure you are eager to know what news your sister has to impart, but I would suggest that you read the other letter first."
What letter did she mean? Beauty was certain that there had been nothing else on or next to the desk, except the note that Serenity had left behind. However, when she looked again, she decided she must have been mistaken. In the center of the polished wooden writing surface, just where she might have laid a paper she meant to read, was another letter. This one was several sheets thick, with a plain wax seal, and her name was inscribed on the outermost sheet in writing she did not recognize.
"Where on earth did this come from?" Beauty turned to address her question to Elegant, but the fairy was no longer there. All that remained was a faint glitter in the air to mark her departure.
Well, if a fairy was going to suggest that she ought to read something, Beauty wasn't about to refuse. Who knew what kind of trouble would result if she didn't obey? She was sorely tempted to forego the reading, however, when she broke the seal, read the first few lines, and realized from whom the letter came. The Beast could have nothing to say to her that she needed to hear! Then she reflected that reading the letter could do no harm - and as soon as she finished it, she could read Serenity's note.
So, she moved to a chair by the window, where the light was good, and began to read. She skimmed it quickly, scoffing at the paragraphs in which the Beast denied his guilt in every matter related to the enchantment of the castle, but agreeing vehemently when he confessed his failings of pride and arrogance. Her duty complete, she tossed the Beast's letter aside and turned to the other. She had to read it three times before she fully comprehended it.
Serenity had gone to attempt to break the spell holding Prince Cheerful! A sorcerer had come, just as the fairy said he had! And - most surprising of all - the Beast was apparently telling the truth about himself.
Beauty had never wished so sincerely that the ground would open beneath her feet to swallow her.
Was it possible that she had been wrong for all this time? That the Beast was truly not the monster he seemed to be? She hastily took up his letter again and read it through more carefully, this time cringing at every word that recalled her unjust accusations. How had she come to be so mistaken about his true character?
Beauty cast her mind back, trying to recall when she had first formed her conclusion that the Beast was the evil creature responsible for all the misfortune at Castle Lochlein. Had there not been someone with a respectable kind of authority, perhaps some former inhabitant of the castle who had luckily escaped the calamity, who had convinced her? No - all her knowledge came from bits and pieces of supposition and hearsay, passed along by fellow travelers who had not been any nearer to the actual events than she herself had. She had believed farmers' wives, peddlers, tinkers, and one very crabby old man, none of whom had been touched by the spell, instead of the man who had been the magic's first victim.
To think she had been so assured of her righteousness! Serenity had been willing to doubt, to take a more sympathetic view. Beauty upbraided herself again: why had she not allowed herself to be taught by her sister's example?
And now what was she to do? Surely the Beast - who was no Beast, but a King, which made the situation infinitely worse - would never wish to see her again. He would never forgive her! In fact, he would be perfectly justified if he were to throw her out of the castle and forbid her to return. She paused a moment, as she remembered the last paragraph of the Beast's letter - he had not ordered her to leave, after all.
Beauty took a deep breath to clear her head. There was only one thing to do: she had made a grave error, she had offended, and so she must make amends. She pushed away her last remaining fear at the thought. If the Beast had been so courteous in his letter - and not only then, but since she had met him, she was forced to admit - then honor required her to offer courtesy in return, starting with an apology.
Then Beauty's sense of humor remembered itself, and she chuckled. Surely if she was brave enough to refuse a King's offer of marriage, then she would have no difficulty finding the courage to apologize to him! Beauty was still laughing at herself as she left her suite of rooms, on her way to look for the Beast.
Part 21
Posted on Wednesday, 02-Dec-98
Everything seems to be moving along nicely at Castle Lochlein, so why don't we check in on some people we haven't heard from in a while...
Tree...
Tree...
Tree...
Bush...
Thorns!
Bush...
Tree...
Tree...
Tree...
Caprice was thoroughly sick of the forest, whose greenery had become monotonous days ago. At every step, it seemed she was either turning her ankle on a rock, tripping over a root, or stumbling against some plant whose leaves had sharp edges. And there was not a prince to be found! She should never have listened to that singing baker's wife, who probably was a lunatic, after all. To make things worse, the sun was setting, and she was not looking forward to another night spent out in the open. Sleeping on rocks and twigs could hardly compare to the luxury she imagined she would have found if she had never strayed from the southern road!
Just when she felt she could not walk another step, Caprice thought she saw a light ahead. She shook her head - she was probably hallucinating. She looked again. No, the light was still there! She walked toward it as quickly as her remaining energy would permit, and soon she could see that the light came from a candle set on the windowsill of a small cottage.
But by now Caprice was wary of strange cottages in the wood. Creeping cautiously up to it, she pushed at the wall. When it showed no signs of collapsing, she took a careful look at the doorway. The door was of ordinary size, so whoever lived there was probably not a dwarf. Then she moved ever so quietly to the window and peeked inside.
In the light of the candle and the red glow from the banked embers in the fireplace, Caprice could see that the inside of the cottage was dirty and disorganized. Dirty dishes were piled anyhow on the one table, and several other pieces of furniture were broken or knocked over. Could the place be deserted? Caprice decided to investigate a little more, so she went back to the door, found it was open, and entered.
Other than the main room she had seen from the window, there was one smaller room with several beds in it, and another room she could not enter, since its door was securely locked. Caprice didn't worry herself about what might be behind the locked door; instead she returned to the bedroom and flung herself on one of the beds. Even if the owners of the cottage were inhospitable enough to throw her back out into the woods, she might as well get some sleep before they returned.
Seemingly only a moment after she lay down, she was startled back to consciousness by a horrendous flapping, whirring, and honking noise. Caprice was so surprised that she promptly fell off the bed and hid herself under it. Then she inched forward along the dusty floor until she could see what was happening.
Six enormous swans had flown into the cottage! They honked at each other and twined necks for a moment, as if making sure they were all together and safe, and then they did an amazing thing. First, they began to blow and hiss at each other, and their feathers blew off, creating a perfect storm of whiteness in the small room. Then they stripped off their skins like shirts, and when they were done six young men stood there, each dressed in silk and satin, and each more handsome than the next.
For perhaps the first time in her life, Caprice was speechless, and she could only stare at them from under the bed. She was saved the trouble of saying anything, however, because the most handsome of the young men addressed her first.
"Fair maiden, do not be afraid. We mean you no harm."
Still somewhat stunned, Caprice allowed the young man to help her out from under the bed. As she got to her feet, she managed to surreptitiously brush off her skirt, make sure that her bodice was laced to its best advantage, smooth her hair, and pinch some color into her cheeks. She bestowed her brightest smile impartially upon all six of them and asked, in her most innocent voice, who they were and what they might be doing there.
The handsomest youth, who was apparently the spokesman for the group, explained their plight. They were the six sons of a powerful monarch, he said, and they had been enchanted by their stepmother, a cruel witch who was jealous of the king's affection for them. This witch had sewn a spell into six shirts, which she had thrown over the young men one night as they lay sleeping. The spell condemned them to wear the form of swans, except for one hour each day, at sunset, when they could be human again.
Caprice was thinking quickly. SIX princes! She was in a room with SIX princes! If only her mother could see this! Surely if she could break the spell, there would be at least one of them who would be grateful enough to marry her. So she batted her eyelashes at the handsome young men and expressed great pity for their terrible situation. "And is there no way to end the enchantment, sir?"
"There is, kind lady, but our stepmother in her jealousy and envy made the counter-spell very difficult." The prince went on to say that the witch's spell could only be broken if Caprice would sew six shirts out of nettles, which she must pound to thread beneath her feet. If these nettle shirts were thrown over the swans, they would permanently regain their human forms. There was, however, one important condition: she could not speak, or laugh, or cry during all the time she was making the shirts; for with the first sound she made, all of her work would be in vain, and the spell would never be broken.
Caprice couldn't help herself: first she snorted in disbelief, and then she laughed out loud. "You have got to be kidding! First you want me to sew shirts - when I avoid any kind of needlework like the plague. And you want them made out of nettles - do you have any idea how painful those are to touch? And then I can't make any noise while I'm working on them? Not on your life! There must be an easier way for me to catch a prince."
All six young men looked very sad at her words, especially the prince who had spoken to her. "Alas, will we never be free? If only we could find our dear sister, who would be willing to do anything to help us!"
"Better her than me," Caprice said, under her breath.
The hour during which the princes were free from their swan-shapes was fast slipping away. Six of them put on their swan-skins again, but the sixth hesitated a moment. "Whether you will help us or not, I must warn you that you are in great danger. This cottage is a den of thieves, and they are likely to return at any moment. They must not find you here, for they have sworn to kill any unfortunate traveler who finds their lair. Farewell." Then he pulled on his swan-skin, and all six flew out the window again.
"Don't worry, your worship," Caprice said as the swans disappeared. "I can take care of myself quite well, thank you."
Still, the threat of a den of thieves is not to be taken lightly. Caprice armed herself with a heavy poker from the fireplace and moved to where she would be hidden by the door of the cottage when it opened. She did not have long to wait - in only a few minutes she heard the sounds of several people approaching. Finally all of them were inside the cottage, and one of them started to close the door, and then...
WHAM!
Two went down with her first blow, two more got knocked over with a return swipe at knee level, and the fifth tripped over the other four, knocking them all to the ground just as they were attempting to rise again. Before the sixth could react, Caprice dropped the poker, grabbed the dagger out of the sheath on his belt, and put him in a head lock with the blade at his throat. And she hadn't even broken a sweat.
"Now this could be interesting," she said in a conversational tone, as she tightened her grip on the thief's hair. "How are you doing tonight, boys? I'm your new partner!"
Now, the leader of the thieves (who called himself Weasel) wasn't a stupid man, and after seeing Caprice's display of fighting skill, he needed very little convincing to see that she had the right attitude to be an asset to his gang. He also happened, coincidentally, to be the man whose throat Caprice was threatening to slit, so her powers of persuasion were greatly enhanced by the knife she was holding. Once they had reached an agreement - Caprice wanted eighty percent of the profits from any plunder, but the thief wouldn't budge from his final offer of sixty percent - there were handshakes and introductions all around, and Caprice even apologized for assaulting the first five.
Well, a thief wasn't a prince, Caprice reflected, but this fellow was somewhat attractive (in a scruffy, stubbled, slightly-in-need-of-a-bath kind of way), and it was high time she had some fun! She might also make her fortune while she was having fun, she thought, as Weasel showed her what was behind the locked door on the other side of the cottage: it was a room heaped with gold and jewels and other precious items of every description.
Caprice's career as a bandit got off to a roaring start the next morning, when she stole a pretty red velvet hood and cape from an unsuspecting little girl who was taking a basket of cakes and wine to her grandmother's house. (Caprice stole the basket, too - she was hungry.)
As a matter of fact, the whole band soon became notorious for the daring deeds of thievery to which Caprice led them. They were eventually forced to leave that part of the country, however, when they became a little too ambitious. Trying to infiltrate that larger band of thieves (there were forty of them, actually) was probably not the smartest thing they ever tried. They might have been captured and killed inside the other gang's treasure cave were it not for the fact that Caprice remembered the magic words that revealed the exit. Being satisfied to escape with their lives, they cut their losses and traveled northwards, to see what other unsuspecting victims they could find.
Part 22
Posted on Sunday, 06-Dec-98
Author's Note: Here's what you've all been waiting for! (You knew I had to get back to Serenity sooner or later...) Don't worry, she'll have her fair share of adventures!
No sooner had Serenity seated herself on the Fox's tail and taken a firm grip of his fur, than they were off like the wind. Mountains, rivers, and forests all flashed away beneath the Fox's paws as he ran. Their direction was westward, always westward, toward Castle Rahonain and the setting sun.
Fleet of paw though he was, the Fox was not tireless. When at length he stopped to rest and Serenity looked around, she found the countryside was not at all familiar. They were in a very pleasant spot, however: a little wooded glen that boasted both an apple tree and a gurgling brook. Serenity ate and drank and soon felt much improved.
All at once, this quiet interlude was marred by the sound of some creature in distress, struggling in the underbrush. Serenity hurried to discover what was the matter, and a little distance into the woods she found the source of the noise. A large handsome eagle had become tangled in a snare, and it was twisting and thrashing about in a vain attempt to get free. One wing and one leg were already tightly entwined, and no matter how hard the bird struggled or how often it slashed at the strings with its beak, it only seemed to bind itself tighter.
"Do not distress yourself," Serenity called to it. "I will help you." It would certainly be a shame for such a beautiful bird to become some hunter's prize, and she was determined to release it. She quickly searched until she found a sharp rock, which she used to saw through the imprisoning strands.
The Eagle was frightened at first when she came near, but when it realized she meant to offer aid it quieted, watching her work with its luminous golden eyes. When the last thread of imprisoning net was severed, the Eagle leapt into the air, soaring in a joyful spiral. Once it had worked all the stiffness out of its wings, it returned to hover gracefully just over Serenity's head.
"Oh, thank you! I flew straight into that net when the wind tossed it up before me, and I feared I would never get free! You have saved my life, for which I will be forever grateful, and I wish to reward you." So saying, the Eagle flew off, and when it returned, it was carrying a large egg in its claws, which it dropped gently into Serenity's outstretched hands. "Take that with you on your journey, and open it when you are in need. What's inside will surely be of use to you. Thank you again, and remember that I will be glad to be of service to you in return!" The Eagle dipped its wings in salute before flying away. Serenity waved farewell until the Eagle was no more than a speck in the distant sky, and then she took the egg to show it to the Fox.
The Fox, who had watched everything from his perch on a fallen log a safe distance away from the bird's sharp claws, duly admired the egg. He suggested the Serenity should put it safely away, since it might have some purpose when she reached Castle Rahonain. Feigning indifference as he lazily examined his front claws, he said, "And did you never think of passing by? After all, it was only a bird."
"No, never!" Serenity replied. "It would have been heartless of me to leave the Eagle there, when it was so easy for me to set it free."
The Fox smiled to himself, very pleased with her answer.
Once more Serenity took her place on the Fox's tail, gripping his fur tightly so she would not fall off. Their speed was incredible, and mountains, rivers, and forests all flashed away beneath the Fox's paws as he ran. Their direction was westward, always westward, toward Castle Rahonain and the setting sun.
Some time later, the Fox once again grew tired and stopped to rest. When Serenity looked around, she saw that they were on the edge of a green meadow, with late wildflowers strewn across its grassy expanse. Along the edge of the meadow was a mass of blackberry brambles, and here Serenity gathered enough fruit to satisfy her hunger. A little farther on was a small pond, at whose edge she stopped to wash the berry stains from her hands and to refresh herself with a drink. She was walking back to where she had left the Fox when she heard a tiny voice from down near the ground.
"No! Stop! Wait! You will crush us all!" There before her was a large anthill, teeming with workers who were busily carrying leaves and twigs. Serenity's next step would have come down right in the middle of the scurrying mass of ants, and it was the Queen Ant herself who had cried the warning.
"I beg your pardon," Serenity said. "I'll go another way." She carefully walked around the ants, taking care not to place her feet where she might harm any of them. When she was safely on the other side, the Queen Ant called out to her again.
"Oh, thank you! Our city has been the work of many generations of ants, and who knows if we could ever have built it up again? You have saved our lives, for which I will be forever grateful, and I wish to reward you." The Queen Ant then disappeared inside the anthill for a moment, and when she returned, she was carrying a large seed pod, which she laid at Serenity's feet. "Take that with you on your journey, and open it when you are in need. What's inside will surely be of use to you. Thank you again, and remember that my workers and I will be glad to be of service to you in return!" And then the Ant Queen disappeared into the grasses again.
When Serenity returned to the Fox, she told him all about this strange adventure. He eyed the seed pod warily, and agreed that she should put it safely away with the Eagle's gift. As he was nonchalantly combing out his whiskers, he asked, "And did you never think of walking on? After all, they were only ants."
"No, never!" Serenity replied. "It would have been careless of me to destroy all the Ants' hard work, when it was so easy instead to go around them."
The Fox smiled to himself again, very pleased with her answer.
Once more Serenity took her place on the Fox's tail, gripping his fur tightly so she would not fall off. Their speed was incredible, and mountains, rivers, and forests all flashed away beneath the Fox's paws as he ran. Their direction was westward, always westward, toward Castle Rahonain and the setting sun.
Just as the Fox thought he might need to stop to regain his energy, their progress was blocked: they had come to a wide ocean, and the Fox could run no further. The sandy shore was empty and barren, with tough weeds growing among piles of driftwood, and not a creature to be seen except a solitary gull flying high above.
While they were resting in the shade of a tall rock, hard by the water's edge, Serenity was roused from her contemplation of the sunset - fancying she could see the turrets of Castle Rahonain lit by the golden rays streaming across the water - by the sound of some creature in distress. Quickly she got up and went to investigate, the Fox trotting by her side.
Not far away, they found the source of the cries for help. A large shimmering fish, its scales reflecting a rainbow of colors, had stranded itself in a small tidal pool. With the tide now on its way out for the evening, the water level in the little depression was becoming increasingly shallow, and the poor fish was in danger of suffocating. Its struggles became more and more frantic as it realized it had no way to get back to its home in the sea.
Serenity was determined to help the unfortunate creature before its situation became dire. "Never fear, friend Fish," she called. With great care, she reached into the water and took firm hold of the fish, making sure she was not pinching any of its fins too tightly. Then she lifted it up and brought it quickly to the water's edge, wading in until the waves were deep enough for the fish to swim safely. When she released it, the Fish spun itself in a happy circle and went playfully leaping through the surf. Once it had fully recovered from its fright, it swam back to where Serenity was still standing, lifted its head out of the water, and spoke to her.
"Oh, thank you! I was foolish enough to swim into that pool, never thinking I wouldn't be able to get out again! You have saved my life, for which I will be forever grateful, and I wish to reward you." So saying, the Fish swam off, and when it returned, it was holding a clamshell in its mouth. The Fish tossed the shell to Serenity, saying, "Take that with you on your journey, and open it when you are in need. What's inside will surely be of use to you. Thank you again, and remember that I will be glad to be of service to you in return!" And then the Fish gave a flip of its tail and disappeared into the depths.
Serenity put the clamshell into her pocket with the egg and the seed pod, and then she walked back onto the beach and sat down again by the rock. As she started to wring some of the brine out of her skirts, the Fox - who had watched the entire proceeding - sat down next to her.
"That was well done," he said, fastidiously using his paw to brush some sand out of his tail. "Did you never consider leaving it? After all, it was only a fish."
"No, never!" Serenity replied. "It would have been cruel of me to ignore the Fish's plight, when it was so easy for me to offer assistance."
The Fox smiled to himself a third time, very pleased with her answer.
The next morning, as Serenity and the Fox were walking down the beach, they spied a small boat drawn up on the sand. Its owner proved to be an old man with a lined and weathered face and a beard as white as a gull's wing. He greeted them kindly, but he was very surprised when he heard where Serenity wished to go.
"Castle Rahonain? That's a far piece westward yet. I have sailed these seas nearly my whole life, and I have never gone there. However, if you like you may sail with me, and I will take you to my brother, who is a great deal older and wiser than I. He may know the way to the castle."
Serenity thanked the old man gratefully. She expected the Fox to share her joy, but when she turned to him she was surprised to see his whiskers drooping in a most melancholy fashion.
"I am not a creature of the sea," he said, "and it would mean my death to cross the ocean. But although I will not be able to accompany you, if you continue as you have done, I am sure your quest will be successful. Remember when I told you that your kindness would help you wherever you went?
"If ever you're glum and down-hearted,
Recall the new friendships you've started;
The Ant, Eagle, and Fish
May help answer your wish
In trials ahead still uncharted!
"Have no fear, think of the Prince, and we will meet again when you return."
She embraced the Fox tightly and kissed the red fur on top of his head, then watched as he walked away. He stopped and gave her one last look over his shoulder, and then in a moment he was gone. She allowed the old man to help her into the boat and resolutely turned her face westwards.
Serenity and the old man sailed on and on in the little boat, sometimes raising the sail to let the wind and waves carry them, and sometimes with the old man rowing. Dolphins leapt before and behind them, and once a sea otter frisked by the side. After a long while, Serenity thought she saw a smudge on the horizon. After a longer while, this smudge resolved itself into a desolate sandbar, miles away from anything; but upon it was built a little wooden hut, next to which lay a neat and well-kept fishing boat.
The old man pulled the boat onto the shingle and walked the short distance to the door of the hut, where his brother was waiting to greet him. They embraced warmly, and the old man told his brother why they had come and where Serenity wished to go.
The second old man replied, "Castle Rahonain? That's a far piece westward yet. I have sailed these seas nearly my whole life, and I have never gone there. However, if you like you may sail with me, and I will take you to my brother, who is a great deal older and wiser than I. He may know the way to the castle."
As the second old man was collecting his gear and readying his boat to sail, Serenity thanked the first old man for bringing her so far. He wished her luck on her journey and returned to his own craft. Soon he was lost to view in the wide expanse of sea.
Serenity and the second old man sailed on and on in the little boat, sometimes raising the sail to let the wind and waves carry them, and sometimes with the old man rowing. Dolphins leapt before and behind them, and once a whale lifted its massive head by the side. After a long while, Serenity thought she saw a smudge on the horizon. After a longer while, this smudge resolved itself into a desolate sandbar, miles and miles away from anything; but upon it was built a little wooden hut, next to which lay a neat and well-kept fishing boat.
The second old man pulled the boat onto the shingle and walked the short distance to the door of the hut, where his brother was waiting to greet him. They embraced warmly, and the second old man told his brother why they had come and where Serenity wished to go.
The third old man replied, "Castle Rahonain? That's a far piece westward yet. I have sailed these seas nearly my whole life, but I have only gone there once, when I was still a young lad. However, if you like you may sail with me, and I will take you there."
As the third old man - who was by far the most ancient of the brothers, but whose eyes were still bright and merry - was collecting his gear and readying his boat to sail, Serenity thanked the second old man for bringing her so far. He wished her luck on her journey and returned to his own craft. Soon he was lost to view in the wide expanse of sea.
Serenity and the third old man sailed on and on in the little boat, sometimes raising the sail to let the wind and waves carry them, and sometimes with the old man rowing. Dolphins leapt before and behind them, and once a pelican landed on the water by the side. After a long while, Serenity thought she saw a smudge on the horizon. After a longer while, this smudge resolved itself into a cloud. After a longer while still, this cloud resolved itself into an island. And on this island was an imposing structure which could only be Castle Rahonain.
The third old man pulled the boat onto the sands and helped Serenity out. She thanked the third old man for bringing her so far. He wished her luck on her journey and returned to his own craft. Soon he was lost to view in the wide expanse of sea.
For a moment, Serenity was afraid. She was here all alone, the castle looked grim, and her quest seemed impossible. However, she called an image of Prince Cheerful to mind, remembering how kind and handsome he had been, and how sweetly he had smiled at her when she had given him the rose. With her love for the Prince to sustain her, she walked with resolute step towards the front gate of the castle.