Chapter XVI: Human again

The transformation of Herrikhan
Copyright © Jeffrey K. Bedrick 1996.
Used with permission.

I wandered endlessly in my castle, trying to remember something, but my mind was empty of memories. What happened to me? I shouldn't have needed so long a time to recognise Sevulf as I did and now, I wasn't even able to recognise my own castle! I ended up in a room which I supposed to be mine. On the wall, there was several portraits of girls. Most of them were unknown to me. I recognised the last one, because it was the one of the impolite girl. Above the line of portraits, there was the one of Rose Line. At least, I understood its presence, even if I secretly thought it hadn't its place here.
I remained a long time in front of those portraits. It quickly became obvious to me that the same hand had painted all of them, except Rose Line's, but then, the dates written under each painting made it impossible. I wondered a moment if the portraits weren't those of the previous ladies of the country, but Beauty's hadn't had its place. I stared lengthily at this one, forgetting all about Rose Line's. The more I looked at it, the more I knew that the artist was deeply in love with the girl. No one else but a lover could have painted so well all the details, could have made it so vivid. I thought of the monster whose body she had cried over, but such an hideous creature, so clumsy, could never have painted this beautiful portrait.
I took a better look at the painting and then, I noticed, in the bottom right hand corner, a small sign I knew only too well, since it was the one I used as a signature at the end of my letters. I looked quickly at the others portraits and they all had the sign, except, once again, Rose Line's. I sat in my favourite armchair, trying to think clearly. Something was terribly wrong somewhere. If I was the one having created those portraits, I was quite good at it and it seemed strange to me that I hadn't done Rose Line's, when I had been able to do Beauty's so beautifully.
Then there was the fact that the creator of Beauty's portrait was deeply in love with her and this man had to be me; if not, what would do this painting in my room, with my signature on it? I didn't remember having painting it, but then, I almost hadn't recognised Sevulf and all was so strange to me. I felt quite clumsy and I acted as if I was used to a greater strength than mine. I took one last glance at Beauty's portrait; I noticed the gold necklace she wore, the same as Sirli's, and this necklace was familiar to me.
I knew, I was sure, that this girl, so impolite and so rude - but so in love with her monster - was the key of the whole story. I had to find her, so she would explain everything to me. For, if I was in love with her, how could I be engaged to Rose Line? And, vice-versa, if I was engaged to Rose Line, I was in love with her, so how could I have painted such a portrait of another girl? I couldn't decently marry Rose Line with such uncertainty! I had to talk to the fairy.
I went out my rooms and met Sevulf almost instantly. The eyes of the old butler were rimmed with red and he said with a broken voice:
"Geolf is dead, master."
"Dead? How's that, dead?" I replied, frowning.
"I... I think he killed himself. With a hunting knife."
It was painful for Sevulf to speak of my cook's death, but I had to know.
"It's absurd! Why would Geolf have committed suicide? And with a hunting knife! Try to find the person this knife belongs to."
All my servants were sad and some of them, Gilla and Fiona, were weeping openly. They were quite often in the kitchen, with Geolf and they were probably his closest friends. I was myself sad, for, in spite of what Beauty had said, I wasn't this vain and I had always considered my people more like companions than servants. Then I thought it was the perfect occasion to delay my wedding with Rose Line: everybody was sad because of Geolf's death and so was I. My cook had never been very sociable, but he was loveable, like a big teddy bear. So I called on Rose Line's godmother. The fairy appeared almost instantly before my eyes.
"What can I do for you?" she asked me with her slight smile.
"Everybody here is mourning for Geolf's death. I don't want to get married in such circumstances. I want my wedding day to be a happy day for all my people. I think Rose Line will perfectly understand my reluctance to wed her while mourning."
The fairy's brow became furrowed with reflection.
"Perhaps you're right," she admitted at last. "However, Rose Line will be so disappointed to delay our wedding!"
"So am I," I said "but it would not be decent."
The fairy left and I remained alone, happy without knowing why that this wedding wouldn't be in the next days. I was still free!
My mind now free of this problem, I wandered in my gardens. I felt it confusedly, someone else was missing. Then, I remembered: Raynal. Where was my cousin? Never had he left me this way; he was probably in the gardens, not knowing Geolf's death. As I was already looking for Beauty, I thought I could look for him as well.
I found her with an incredible chance. She was kneeling in front of a grave and praying. Her voice was filled with tears she was proudly holding back, but my ear was sharp and I heard the chokes. She murmured something and then, extending her hand toward another grave I hadn't seen till then, she said softly:
"Now you're together, reunited by death. May you be happy forever, and free."
She stood up and froze as soon as she saw me. I put my hand on her shoulder.
"Please don't fear me, Beauty!" I said.
Her eyes went wild and she jerked free.
"Don't touch me, ever!" she said fiercely.
Curiously, I asked:
"Were you acting this way with him?"
There was no need to specify who was the 'him'. It was obvious for both of us.
"Yes, I was. But he never tried to touch me, for he was afraid I would be repulsed by his appearance. At the beginning, he was right, but at the end, he was wrong. I tried to make him understand, but I managed it only too late. But if now, he was coming out from this very grave, claiming me as his even beyond death, I would follow him instantly."
"Whose grave is the other one?" I asked, quite curious.
"Raynal, my lord. He's dead for quite a long time now, but he never really abandoned us. I think that now, he's free and won't come again. I'll miss him."
"Raynal?" I started. "Dead? Oh, God! Two deaths in one day, that's a bit too much for me! Do you know what happened to Geolf? I mean... do you know Geolf? No, surely not, he was much too shy for that..."
"I knew Geolf quite well, my lord, and he was almost like my brother. His death is very painful for me too, but I suffered a greater loss today and I'm afraid I forgot a bit to mourn him," she said, a bit ashamed.
"I think he will understand," I replied gently.
I didn't know why I was so polite with this girl who had all but cursed me, but then, she was most probably holding the key of my memory.
"Beauty, I know I've been more than rude with you, but... but I need you... I need you to explain everything to me. I don't understand what's happening."
She looked at me with a serious gaze and sighed.
"I can't explain you much, my lord, for I don't have the right. Ask Shuqra; she knows what she can tell you more than I do. But perhaps I can answer some of your questions."
"Have you seen the portraits gallery?" I asked.
"Yes, I have," she said, nodding.
"Who painted them? I have to know!"
"It's him, my lord," she answered simply.
"But each portrait wears my signature!"
"I know. What do you conclude?"
"That he and I are somehow linked together. Have you seen the last portrait?"
"Melanie's?"
"No, yours."
"Mine? No, I didn't know he had painted my portrait."
"It's very vivid, very beautiful. The man who painted it was deeply in love with you."
She understood at once what I was half-asking and she shook the head.
"No, my lord, you don't love me. You love a gentle girl, with no will and waiting for you to tell her what she must think. That's who you love! And, you can trust me on that, I'm none of that."
"By the gentle girl, I suppose you mean Rose Line? I thought you hated her."
"I hate her. I never saw her but I hate her nonetheless. Tell me, my lord, do you really love her?"
I remained silent a moment and then I said.
"I don't know. Frankly, I never thought I could marry her. I've never been interested in girls, only in roses, and Rose Line is most probably the last one I would have courted."
I didn't really know why I said that, but I realised, as soon as I had said it, that it was the truth. I didn't love Rose Line and, if Sevulf hadn't told me I was engaged to her, I wouldn't have known it. But I didn't say it to Beauty.
"I hope you will be happy with her, my lord," said Beauty, stepping back. "Will you allow me to come sometimes, to pray on his tomb?"
"Of course, Beauty. If your portrait is in the gallery, it means you have your place in that castle."
"No, my lord. I don't have this place anymore. I lost everything with him. Oh, and for Geolf's death, ask Shuqra what to do. I think her advice will be good. Fare you well, my lord, and please forgive me for having been so rude with you at our first encounter."
"No, it was I who..."
But Beauty had already disappeared.

I continued to wander in my gardens, the mind totally empty. Slowly the understanding came to me and, with the understanding, the pain. Raynal was dead. My cousin, my faithful friend, my accomplice since we were children. The sorrow was overwhelming me and, in a pitiful try to forget it for a while, I went back to my roses gardens, trying to absorb myself in the discoveries of all the new species having grown in my gardens by a miracle.
In the middle of them all, surrounded by bushes red and white, was the black rose tree. But the desire to have a black rose had left me and I felt almost angry when I saw it. Wasn't it the cause of my marriage with Rose Line? Hadn't I had this stupid desire to create this rose, never would I have got engaged to Rose Line.
I spent two hours in my garden, enchanted by all the wonders I discovered, but then, I noticed that one specie was missing, one I had created a long time ago - the very first one I had created, in fact - and this absence was quite difficult to understand: it was the blue rose. It would have had its place among the others and I particularly liked alleys bordered by yellow and blue roses. It would be a distraction to Raynal's and Geolf's deaths.
Coming back toward my castle, I remembered Beauty's last advice. I wasn't sure Shuqra would answer me for such a question, but my goddess did actually answer! She was very sad and said softly:
"Thou art certainly sad, child, because Geolf was someone worthy of thy sorrow. But he's dead now and he chose his own death. Yes, thou art right, he didn't commit suicide. Someone killed him. Geolf could have escaped the knife but he chose to receive it and he would have thanked his murderer if he could have done it. So don't try to punish his murderer."
"But, Shuqra, this man killed one of my people!" I protested.
"I know, child, but believe me, this man is now punished far more than thou couldst punish him. By killing Geolf, he has lost everything he loved and is now like a soulless body. Death would be a deliverance for him."
I nodded and Shuqra's presence faded out.
I went back in my rooms and, on the floor, I noticed immediately something I hadn't seen before: large tracks on the parquet ground, as if done by powerful claws. I instantly thought of the monster I had seen in the living room with Beauty. The monster had lived in my rooms as if in his and, after some inquiries, I found more proofs of his presence: lots of hairs on my favourite armchair, on the bed... What surprised me more was that all those hairs couldn't be his: some of them were of a silver white. Perhaps he had had some animals with him, but which animal would have accepted to live near such a monster? I smiled quite bitterly: Beauty had accepted to live near him and had even grown to love him. Why couldn't an animal have done the same?
But what tortured me more was: how had he managed in taking my place? Then I thought of a famous fairy tale, where a princess and her whole castle fell asleep for one hundred years. Had he done the same? His death would have freed us and this would explain the dates under the portraits. But then, there was the problem of Rose Line: I knew her before that and she ought to be dead by now, if the monster had captured us for one hundred years or more. But was it really before? Had I met Rose Line before the enchantment or after? I growled miserably, my head menacing to explode before all those contradictions. I finally decided that, with the fairy in the competition, Rose Line could perfectly be three hundred years old for all I knew. The fairy probably had this power.
I sighed and sat on my bed. I was totally unable to explain this strange reluctance I felt toward the fairy. Rose Line was my betrothed and yet, I mistrusted the fairy, as if she was an old enemy. I smiled bitterly: the fairy was probably old, but I wasn't that old. My life was still before me and I swore to myself I wouldn't let anybody force me to do something I didn't want to do. It was my life and it seemed to me I had won the right to lead it at my convenience and that I had had to fight hard for this. It was of course a stupid impression, but I couldn't drive it away.

I left my rooms and met Stoat almost immediately. I watched her carefully; she had the age of being my mother, but, to my eyes, Stoat had always been the most beautiful woman - most probably because I was totally unable to look at the other ones. But now, after having seen Beauty's freshness, I almost only saw her wrinkles, good wrinkles marking her brow, the corners of her mouth and of her eyes.
"What do you want, little one?" she asked me gently.
I remained silent a moment, admiring her movements so graceful, the way she had to hold her head like a queen and the serious gaze she had for everyone. I hoped that my future wife would have something of Stoat.
"I'll go in town to see Chyraz's priest," I announced. "Do you need something, Stoat?"
"No, thank you, little one," she said, smiling.
I smiled back and I left her to go to the stables. Eponerius was there, as usual. Big and strong, he was also almost as shy as Geolf and didn't like very much to leave his stables. He was probably more at ease with the horses than with the humans. I couldn't really blame him for this, since I preferred myself the roses to my kin's company.
My horse was ready but I didn't leave the castle at once, for I saw a preoccupied look on Eponerius' face.
"What's the matter, Eponerius?" I finally asked, knowing perfectly that he wouldn't dare to tell me his problem.
"It's one of the horses, master," he said.
He showed me the horse and I saw, on its rump, five red lines, quite deep, as if a wild animal had clawed it. But the width of the mark almost made it impossible, until I thought of Beauty's monster. He could have done that and I felt my blood running wild in my veins at that idea. I felt I was able to hate this monster, even if he was dead by now.
"Don't worry, Eponerius. I'm going to town and I'll fetch a priest who can heal it. I don't think it's that serious."
"Of course, master, but the poor beast is totally disturbed and she's afraid when I approach her."
Eponerius had always spoken of his horses as if they were humans and I smiled slightly.
"It will be alright, Eponerius," I repeated.
I mounted and left the castle.
The townsmen seemed quite surprised to see me and the most surprised was certainly a young man with brown hair, who left the square almost running as soon as he saw me. Chyraz's priest came out of his temple, informed by a little boy that his lord was coming. The priest was a young smiling man, a man I had never seen before, as, for my part, I recalled an old stooped priest with white hair.
"Welcome, my lord," said the young priest with a friendly tone. "My name's Fra Vestris."
"Thank you, father. First of all, one of my horses has been injured by a wild beast and I would know if there was someone here able to heal it."
The priest looked at the little boy standing next to him and said:
"Go to fetch the green witch. She's either with Jerry and the forestry workers or with Alara."
The little boy nodded and left running with all the speed of his legs.
"And then, my lord?"
"Who is this green witch?" I asked, quite surprised, for I hadn't heard of her.
"She's a common girl, but her talent is surprising. She's quite shy, so I would beg you not to frighten her. Ah! I think she's coming. She must have been with Alara."
I turned on my heels and I saw two silhouettes running toward us.
"She's running?" I said, half shocked.
"Yes, my lord. She knows the boy likes to run and she doesn't feel that it's under her condition to run with him if it can give him some joy," answered Fra Vestris with a quite reproachful tone.
I had the grace to redden a bit and then, my eyes widened when I recognised the girl: it was Beauty. She recognised me at once too and her pace slowed down as she came nearer. The little boy reached Fra Vestris before her and exclaimed joyfully:
"I won, Beauty! Did you see? I beat you this time!"
Beauty shivered from head to toes and had a forced smile.
"Yes, little one, I saw. You're getting stronger with each day passing by and soon, I won't be able anymore to follow you."
The little boy was very proud to hear her words and smiled happily. Beauty turned to me.
"My lord," she said questioningly.
"I need your green witch's talents," I answered coldly, not willing to let Fra Vestris know that I already knew her.
She nodded and didn't ask any other question.
"Then, father, I would like to speak with you, something like tomorrow."
"Gladly, my lord. A believer of Chyraz is always interested in approaching Shuqra's ones," he retorted with a light smile.
I took my leave of him and, as I was mounting, I heard Beauty whispering to Fra Vestris:
"Please prevent Tiger to do any foolishness, father! I'm sure he saw him and I'm afraid of what he can do!"
"Don't worry, child, I'll take care of that. What about Jod?"
Beauty sighed.
"Nothing to do, father. Jerry told me he left the town."
"Where will you live, now?"
She shrugged.
"I don't know. That's not very important. I know Jerry's house can be mine if I ask for it and if I found nothing, I still can come here to ask for a refuge, can't I?"
"You know you're always welcome in this temple, child," Fra Vestris said gravely.
"Don't look at me with those eyes, father," she scolded him in a weary tone.
She turned her back to him and looked at me.
"Go ahead, my lord. I don't have any horse, so it will take me longer to reach the castle. Don't wait for me."
"Oh, you can ride pillion if you want it so," I said lightly.
I saw her shivering and I remembered, a bit late, that she feared the contact. I was about to correct what I had just said when the look in her eyes prevented me from doing it.
"My lord, you will shock half the town if you do so," she said severely. "Everybody will think of the fairy tales, where the prince takes the shepherdess on his white horse. It's out of question! You can't risk your reputation just for a question of speed."
"And your reputation?" I answered quite surprised - and angry - by this answer.
She had a bitter grin and retorted with a harsh voice:
"Nobody cares about my reputation, my lord, especially the people of this town! I could have fifteen children, all of unknown father, nobody would bat an eyelid!"
I didn't know why, this sentence had a familiar echo to me, but it was impossible, of course: how could I have heard it before? I never had this conversation with Beauty before, hadn't I?
"If thou knowest how to ride, thou canst take my horse, child," said Fra Vestris and it amused me to hear him change his way of talking just for the gallery.
Beauty accepted the priest's horse and followed me to the castle. She examined the wound and nodded silently. Then, feeling my impatience, and Eponerius' curiosity, she said:
"It's nothing. Eponerius could have treated it by himself without a single problem."
"Any idea on the person who did that?" I asked and my tone was enough to suggest I already had my own idea on the subject.
She stared at me straight in the eyes and half-curled her lips on a disdainful smile.
"No, my lord, he's not guilty."
"Why are you so sure of that?"
"Because I've already seen the marks of his claws. Let me tell you the story, before you think I'm only trying to defend his memory. I was attacked by four boars and he rescued me by clawing them to death. I agree it can seem a bit wild, but he had some problems of control when somebody or something was menacing me."
"That's something understandable. I mean... you look like someone one naturally wants to protect."
"I already told you, my lord, I'm not that kind of person. I'm not a fragile little girl with long blond hair and crystal blue eyes, sending a vapid smile to every young man susceptible to be her Prince Charming. I want to stand on my own!"
Her tone was no more a polite tone, but rather an angry one. I looked carefully at her and nodded slowly.
"Yes, I really think you're like that. And that's for the better."
She shrugged and turned the heels, closing her fingers on her horse's reins.
"Oh, by the way, my lord, it's time for you to remember how to use your magic. This way, you will know who is really guilty for the wound to your horse. And I'm sure you'll discover it's not him, since the marks don't correspond."
"How's that, they don't correspond?"
"Well, you see, the mark corresponding to the thumb should be more on the left and absolutely not parallel to the other ones. No, my lord, believe me, those marks were not done by a wild animal. They were made by a human being trying to accuse someone else. And I have a very good idea on the guilty person, but you'll have to find it by yourself: you wouldn't believe me otherwise. But let me tell you that this person is trying to make you hate a dead person, whose only default was to look like a Beast. Farewell, my lord, and remember: try to find back your magic, so you'll find the truth."
She smiled to Eponerius as if she knew him for a long time and mounted with a surprising grace: normally, knowing her condition, she wouldn't have learnt how to ride, but she knew, and quite well. I remained where I stood, frozen, this idea turning in my head: I had had the magic. I had been a magician and I even didn't remember it. I had to talk again with Shuqra, if she accepted it.