Beauty and the Beast: Part VI
The sun was starting to set and Belle had no idea where she was. She had fled down the dirt road, although it more resembled an overgrown path, in the general direction she believed she had first travelled from. It was hard to remember the exact direction after all this time. Now she had thoroughly lost herself. The road was unfamiliar, along with all her surroundings. There were no signs pointing her towards civilization. She had passed some farmers’ hovels an hour ago, the closest she had found to seeing any actual people, but now she seemed to have wandered into a forest. Trees stretched up to the sky all around her. As darkness set in, she could hear wolves howling in the distance. Perhaps she should turn back and try her luck at one of the farms.
The snap of a twig made Belle’s head shoot up like a startled deer. Another followed shortly after. Someone or something was nearby. Was it the wolves she had heard earlier? She listened carefully as she crept to the side of the road. There were no animal sounds, but only the faint sound of voices. It was men she was hearing. She let out a sigh of relief and returned to the road. Perhaps these travellers could help her.
After a minute or so, half a dozen men appeared on the road, holding torches to ward off the darkness and chatting amicably with each other. One burst out in boisterous laughter at some joke told by one of the others. None of them noticed Belle until she drew close enough to be revealed by the torchlight.
“Can you help me?” Belle asked, holding her arms close to her chest to ward off the cold. “I seem to be lost and can’t find a main road. I need to get to Morlaix.”
The six men exchanged glances, a mischievous glint in their eyes. Belle had seen it before and suspected she knew what it meant. She backed away instinctively.
“What’s a woman like you doing out here at night?” one man asked, holding his torch forward to better reveal Belle’s figure. He licked his lips from between the gap of his missing front teeth.
“I’m just trying to get home,” Belle said, moving step by step backwards as the men approached. “Please, can you point me in the right direction.”
“Aye, we can do that,” a man with a nasty scar where an eye used to be said. He let out an evil chuckle shared with his companions. He tried to sidle up next to Belle, but she slipped away. “Let us have a little fun first.”
Belle let out a gasp as her heel caught in a stray root and she tumbled onto her rump. The men drew closer and she was forced to crawl away until her back was pressed up against a tree. The man with no front teeth pushed his scarred companion aside and sent a lewd grin Belle’s way. “Let’s see what’s under that dress of yours.”
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on her, scoundrels!”
The Beast, the man who had kept her prisoner for so long, rode out of the forest astride a white steed, a sabre in his hand. He pointed it at the toothless man, his expression grave. “Back away if you value your life.”
There was a moment of tense silence before the six rogues burst out in laughter. The toothless man did back away from Belle, if only to move into a formation with his companions. Some drew swords, the others pistols. The Beast did not seem deterred, keeping his sword poised and ready to strike.
“Looks like the lord here wants to order us around,” the scarred man said, stepping forward and waving his pistol around. “You don’t want to mess with us. We’ve killed enough of your kind during the war.”
The Beast noticeably bristled at their words, especially after he noted the tricolour cockades some of them wore. From her vantage point, Belle could see the fury in his eyes. She had seen him angry before, but this seemed to rise from some dark place deep inside him. The nobleman’s hand was clenched so tightly it looked as though he would snap the hilt of his sword. The rogues just continued to share a jolly laugh as they waved their weapons around menacingly.
Without warning, the Beast kicked his steed, spurring it forward. The sudden motion startled the rogues as they quickly tried to fend off the noble and his horse coming their way. Those who had pistols fired hastily, sending their shots wide. The rest stepped out of the way of the horse, raising their swords above them. The Beast rode in, swinging his sabre. He slashed one man across the chest before he could strike, sending his spiralling to the ground with a spray of blood, while his steed knocked another man aside, flailing wildly as he tried to avoid getting caught underneath the horse’s hooves. The horse broke through the group, and the Beast turned about to prepare for another pass.
“Get him already,” the scarred man said, helping the man who had been knocked down by the horse back to his feet. They charged the Beast as a group before he could get his steed moving again. The Beast slashed savagely with his sabre, keeping them at bay as best as he could. Eventually the toothless man got a hold of his shirt and pulled him from the saddle, tossing him right to the ground. They quickly gathered around him, punching and kicking him where they could. They did not understand how deep his anger went.
The Beast let out a feral roar that startled the rogues even as they continued to wail on him. The noble snatched one man by the ankle and pulled so hard that the man flopped down onto his back, his head hitting the hard ground with such force he was instantly knocked unconscious. He then proceeded to expertly kick out at another man’s ankles, knocking him back onto his rump. The remaining three grabbed for their swords as the Beast leapt to his feet, snatching his sabre off the ground as he did.
Three of the men came at the Beast as one, their swords flying at him from all directions. The noble parried their blows like an expert fencer, keeping his free arm behind his back as his sabre surged through the air with ease. One rogue drew too close and lost an ear for his mistake. He clutched at the bloody mess on the side of his head and scurried away. That left just two, the scarred man and the toothless one, although the one he’d kicked over was rising back to his feet.
Deciding upon a change of tactics, the scarred man nodded towards the man not engaged in the swordfight and said, “Get the girl.”
Belle had remained frozen in her spot the entire time, frightened by the violence going on around her. As the one rogue started her way, she scrambled to her feet, only managing to trip and fall over again. As she finally managed to get back to her feet, she grabbed a stick that her hand landed on, wielding it awkwardly before her. The man approaching just grinned.
“Don’t you dare touch her,” the Beast said, struggling to fend off two swords at once. He pressed his attack, trying to break past them and get closer to Belle. His urgency made him slip up. The scarred man’s sword slid past his defences, cutting into his side. He gasped and clutched at his side, blood welling up between his fingers.
The man closed in on Belle and she swung her stick at him. He cut it in half with a swipe of his sword. She dropped the useless stump and backpedalled until her back was to a tree. She tried to circle around the tree, only to trip on yet another root and end up on her hands and knees. She could hear the man’s footsteps behind her. She crawled forward and let out a yelp as the rogue grabbed her by the hair. Her hand brushed against a rock and she grasped it. As the man tugged on her hair, forcing her back to her feet, Belle spun around and swung the rock at the man’s face with all her might. It collided with a sickening crunch, the rogue’s jaw crumpling and teeth flying from his open mouth. He let out a strangled gasp and collapsed to the ground, clutching at his pulverized jaw. Not wanting to give him another chance to attack her, she smashed the rock against the side of his head, knocking him unconscious.
While Belle had managed to handle her attacker well enough, the Beast was struggling. His movement was slowing and he stumbled once or twice. Blood continued to flow from his wound. Another strike from the scarred man found its mark, creating a gash across his chest. He stumbled back, nearly colliding with his horse. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the rifle he usually used for hunting strapped to the saddle. He had avoided using it earlier due to his preference towards swordsmanship, but these were desperate times. He pulled the weapon free and swung it around. His first instinct was to blow one of the rogue’s head off, but the more humane side of his saw the gun aimed much lower. Taking only the time to aim his shot, the nobleman fired a round into the toothless man’s leg. The rogue let out an inhuman screech as the meat of his leg was torn to shreds. He collapsed immediately, sobbing hysterically.
It was around this time that the scarred man finally noticed that all his companions were either wounded or dying. As the Beast stepped closer, swinging his sword back and forth experimentally, the rogue made a choice that most dishonourable men tended to make: he abandoned his friends and fled into the woods. Those of his companions who were still conscious ran or crawled after him. The toothless man left a trail of blood behind him as he dragged himself into the bush.
“You came after me,” Belle said tentatively, not certain whether the noble wanted to take her back to his castle or not.
The Beast nodded weakly and tried to say something, but suddenly fell to his knees, clutching at his side. Blood ran freely through his fingers. He gave one pleading look directed Belle’s way, his deep blue eyes peering into her soul, and proceeded to pass out. His horse neighed and flicked its head at his shoulder as though trying to wake him up. The Beast did not move.
Part of Belle told her to flee. The rogues would not be bothering her now and the Beast would surely not follow in his condition. Yet looking down at him, watching his lifeblood seep into the dirt, she knew she could not live with herself if she left him here to die. Whatever his intentions had been in following her, he had saved her life. She owed him that much.
Using all the strength she had left, Belle lifted the Beast up. He was heavier than he looked and she nearly collapsed under his weight. She persevered though, finally managing to lug him up onto his horse. She had to droop him sideways across the saddle, for she had not the strength to put him upright, and she suspected he’d just fall right off anyway. She leapt up behind up, sitting herself on the horse. She grabbed the reins and snapped them, guiding the horse back the way she had come. Hopefully she could get him back to his castle before he bled out. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if he died.
