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One day—
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‘THE BEAST! THE BEAST! Tell us about the beast!’ cried the village children.
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ONE MORNING, THE INHABITANTS of a hamlet near the border of Trasimene woke up to find that their chickens and sheep had been slaughtered during the night. There was a trail of blood disappearing into the woods as though something had been dragged there by a wild creature. A woodcutter from the hamlet had peered at the bloodied tracks in the dirt and said that whatever beast had made those marks was unlike any wild animal that he had ever seen.
Soon thereafter, several more nearby villages reported the mass slaughter of their domestic animals and farm beasts during the night. Some reported scorched earth near the bloody trails. All the villages noted the extraordinary size of the claw prints.
News of these night attacks reached the capital. The king sent the two eldest princesses with his knights to investigate.
The reports that the party brought back alarmed and confounded the court.
‘The destruction wrecked—the tracks left behind—belong to no ordinary animal,’ said Princess Alexandra.
‘The villagers talk in fearful tones of a nocturnal winged beast stalking their lands,’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘There was a child who said she saw a creature with horns and large wings like a bat,’ said Princess Alexandra.
King Theobald turned to his oldest and most steadfast knight, Sir Hugo.
‘Could it be?’ said the king.
‘The kingdom of the Black Mountain has always been peaceful in the past before it severed relations with the human kingdoms, your Majesty,’ said Sir Hugo. ‘This could be some other creature, a lone beast causing all the mayhem and destruction. However—’
‘However, it is still possible?’ said the king.
‘Yes, your Majesty,’ said Sir Hugo.
‘Whatever it is, we must be vigilant and track down this creature and stop its destructive path,’ said the king. ‘We are already hard-pressed by Ossaia on the eastern front. If it is a harbinger of things to come from the Black Mountain... We must try to discover more and plan and be prepared.’
‘What were Sir Hugo and father talking about?’ asked Princess Cristabel.
‘Gargoyles,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘I thought they were a myth,’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘Very ancient history,’ said Princess Alexandra. ‘How do you know about them, Beatrice?’
‘Sir Hugo and father and Master Greengrass and the books in the royal library,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘Except all the accounts and descriptions differ.’
‘I suppose there are as many kinds of gargoyles as there are humans,’ said Princess Alexandra. ‘Humans have not had much opportunity to meet with or study them.’
‘What kind are the Black Mountain gargoyles?’ asked Princess Cristabel.
‘If they are anything like the stone gargoyles that sit atop our citadel walls, they will be giant in stature, have powerful limbs and terrible bat-like wings, monstrous claws and horns, glowing, piercing eyes and sharp fangs,’ said Princess Alexandra. ‘And they will breath fire.’
‘But Sir Hugo said the Black Mountain kingdom was peaceful,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘I do not think that the stone gargoyles on the castle walls and abbey belfry look terrifying. They seem baleful but sad.’
‘Oh, Beatrice, I hope you do make friends with them if we ever meet them,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘But it is not a good basis for a defence strategy if the gargoyles—beasts—whatever these creatures are—these denizens of the Black Mountain kingdom turn out to be as friendly and neighbourly as Ossaia has been.’
‘I know,’ sighed Princess Beatrice. ‘I just think that if I was one of the stone gargoyles sitting up on the castle walls and seeing all the hostilities and fighting below, I would be sad too.’
Fear and rumour spread through the kingdom of Trasimene about the fearsome beast terrorising the villages. The people began to call it the Beast of the Black Mountain, wondering if more of its kind with their terrible, grotesque features and their inhuman, bestial strength and nature were lurking about, waiting for nightfall to come forth and hunt.
King Theobald was in a camp on the eastern front with his generals, defending the border, when the dreaded news reached him of a fresh attack on a village near the capital. Since he could not abandon the eastern front, he sent word for his two eldest daughters to take measures to safeguard the capital and lead a party to the aid and defence of the villages in the surrounding district. Princess Beatrice was to remain in the capital—she was not ready yet for this battle, instructed the king.
On the morning of the departure of the party led by Princess Cristabel, Princess Beatrice—who had long ago discovered all the secret passages in the castle—slipped out of her chamber, and went down through the servants’ stairwell and out to the abbey of Ermengard where, next to the postern gate, a mounted Sir Thomas waited with a second black steed laden with saddlebags.
When Princess Cristabel and her band of knights saw Princess Beatrice and Sir Thomas riding up to camp, they were horrified.
‘Oh, Beatrice!’ cried Princess Cristabel.
‘I do not need to be coddled. I am able bodied too. I want to help,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘You and Thomas have ridden into a death trap,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘How shall I ever face father and the kingdom if harm comes to you and Thomas? What was Alexandra thinking?’
‘Alexandra and Sir Hugo and the privy counsellors are working very competently to fortify the defences of the capital and surrounding villages and lands. They did not need me in the way,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘Is the situation bad?’
‘It is far worse than anything we had imagined or expected,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘It is not one beast but an entire forest of them, far more hideous and inimical than the stone gargoyles. We arrived too late. They had massacred the entire village and laid waste to two others along this route. The beasts not only outnumber us, they possess the far mightier brute force. It is not a question of battle but how long we can hold them off. We have only the relief of daylight on our side when they are immobile in stone. They are heading for the capital. I sent Sir Joshua back to warn the kingdom. You should have crossed paths with him on the way.’
‘I think we should retreat,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘We did not meet Sir Joshua or anyone else. Thomas and I took an indirect route to avoid the patrols on the main roads in case they reported back to Alexandra—’
‘You are impossible, Beatrice,’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘We had to come by a ford and a long narrow rocky pass to finally arrive here,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘I believe it is known as the Sanguineto Ravine for the red colour of its scarp face. Your party is too large to march through there for an effective retreat and it would take too long to ride through it in single file. But a lone mounted rider could ride for her life down the pass very comfortably.’
Princess Cristabel stared at her youngest sister.
‘Since these beasts breath fire, Alexandra thought we should not be lacking in that respect. Alexandra and Sir Hugo have armed the battlements and readied the regiments and village checkpoints with cauldrons of hot oil and pitch and resin and animal fats, and all manner of catapults—trebuchets, mangonels, ballistas—with flammable caltrops and firebrands and exploding fire-pots and other missiles, and the archers are armed with arrows tipped in flame as well as poison,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘Lucy helped me borrow a batch of the supplies that were easier to carry. I thought you might find some use for them.’
‘Beatrice, where did you learn such dastardly tricks?’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘From listening in at the councils of war, and Master Greengrass’ stories about knights and giants and dragons, and the tales everyone tells of your and Alexandra’s battle exploits,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘A fiery ambush,’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘Do you think it could work? We still have some hours of daylight left to prepare,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘Of course, we will need to lead the beasts away from the main road to the capital and into the pass.’
‘You are not going to be the bait, Beatrice,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘I will be riding into the mouth of that ravine. The beasts have faced me before, they will recognise me and follow. You will lead the knights and archers up to the rocky outcrop and prepare the artillery, then hide yourselves. Wait until all the beasts have followed me into the ravine. I am trusting you to lead the men and launch the ambush with precision. No one must come out of the other end of that pass.’
‘You will,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘When it is over, send word to the capital and to the checkpoints along the main roads, and station the remainder of the party at the end of the pass to keep guard,’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘I will see you at the other end,’ said Princess Beatrice, firmly.
The two princesses separated, leading their respective troops to undertake preparations for the ruse.
Princess Beatrice and her troops gathered materials along the way to the ravine to augment their existing supplies, laying out their preparations within the ravine and climbing up and arranging and camouflaging their weapons and themselves on the edge of the precipice along the two sides of the pass, archers in readiness. The knights Sirs Timothy, Lachlan and Benjamin were set as lookouts at strategic points near the approach. Then they all hid, among the natural vegetation and boulders and nooks in the rocky outcrops, and waited.
Princess Cristabel led a sortie of knights to the village on the edge of the dense woods from which they had fled when they had last clashed so disastrously with the beasts.
They came again to face the scene where they had discovered to their horror an entire winged host of beasts crouching grimly atop the church and town hall, their wings furled, their hideous forms and expressions grotesquely warped in sated satisfaction at the carcasses left like discarded peelings all around the square.
Princess Cristabel came before the largest of the beasts. He wore a frozen snarl on his features which began to grow in length and malice as he stood in a wash of moonlight, turning from stone to flesh with the rising darkness.
‘You returned, princess,’ said Lothaire, the leader of the beasts.
‘Shall we dance?’ said Princess Cristabel, and reached for her lance, her sword clasped securely in her other hand.
The winged beasts pounced.
The princess and her knights fought valiantly but briefly, for they were hard-pressed and grossly outmatched. Knights and beasts fell. When there was only Princess Cristabel left, she fled for the pass, a trail of screeching beasts in her wake. She rode at a breakneck speed into the darkness of the Sanguineto Ravine. Its steep cliff faces echoed with the sound of her mount’s hooves and the cries of her winged pursuers. The beasts gained ground, reaching out for her with their sharp claws and breathing fire. Her horse, Midnight, needed no urging to swiftness but no matter how she swerved and dodged and stung them back with the point of her sword, she felt the bite of their claws and their scalding breath on her back.
Deep within the ravine, where the pass ahead seemed to turn ever narrower and darker and never-ending and hopeless, a shower of arrows like jets of fire rained down, lighting up the darkness, igniting the pitch-smeared and oil-soaked bundles stowed inconspicuously on the floor and sides of the ravine by Princess Beatrice and her knights, their tongues of flame shooting up and climbing the steep walls of the cliffs on either side and surrounding everything in between. Princess Cristabel knew this was the signal and dug her spurs in and raced on forward.
Behind her, the beasts screeched in incensed pain and fury, their fiery breaths only increasing the conflagration. Volleys of blazing missiles followed the jets of fire, followed by another shower of flaming arrows. The winged beasts thrashed about and crashed into each other and the cliff faces and fell with terrible shrieks, catching alight, consumed in fire. The flames licking about their bodies and wings spread, adding fuel to the inferno spreading through the ravine until the night air and everything within it was engulfed in flames.
It was the fire-tipped arrows shot from Princess Beatrice’s bow which saved Princess Cristabel from the leader of the beasts, who flew at her in a vicious fury, and warded off the relentless skyborne attacks from the remainder of the winged host while the knights appeared and fought with the beasts who had not been felled by the swirling balls of fire and the burning poisonous stings of the archers.
When the fires had died down, burning themselves out in the darkness of the Sanguineto Ravine, the victors came down from the escarpment and proceeded to the other end of the pass, convening in a clearing near the entrance.
Sirs Thomas, Timothy, Lachlan and Benjamin formed a royal guard around the exhausted mare bearing Princess Cristabel—rider and horse both scorched, bleeding, and barely conscious—leading them out from the mouth of the ravine to join Princess Beatrice and the rest of the party who were setting up camp and assessing the aftermath of the battle.
‘Every beast dead and accounted for, your Highness,’ said Sir Thomas. ‘Everything has been reduced to ashes, except—’
‘Except for the captain,’ said Princess Cristabel in a voice that hardly reached a whisper. ‘Lothaire was injured but escaped—fled home to tell his masters presumably.’
Princess Beatrice took a small crystal vial which hung on a chain around her neck (a gift from the kind old apothecary, Prospero, who had thought it more practical and efficacious for the princess, who was prone to falling into all sorts of perilous scrapes, to be provided with a potent remedy close at hand) and allowed a droplet of crimson liquid from it to fall between her sister’s lips. She did the same for Princess Cristabel’s horse, Midnight. Both revived in colour and spirits.
‘That is for another night to think about,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘Dawn will be breaking soon. We need to—’
The rapid pounding of hooves approached from the direction of the capital.
The knights all raised their torches and drew out weapons.
‘Hold your fire! It is Sir Joshua,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘Your Highnesses,’ said Sir Joshua. ‘Princess Alexandra sends reinforcements. They follow shortly behind. His Majesty King Theobald has returned to the capital from the eastern front.’
‘I spoke too hastily. At dawn, we head for home,’ said Princess Beatrice.
Princess Alexandra rushed to embrace and scold her sisters fiercely the moment she saw them approach.
The king followed, looking upon his offspring with proud relief and affection.
‘You two are the scourge and terror of the land,’ said Princess Alexandra.
‘Not I. That honour goes to Beatrice,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘To the man or beast who underestimates her, beware.’
‘A decisive victory,’ said the king. ‘The capital kept safe and the kingdom spared a dreaded battle.’
‘We did what was necessary, father,’ said Princess Beatrice. ‘There was no pleasure or glory in it. Only mourning for fallen friends.’
As word of what was to become known as the Battle of Sanguineto Ravine spread through the land, King Theobald called for another council of war.
‘Sanguineto Ravine merely staved off the inevitable onslaught and carnage. The hunt for the beast is over, father,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘The beasts of the Black Mountain are hunting us.’
‘One battle over, another begins, and war continues on never ceasing,’ sighed the king.
‘Has the situation worsened on the eastern front, father?’ asked Princess Cristabel.
‘There is a temporary truce with Ossaia. King Arnulf is dying. His heir is coming to Trasimene to discuss terms for a peaceful alliance between Ossaia and Trasimene,’ said the king.
‘Peaceful alliance with Ossaia?’ said Princess Alexandra.
‘King Arnulf who raged against Trasimene with fire and sword, violence and plunder—his heir now wants an alliance with us?’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘The beasts of the Black Mountain have also attacked Ossaia,’ said the king. ‘There is bad blood between Ossaia and the Black Mountain kingdom. It was King Arnulf’s grandfather who tried to provoke war with the Black Mountain by killing its envoys. King Eldred of the Black Mountain refused to engage his kingdom in war with a king who worshipped bloodlust and closed off the Black Mountain from the human world henceforth.’
‘King Eldred seems far more civilised than Ossaia or the beasts we have recently been fighting,’ said Princess Alexandra. ‘I suppose this means he no longer rules the Black Mountain?’
‘It would seem so,’ said the king. ‘Every dawn has its dusk.’
‘Would it be impolitic to leave Ossaia and the beasts to fight among themselves? That would give them a distraction and leave the rest of the world in peace,’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘You distrust the offer of a peaceful alliance,’ said the king. ‘I believe the privy counsellors will be equally sceptical.’
‘Are you not suspicious of it, father?’ asked Princess Alexandra.
‘Whatever my suspicions are, I cannot ignore the fact that Trasimene alone is not strong enough to stand against the beasts of the Black Mountain,’ said the king.
Crown Prince Xavier, heir to the kingdom of Ossaia, arrived in the capital of Trasimene with stately pomp and ceremony. He and his entourage were greeted by King Theobald and welcomed to the royal court.
The prince was a prepossessing young man, handsome, charming and elegant in figure, face and address where his father was remembered as being ruthless, foul-tempered and barbaric. Prince Xavier desired that past hostilities between Trasimene and Ossaia be set aside in pursuit of their kingdoms’ mutual interest in rebuffing the incursions of the beasts of the Black Mountain. The prince hoped to advance a friendship between the two kingdoms of Trasimene and Ossaia under his reign. As a gesture of good faith, the prince offered his hand in marriage to King Theobald’s eldest daughter—and the throne of Ossaia for his future queen.
‘He is King Arnulf’s son and heir,’ said the three princesses.
‘I am not my father,’ said Prince Xavier.
‘We should try to judge Prince Xavier fair-mindedly,’ said Princess Alexandra. ‘King Arnulf ruled Ossaia as a tyrant but Prince Xavier cannot be held responsible for all of his father’s deeds.’
‘Nothing has ever stopped Beatrice from doing what she thought was right,’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘Nevertheless, if it is the condition for Trasimene to be defended and safe from the beasts of the Black Mountain, I will accept Prince Xavier’s hand,’ said Princess Alexandra.
‘Alexandra!’ cried her royal sisters.
‘Alexandra,’ said the king. ‘You need not marry Prince Xavier if you do not desire it.’
‘My sisters did what they thought was necessary to save the kingdom. And now, so must I,’ said Princess Alexandra. ‘It is my duty.’
The royal betrothal between Princess Alexandra of Trasimene and Prince Xavier of Ossaia was announced across the two kingdoms. Preparations for the wedding began alongside the preparations for a joint defence against the beasts of the Black Mountain.
‘Father and his counsellors are still wary of Ossaia, if not of Prince Xavier,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘Villages continue to be menaced in the kingdom but we cannot be certain if these attacks are the responsibility of the beasts of the Black Mountain or the soldiers of Ossaia. Father has reinstated the custom that no foreign consort marrying into our kingdom shall ever rule Trasimene as king or queen.’
‘Will that be enough?’ asked Princess Beatrice.
The betrothal celebrations were interrupted by news of a wild boar rampaging through the forest near the abbey of Ermengard. Prince Xavier declared a hunt for the wild boar which he would find and present as a prize for the wedding feast.
But the morning of the wild boar hunt brought unexpected tragedy. Prince Xavier, Princess Alexandra, the noble lords and ladies and courtiers of the royal court and their squires had set out early, riding into the forest near the abbey of Ermengard in search of the wild boar. Princess Alexandra had stopped in a forest glade, dropping away from the rest of the hunting party, and was bitten by an adder. Her lifeless body was brought back to the castle at the same time that a messenger arrived from the north with fresh reports of attacks by the beasts of the Black Mountain.
‘What was Alexandra doing in the forest that she should step on an adder?’ said Princess Beatrice through her tears. ‘I did not think there were any snakes in the forest, at least not at this time of the year.’
Princess Cristabel embraced her sister but said nothing.
A year passed in continual unrest and battles with the beasts of the Black Mountain.
Grief over the death of Princess Alexandra had driven King Theobald to consult a sage passing through the kingdom of Trasimene reputed to be an oracle. The oracle had spoken to the king of a jewel in the Black Mountain which had the power to protect a kingdom. Before the king could ask about how to obtain this jewel, the oracle vanished. The king sent his subjects far and wide but they searched vainly for the oracle and further knowledge about the magical jewel.
Noting the burgeoning questions and dissent among his own subjects regarding the solidity of the alliance between Ossaia and Trasimene, Prince Xavier returned to the capital of Trasimene and renewed his suit to the eldest daughter of King Theobald.
‘Oh, Cristabel!’ said Princess Beatrice.
The grieving king was in no mood to listen to the prince’s proposal.
‘I, too, grieve deeply, your Majesty, but I must do my duty by my subjects,’ said Prince Xavier. ‘The beasts of the Black Mountain thunder at our gates.’
‘I will accept Prince Xavier’s offer,’ said Princess Cristabel.
The king pressed his daughter to reconsider her decision.
‘I will do my duty,’ said Princess Cristabel.
On the evening that the royal betrothal between Princess Cristabel of Trasimene and Prince Xavier of Ossaia was announced, Princess Cristabel left her ladies-in-waiting and went alone to the royal treasury where Princess Beatrice, dressed in plain travelling attire and armed with her sword, bow and quiver of arrows, and the Keeper of the Crown Jewels were conversing in low conspiratorial voices.
‘Good evening, Clotaire,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘May I please have a word with my sister before she leaves?’
The Keeper of the Crown Jewels bowed and withdrew.
‘How did you know?’ asked Princess Beatrice.
‘You have been quiet all day. It is a sign of your mind meditating mischief,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘And you are my sister, Beatrice, the Recalcitrant One.’
‘It is the only thing I can think of to help,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘The confounded oracle and her riddles,’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘The oracle never said you had to wed the crown prince of Ossaia,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘We all have our duties to discharge,’ said Princess Cristabel.
Princess Cristabel pressed a purse, a wrapped parcel of bread and cheese, and a sheathed dagger into her sister’s hands.
‘I can no more prevent you from going on this quest than others have ever persuaded you from any of your schemes,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘But please, Beatrice, promise that you will return safely to us, with or without the jewel.’
‘I will try,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘I will tell Prince Xavier that I shall wed him the day you return,’ said Princess Cristabel.
‘Well,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘Go—hurry now—and hurry back,’ said Princess Cristabel. ‘The betrothal festivities tonight will provide a diversion and give you more time before your absence is noticed. I will explain to father.’
Princess Beatrice kissed her sister, then drew back the corner of a large wall tapestry, pressed a hidden panel and entered the secret passage within. She came out of another secret door into the royal library, crossed the floor to a door leading to a corridor which took her via the night stairwell into the castle’s walled vegetable garden. Leaving the walled garden, she continued along a connecting cloister until she arrived before the postern gate of the abbey of Ermengard. She rang the bell.
The peephole hatch in the wooden door slid open.
‘The night is dark. I have lost my way. I seek sanctuary,’ said Princess Beatrice.
The hatch closed. Bolts were drawn, then the wooden gate door opened.
‘Sister Beatrice,’ said the gatekeeper. ‘I am Sister Gwendolyn. Please follow me.’
The nun led the princess through the lane, along a cloister, through the abbey grounds, passing a series of indoor chapels, rose and herb gardens, through several interconnecting cloisters, past the hospice lawn, over a little stone bridge, past a gate and through the walled churchyard.
‘The Reverend Mother sends her prayers,’ said Sister Gwendolyn. ‘Thunderbolt is waiting outside the gate.’
Princess Beatrice thanked the nun and slipped out of the churchyard. She found Thunderbolt, saddled and readied with supplies, obediently waiting next to the churchyard wall. Princess Beatrice untied the reins, mounted the horse and quietly led him away from the abbey and into the dark forest.