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The one-eyed gargoyle came towards the abbey of Ermengard at the edge of the dark forest to stand before the princess.
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‘SO MELCHIOR AND BEATRICE were actually friends?’ asked the mill owner’s daughter.
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‘YOU LIED,’ SAID PRINCESS Beatrice.
‘As did you,’ said the beast.
‘I did not,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘You did, by word and by omission, princess,’ said the beast.
‘White lies do not count,’ said Princess Beatrice, repeating a childhood catechism. ‘And I kept my promise.’
‘So did I,’ said the beast.
The princess drew out the chain around her neck from which hung the crystal vial and the intricately wrought setting which held in its golden claws the clear jewel that the beast had entrusted to her in the dungeons of the Black Mountain. She took the jewel off her necklace and held it out to the beast.
‘The possessor of this jewel was meant to have the power to protect their kingdom,’ said the princess.
‘And so it has,’ said the beast, accepting the return of the jewel.
‘I returned from the Black Mountain to this kingdom and three years of war and death and strife,’ said the princess. ‘How did it protect Trasimene?’
‘You did,’ said the beast. ‘The power lay with the possessor, not in the jewel.’
‘But the oracle,’ said the princess.
‘Oracles can be wrong—or inaccurate—or influenced,’ said the beast. ‘The Black Mountain’s late king was deceived by a traitorous oracle.’
‘I am sorry for the sorrows that your family and kingdom have endured,’ said the princess.
‘As am I for yours,’ said the beast.
‘Is the Lord High Chancellor dead then?’ asked the princess.
‘Yes,’ said the beast.
‘Did you kill him?’ asked the princess.
‘Lord Godric and his followers were tried and executed for their treason,’ said the beast. ‘They were given swift deaths, another kindness they had denied to their victims.’
‘I wondered what befell you when you sent me away,’ said the princess. ‘I disliked very much what you asked of me.’
‘I know,’ said the beast. ‘Godric boasted of the unfortunate ambush which had met the party of humans sent from Trasimene to find the one-eyed beast of the Black Mountain. I am sorry about the fate of your men.’
‘One of the knights survived. He was saved by a gargoyle,’ said the princess. ‘Ought I to address you now as your Majesty?’
‘You may address me as Melchior,’ replied the beast. ‘I remain a prince. A coronation is less important than unfinished business.’
‘Involving the jewel?’ asked the princess.
‘Yes, the jewel is important,’ said the beast.
‘How?’ asked the princess.
‘The jewel is the birthstone of the royal family, passing from one generation to the next, possessed by the ruler or the heir to the Black Mountain kingdom. This stone was passed to me by my cousin Balthazar as he lay choking on his own blood from the poisoned lamprey at his wedding feast, the last member of the royal family murdered by Caspar and his scheming henchmen,’ said the beast.
‘Was that when you hid the jewel in the tree?’ asked the princess.
‘Yes. The jewel is enchanted. It only answers to those true and loyal to the kingdom of the Black Mountain. Caspar murdered those he thought obstructed his path to the throne. He did not realise that royal bloodlines did not guarantee him a crown,’ said the beast. ‘He should have consulted a better oracle.’
‘His plan does seem rather poorly thought out,’ said the princess.
‘His ambition overcame his reason,’ said the beast. ‘And he had poor counsellors, each serving their own interests. By the time Caspar understood the truth, I was the only relation he had left who could retrieve the jewel.’
‘Is that why you were kept alive?’ asked the princess.
‘Caspar believed that by possessing the jewel, he would finally have command of the kingdom. He wanted my allegiance and the jewel to justify and legitimise his pretension to the throne. And to silence any doubts, opposition or rebellion,’ said the beast. ‘He was displeased when I failed to oblige.’
‘But you gave the jewel to my keeping,’ exclaimed the princess.
‘Yes,’ said the beast.
‘I was not true or loyal to your kingdom,’ cried the princess. ‘A stranger! A foreigner to—’
‘A mere human girl who managed to find a way into the hidden, magically fortified kingdom of the Black Mountain. A tiny foolhardy thing who ran voluntarily into the arena where all the monsters prowled,’ said the beast.
‘I was born reckless,’ said the princess, repeating a childhood catechism. ‘But you—’
‘The jewel was colourless when I placed it in your hand,’ said the beast. ‘Have you ever seen it change colour?’
‘No,’ said the princess.
‘That is because the jewel recognises other qualities besides loyalty to the kingdom of the Black Mountain,’ said the beast. ‘Qualities such as kindness. Valour. Purity of heart. Caspar could not have ruled the kingdom even if he had found the jewel.’
The beast brought the jewel to his chest. It glowed deeply for a moment, like a heart of black fire, then vanished.
The princess stared in astonishment.
‘It is hidden in a safe place,’ said the beast.
‘Are things put to rights now in your kingdom?’ asked the princess.
‘Unfinished business remains,’ the beast reminded her. ‘But there is less of it since the small trickle of resistance grew into an uprising against the lawless reign. Godric could not silence all the whispers spreading throughout the land about the human girl who felled the great tyrant Caspar with her slingshot.’
‘You lied to me,’ said the princess. ‘I would not have left otherwise.’
‘I know,’ said the beast.
‘How did it all come to pass?’ asked the princess.
‘The late King Eldred was a noble and pacific ruler,’ said the beast. ‘Half score years ago, when emissaries from another human kingdom arrived offering peaceful alliance, the king’s counsellors urged him to accept the treaty and the tributes which came with it. The king had misgivings and remained undecided for a long time. Eventually, he went to consult an oracle. The oracle told the king that peace and prosperity would arise from an alliance between the two kingdoms. So the old king quelled his doubts and accepted the treaty. But Caspar and Godric were among the false counsellors in favour of the treaty. It was they who had brought the foreign emissaries to the Black Mountain, they who had bribed the oracle and later slay her when her usefulness passed. The kingdom suffered for Caspar’s ambition. The kingdoms surrounding the Black Mountain also suffered under his reign. King Eldred would not have allowed such injustices to his neighbours.’
‘From which kingdom did the foreign emissaries come?’ asked the princess.
‘The kingdom of Ossaia,’ replied the beast.
‘I see,’ said the princess. ‘Unfinished business.’
‘Yes,’ said the beast. I am sorry to be the bearer of unhappy tidings.’
The princess was silent, thinking of her dead sisters. Her kind, valiant eldest sister, Princess Alexandra, who had died from an adder’s bite while out on a wild boar hunt. Her brave and clever second sister, Princess Cristabel, who had died from a riding accident, thrown from her horse on an expedition against the rampaging beasts of the Black Mountain. Each sister had, in turn, been courted by Prince Xavier and had died after becoming formally betrothed to the prince. And her sister Cristabel’s loyal mare, Midnight, vanished without a trace, maligned in death as a coward...
‘How did you find out the guilt of the conspirators against your kingdom?’ asked the princess.
‘They were careful in the beginning to hide their treason from the king and those loyal to the king,’ said the beast. ‘Afterwards, when they had slain or imprisoned the loyal and just in the realm, they became careless or simply did not care who witnessed their greed and cruelty. Those who could not be bought, intimidated or coerced, those who stood in their way, were crushed.’
‘Before our kingdoms joined together in defence against the beasts of the Black Mountain, Trasimene and Ossaia were enemies,’ said the princess. ‘It was a truce and alliance born of desperate expedience rather than trust. Even during the alliance, my father, the king, and my sisters heard rumours of hostile incursions against our people but it was always blamed on the beasts of the Black Mountain. My sisters were independent, brought up to be queens of Trasimene in their own right. My father’s uneasiness with the alliance with Ossaia caused him to reinforce the tradition, as a safeguard, that a foreign consort marrying into our royal household could never rule Trasimene as king.’
Princess Beatrice sighed.
‘My sisters both died shortly after becoming betrothed to Prince Xavier,’ said the princess. ‘I believe less and less that their deaths, and those of others, were accidents.’
‘Then you probably come near the truth,’ said the beast.
‘And while my father or I live, Prince Xavier could never be king,’ said Princess Beatrice.
‘Xavier wants your crown, princess,’ said the beast.
‘And perhaps your jewel too,’ said the princess.
‘Yes,’ said the beast. ‘I believe he does.’
‘It is said that you killed and destroyed in indiscriminate and unbridled haste on your way here,’ said the princess.
‘Do you believe all the tales told about me—especially the ones spread by Ossaia?’ asked the beast.
‘Many do,’ said the princess.
‘Such things are slow to change,’ said the beast.
‘You should return to your kingdom,’ said the princess. ‘It is not safe.’
‘I have unfinished business here,’ said the beast.
‘This is not your battle,’ said the princess.
‘Neither was Caspar yours,’ replied the beast.
‘This is different,’ said the princess.
‘Is it?’ said the beast.
‘Prince Xavier leads an entire army,’ said the princess.
‘Look up to the belfry and rooftops, Beatrice,’ said the beast. ‘You are not alone.’