The Heart of The Beast: A romantic adult fairytale revealing how the power of love can overcome the hardest heart. Susan Kohler
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The barn was a large wooden shed, with stalls for more than twenty horses, a hayloft, and piles of deep clean straw and sweet smelling hay. A room off to one side held tack and armour, while off to the other side stood a forge where several blacksmiths constantly laboured over the making of horseshoes, swords and arrowheads, along with other weapons and crude tools.
Both of the condemned men were held deep in the far end of the stables. She found her brother Tom chained to the wall in a stall filled with dirty hay. He and the other Tom, a lanky youth, were both considered too lowly and unworthy to even be taken to the dungeon. Both of the men had soiled their clothes from being tied up all day unable to undo their pants, and the stench in the stall was foul. As soon as they were unchained, the other Tom ran home, leaving Beauty alone with her brother.
Tom was covered with filth. He had been beaten almost beyond Beauty’s recognition. His handsome face was covered with bruises and his dark brown eyes were filled with despair and fear. His dark blonde hair was dirty and matted. Tom loved his sister dearly and once he learned of the bargain, he had pleaded with her to leave him to his fate and save herself but she held fast. She could not bear to see him hung. He wanted her to run but she refused to flee.
“He’d just hang us both! You know there is no escape from the lord,” Beauty sobbed. “Furthermore, I gave him my vow. You know I cannot break it.”
“I know you always honour your word, Beauty, but I don’t want you to end up like Molly!” Tom protested, tears in his eyes. “I cannot leave you to the Beast. It would kill our mother.”
“I can only hope and pray that I don’t meet the same fate as Molly. You know that I have to be the one who stays here, brother. First, because I love you, but also because I have looked at the facts with a cold reason. See it like this: If you are hung, we will not be able to keep from starving, lest I turn into a whore. If I stay with the Beast, you will be able to provide for Nate and mother, and only one of us will be lost. True, he will certainly disgrace and dishonour me, he may even kill me, but as long as the three of you are safe I know I will, in some small way, manage to be content.” Beauty said before adding cautiously, “I do believe however, against all reason, that all will turn out well in the end.”
“Sister!” Tom was shocked. “Could it be that you are attracted to the Beast? Do you have soft feelings for this monster of a man?”
“I confess that he is the most beautiful man I have ever seen, brother, but I am deathly afraid of him. He scares me with his smallest glance. Indeed, he is almost inhuman, with no trace of compassion or mercy in him.” Beauty lowered her gaze. “Nevertheless, I did give him my promise. I will strive to love him and to give him my affection for showing you mercy. I will try to keep my word, in all ways. Tis true, I fear him greatly but I made my choice and I gave my word. I’m glad to be able to save you. Pray for me, please God, pray that it will all be well for me.”
“I’ll pray for you, Beauty.” Tom hugged her tight before he let her go reluctantly, ignoring the tears in her eyes. “And I’ll work to find a way to save you.”
“Do not. Do not even think of it,” Beauty replied firmly. “And please God, Tom, do not attempt any vengeance. ’Twould be the death of us all, Nate and our mother too.” She held his eyes and put all her love into her words. “From this night on, I will be dead to you and our family, and disgraced as well. My only salvation, Tom, is you. As long as you are safe, dear brother, I will find some happiness. Go home now and see to our mother and Nate but remember to return on the morrow to work here.”
“How can I work here knowing what must be happening to you inside the castle?” Tom muttered.
“You have to, else our mother and Nate will surely perish. It might be that your job will even give us a chance to see each other once in a while, even though as of now he commands me to swear never to see any of my family again. It’s a small barn, and mayhap I’ll get to ride with him sometimes,” Beauty whispered, hugging him close. “Go now. Be strong and pray for me that I’m all right.”
The poignant memory of those few precious moments with her brother strengthened her resolve to please the Beast. Beauty waited in his bed, dreading the arrival of the Beast, and yet hoping he’d come soon so that she could find out what fate held in store for her. The wine helped a bit but the waiting was fearful and seemed to last forever. Before long however, she heard his footsteps, sure and heavy, coming up the hall. In that instant, it seemed to Beauty that the wait had not been long enough, that the Beast had come to her all too soon.
The Beast entered his bedchamber and slammed the door. Suddenly the large room appeared to grow smaller to Beauty. The very walls seemed to be closing in on her and she felt trapped. Her breath caught in her throat and she struggled to breathe as the very air surrounding her seemed to suddenly turn thick and sluggish. In spite of the wine, she began to tremble, shaking uncontrollably. The Beast appeared to ignore her completely, not looking her way or speaking as his hands went to the fastenings of his clothes. His very silence further unnerved her.
Lying there on the bed, looking at him as he quickly shed his clothes, she was both terrified and mesmerized by his strong, muscular body and his physical perfection. In spite of what she’d heard both from him and about him, the real shock though came when he removed his tunic and saw the multitude of scars covering his perfect form. As he briefly turned his back, she gasped as she noticed that although there were several obvious battle wounds on him, his back was almost completely covered with old scars that seemed to have come from countless merciless whippings.
“Is something bothering you, lass?” the Beast mumbled, irritated and still looking for her to try to back out of her agreement, “Or are you finding your agreement easier to make than to keep?”
“Nay, M’lord, I was but shocked to see the proof of your words about how you’d been raised, M’lord, and the reminders of how many battles you’ve fought. ’Tis rare for one so young to have been in so many wars, but the truth of your words is reflected by the great number of scars on your body.” Beauty met his gaze and whispered, “Any man who has lived the life you must have lived and seen such ugliness as you’ve witnessed would surely have to be completely hardened to the softer emotions, truly.”
“You think my body’s ugly, lass?” the Beast growled, deliberately misunderstanding her. “It makes no difference to me.”
“No! I think you have a truly well made body, M’lord, ‘tis strong and well muscled. You have a very pleasing face too. ‘Tis what’s been done to you that’s ugly.” Beauty paused, not realizing that her words had pleased him strangely. “I don’t like to think of anyone, let alone the one man I have promised to love, undergoing so much torment and suffering. Remember, M’lord, I have promised to love you in my own way.”
“Rest easy, lass.” The Beast almost smiled in spite of himself. “It’s far too late to change the past and it served to toughen me, to make me fit to lead vast armies, to fight battles and to win wars, and to rule.”
“I don’t believe you have to be so hard to rule. The old lord ruled this land wisely and yet with compassion, M’lord. He was clearly respected by the serfs but also well loved by them. He knew how to rule reasonably with justice tempered by mercy. The local peasants prospered but so did he and his family. He was widely known to truly love his wife and children, and they loved him deeply,” Beauty pointed out, a slight tremor in her voice. “He was truly a fair and just man.”
“And now the old lord is dead,” the Beast countered coldly, stalking over to the bed.
He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his hose and boots. “And his family has disappeared. Now his castle is mine to hold, his lands and peasants mine to rule. Does that not prove he was too weak?”
“And would you, with all your cold, bitter fury and strength of will have withheld against an invading horde any better than he did? Your King sent ten times as many men as the