Beast Lord: (Beauty and the Beast) (Tangled Tales Book 3) (3 page)

“Did you want us to do anything special?” asked Trumble once the others had gone.

“See to the livestock in the courtyard and get some of the servants to cook us a meal,” said Stefan. “Question them all as to what they saw with the attack and ask them if they know who the attackers were or why they came.”

“Aye milord,” said Trumble with a quick bow of his head before he took off at a run to do as ordered.

“What about me?” asked MacKay. “Surely there’s something I can do as well.”

“Scour the surrounding area for possible mercenaries I can recruit. If they look worthy, bring them back with you. I’ll need at least a dozen good warriors to start out with. If we can secure the castle, we will have a defense against anyone who tries to get inside the walls.”

“Stefan, you had all the warriors you needed but you sent them away.”

“This is my castle now, MacKay, and I don’t need my father or my brothers’ pity. Do you understand?”

MacKay’s gaze scanned down Stefan’s stitched-up face and Stefan could see it in his brother’s eyes that he held pity as well. Then MacKay silently nodded.

“Get out!” Stefan picked up a stool and in anger smashed it down atop the trestle table that was already on the floor. The stool broke to pieces.

“Mayhap I should hire a carpenter too while I’m out,” mumbled MacKay. “Or we’ll all have to eat on the floor before long.”

Stefan needed to rest. The battle and his injuries had drained him, not to mention the fact he’d lost a lot of blood. He made his way to the corridor, not wanting to attempt the stairs when his head was already spinning. He wanted nothing more than to peruse his newly acquired castle, but right now he needed to find the solar and lie down on the bed.

Thankfully, the first door he tried led into what looked to be the master solar. The room was large and scarcely furnished. It had a bed in the center of the room, a hearth on one wall, and a few trunks scattered around the room. He made his way to the bed that had the red velvet curtains drawn, wanting nothing more than to get off his feet. He reached out and pulled back the curtains, and jumped back, startled, when he saw what was on the bed.

Chapter 3

Stefan looked through his one good eye at the hand mirror lying on the bed. It wasn’t just any old hand mirror – this one was gold with ornate swirls and a cherub face with wings on the handle. This was Hecuba’s mirror!

He reached out for it with one shaky hand, knowing the mirror only too well since he’d seen it when Hecuba caused trouble for his twin brothers. Did this mean she was about to cause trouble for him too? Oh hell, he hoped she wasn’t going to curse him next. He was already cursed enough with all that he’d been through in the last day.

With his injured eye swollen closed, he curiously picked up the mirror and took a look at his reflection through his good eye. He removed the eyepatch and threw it down, and then focused on his face in the mirror. There, staring back at him, was a hideous beast. His brothers were right. He truly looked frightening and couldn’t stand the sight of his own face. He was about to throw the mirror down when something caught his attention in the reflection of the mirror behind him. A woman in a long hooded cloak stood directly behind him. Hecuba. A mirror always showed the true appearance of Hecuba.

He threw the mirror down and twirled around, at the same time unsheathing his sword. He held it up to the old hag’s heart.

“What do you want, witch?” he spat. “Have you come back to make more trouble?”

“That’s my heart you’ve got your blade aimed at,” she told him. “I thought you said you were going to strangle me with your bare hands.”

His father was right. Hecuba had obviously been listening.

“The next time you choose to eavesdrop, make your presence known! Who . . . or what were you and why are you here?”

“First off, put down the blade, since it’ll do you no good where I’m concerned.” She reached out and pushed the blade away, and he let her do it. If she wanted to do more damage, her powers were strong enough that a physical sword wasn’t going to stop her.

“Where is Rap? And why have you taken her?”

“One question at a time. I took the form of a chair in the great hall and was glad when you stopped smashing the chairs because I have to admit I was getting nervous I’d be next.”

“Why did you kill all those men? What kind of a monster are you?”

“Me a monster?” She walked over and picked up her mirror and shoved it into his hands. “Perhaps you’d better have another look. And I didn’t kill those men. I came here with Rapunzel because I planned on collecting something of mine from Lord Breckenridge that I finally tracked here.”

“What?”

“That doesn’t concern you. All I can say is I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Lord Breckenridge doesn’t seem to have been very popular, does he?” She laughed, and her eerie cackle filled the air.

“I don’t understand why his attackers didn’t take the castle.”

“I think it was something else they planned on taking – until you interrupted.”

“Like what?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Because you . . . know things. And by the way, I want my sister back now!”

The witch pushed her hood from her head, and all of a sudden she was no longer an old hag, but a beautiful young maiden with flaxen hair, icy blue eyes, and full red lips. She was beautiful and he found himself instantly attracted to her. Then he regained his senses, cursing himself inwardly for almost falling for another of her ploys and stepped away from her.

“You might have been able to seduce my father that way, but I assure you, it won’t work with me.”

“But you are attracted to me in this form – admit it.”

She would know he was lying if he denied it, so he answered her question with one of his own.

“Are you trying to seduce me with your witchery because my father has caught on to your games and you think you can lure in another de Bar?”

“Hah!” That seemed to amuse her and when she laughed, though she still looked like a beautiful young woman, she had the chuckle of the old crone. “You are so ugly, no woman on this earth would want to seduce you.”

“Now I’m going to really strangle you,” he said, throwing the mirror onto the bed and reaching out for her neck. She disappeared in a cloud of green fog and instantly appeared on the other side of the bed. He turned to face her. “Say what you want, we both know it’s not true.”

“On the contrary, you know how true it really is. You couldn’t seem to attract the ladies before, so what makes you think you can do it looking like that? You truly are a beast, Stefan, and I doubt that you could ever love a woman in your life anyway. You would never understand what I had with Lucio.”

“Leave my father and my siblings alone!” He slowly stalked her, rounding the edge of the bed.

“Oh, I will do that – for now, but not because you demand it.” She waved her hand through the air and ended up holding one beautiful long-stemmed red rose.

“Still trying to seduce me?” he growled, feeling like a wildcat moving in for the kill. He lifted his hands and lunged for her neck, but she dissipated once again and he fell to the floor.

“Tsk, tsk. When will you ever learn?” She was standing at the foot of the bed with the rose in her hand again. “It’s your turn, Stefan.”

Her words cut him to the bone because he knew she meant it was his turn for a curse.

“So what are you going to do, Witch? Turn me into a bee and smash me when I come for the flower? He slowly got to his knees, feeling every muscle in his body aching. Whatever curse she threw at him, it could not possibly be as bad as what he’d just been through.

“No, that’s too good for you,” she said, turning back into her old hag form. “I actually don’t have to curse you in that way – you’ve already done it for yourself.”

“What does that mean?” He got to his feet. “Spit it out, old woman, and stop with your idle chatter.”

“It means that you’re transforming into a horrid beast all on your own, with no help from me. With the anger raging in your soul, before too long you’ll be consumed by it. But what I will do, is make sure that not only you – but everyone sees it.” She flicked her hand and he felt a whoosh of air pass through him.

He clenched his jaw and let out a breath, feeling as if his curse would be worse than either of his brothers’ since it sounded as if he were going to die. “Why do you taunt me old woman? Did you come here just to deliver your message of doom?” He started to pity himself and she must have seen it, because she shrugged her shoulders and held the rose out to him.

“This should prove to be more entertaining that the turmoil I bestowed upon either of your brothers. Take this.”

“Why?” He looked at the rose but did nothing to accept it. “Is it poisoned? When I sniff it will I die from your black magic?”

“I pity you, Stefan, I truly do. If not, I wouldn’t have come back here at all.”

“I don’t believe you! You pity no one and care only about yourself.”

“Me?” she asked, sounding amused. “Are you sure you’re not speaking of yourself? Do you know the reason why you never had a wife nor your own castle or the wealth and bounty that your brothers possess?”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s because you don’t possess the ability to love.”

“How can you say that? I’ve always been the cautious one, caring too much for others. That’s my downfall. Today because of that, a dozen innocent men died.”

She cackled again. “You surely think highly of yourself when you know nothing at all about care or love. Your cautiousness was nothing more than fear.”

“I am not afraid of you, nor anything!” He was about to strangle her with his bare hands when she pushed the flower into his grip.

“This rose will live as long as there is hope that you will once again find that part of you that died today – and that you will find love.”

“I don’t care about a rose, now get out!”

“You should care. Because if you can’t learn to love and get a woman to love you in return, you’ll be consumed by the wretched beast. And if you tell the woman what it takes to break the curse in order to get her to do it, the curse will never be broken.”

“It’s not true.”

“Do what I say . . . or don’t. I don’t really care. I’ll be amused either way. Just think . . . dying by your own hand.”

“That’s outrageous! I would never take my own life, but I will take yours for all the trouble you’ve given my family.”

She went to grab for her mirror, but Stefan’s blade came down, cutting open the sleeping pallet and almost nicking her hand in the process.

“No, you don’t, old woman. I know how much that mirror means to you and you’ll have to fight me to get it back.”

There was a knock at the door and a turn of the latch. Hecuba disappeared in a puff of green smoke without the mirror as Trumble entered the room.

“My lord? Were you . . . talking to yourself?” the squire asked, looking around the room quizzically.

“Nay. Hecuba was here.”

“Really?” The squire’s eyes fell on Stefan’s hand and Stefan realized he was still holding the rose. “Planning on wooing her with flowers were you?”

“Nay! This is nothing. Nothing, I tell you.” He walked over to the window and threw the rose out. It landed in the herb garden full of weeds. “What do you want, Trumble? Do the servants have the meal prepared?”

“Not yet,” said the squire. “I came to tell you there is a young woman in the great hall that says this is her father’s castle.”

“Nonsense. It’s my castle now. Send her away.”

“I tried to, my lord, but she refuses to leave. She’s been talking to the servants and asking the whereabouts of her father.”

“What did they tell her?”

“They are still very frightened and were in hiding during the attack, but a few of them talked and told her he’s been captured and taken away by the attackers.”

“Who were the attackers? Did you find out?”

“Nay. No one knows – or is too frightened to say.”

“Send her away,” he ordered once again.

“My lord, the girl says she is in charge until her father returns.”

“It is my castle now,” he said, feeling the beast awakening inside him again. “If you won’t set the wench straight then I will do it myself.” He headed quickly toward the door. He would get rid of the wench once and for all. If nothing else, as soon as she saw his face sewn up with so many stitches, he was sure she’d scream and run out on her own.

He made his way into the great hall with Trumble on his heels. The servants saw him coming and quickly got out of his way, bowing their heads rather than to look upon his injured face. Only using one eye, he didn’t get a good view of her until he walked up to the dais and found her sitting in the padded, armed chair that was meant for the lord of the castle.

“Whoever you are, you have to leave now! I -” He stopped in his tracks when he saw a beautiful flaxen-haired young woman with icy blue eyes and full red lips look up at him. She wore a forest green gown and was an icon of true beauty. And in her hands she played with . . . a long-stemmed red rose.

“Good day,” she said with a slight nod of her head. “Sir Stefan, is it?” she asked in a voice that was light and airy yet mysterious at the same time.

He couldn’t believe it. The witch had shifted into a beautiful girl again, trying to drive him mad.

“Hecuba,” he ground out.

“Who?” She had the nerve to look over her shoulder pretending that she didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Don’t think for one minute I don’t know it’s you in disguise. You made your point clear, now get out of here.”

“I don’t know who you think I am . . . but I believe you’re mistaken.” She got up and walked down the dais steps surveying him closely, all the while twirling the stem of the rose between her fingers.

“I know it’s you, because no one but a witch would be able to look at my face without wincing right now.”

“A witch?” Her eyebrows furrowed and he heard concern in her voice. “I don’t take kindly to you accusing me of being a witch. After all, we all know witches have been burned at the stake more than once on English soil. I am not this Hecuba that you think me to be. I am Lady Bonnibel Harcourt, second daughter to the Lord of Breckenridge, and I demand you tell me where I can find my father.”

He didn’t like the little game the witch was playing with him, and figured she was angry he’d thrown the rose out the window and kept her from collecting her mirror. “You’ll demand nothing of me, now stop playing your games and trying to taunt me into seducing you, because it’s not going to happen.”

“Seducing me?” Her eyes stayed focused on him as she slowly lifted the rose to sniff it. “And why would I want you to do that when I don’t even know who you are?”

“My lord, I rather believe her,” whispered Trumble.

“Then you’re a fool, squire. This is Hecuba and I can prove it.”

“How can you do that?” asked Trumble.

“Hecuba made it quite clear I was a beast, and that she did not want me. I assure you she doesn’t toy with men unless there is something she needs from them. Isn’t that right, Hecuba?” he asked, taking a step closer to the girl.