CHAPTER 9
Forte and Fife raced out of the music room, taking their bloodstained makeshift weapons with them. They headed down the corridor and reached the stairs, climbing them as fast as they could. When they got to the level above the one they had just come from, they paused. Raised voices could be heard from behind a closed door at the end of the corridor, and the two composers wasted no time in reaching it. Crouching against the door, they listened.
'… but – but what about the claws and the fangs and the fur –' one voice was saying, but Forte did not recognise who it belonged to.
'I told you, there is no beast! It's me!' replied another voice, which Forte recognised as Adam's. 'We – we should talk about this…'
'I don't wanna talk!' said a third voice, this one being LeFou's, 'Gaston was my best friend!'
'Friend? He acted like your boss. How can you call him a friend after the way he treated you?' asked a fourth voice. This one sounded incredulous, yet, at the same time, it remained gentle. Belle. Thank God she was alright. 'It makes me wonder how you can remain loyal to such a conceited, arrogant –'
'Quiet, you!' growled the first voice, 'don't insult Gaston!' Belle whimpered.
'Hey, don't speak to her like that!' shouted Adam angrily, 'what's your name… Jacques, is it? Just you wait until I get my hands on you –'
Another man guffawed from somewhere else in the room. How many of them were there? 'You won't be doing that in a hurry, pal!'
'Just – let – us – go!' Adam seemed to be struggling against something. It suddenly became clear to Forte that Adam and Belle were being restrained.
'LeFou, just hear me out,' said Belle. There was a pause, and then she continued, 'I know you looked up to him, and practically the whole village regarded him as some sort of hero – but in reality, Gaston was boastful, vain and selfish. He thought about himself and only himself, not caring who got hurt as long as he got what he wanted. And look at the way he treated you. Before I came here I saw what he was like towards you. Whenever you made a comment or a joke, he'd shout at you or hit you, and often both. How can you still think of him as a friend? How did you manage to convince yourself that he was a friend to you in the first place?'
There was a silence. Forte had never actually seen this Gaston person, but he had heard a great deal about him and his sidekick, both before the enchantment and after it, but the latter more so. He had heard about his boorish, rude mannerisms and his treatment of those he thought lower than him. He had been told about how shallow he was, choosing Belle to be his bride just because of her looks. He knew about how sexist he was, and Belle herself had told him a couple of weeks ago how Gaston believed that women were only good for being wives and mothers, and had dreamt of having six or seven sons with her.
Forte shuddered at the thought. Women like Belle deserved better than being stuck with men like Gaston. He had been the complete opposite of the beast, and they were both proof that looks weren't everything. Gaston had obviously been handsome on the outside but ugly on the inside. Those who looked at him from a distance would see him as the best, as the local hero. But once one got to know him, he was indeed every bit as arrogant and conceited as Belle had said. Belle had been right about another thing, too: Gaston would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, to ensure his own happiness.
The beast, on the other hand, had been ugly on the outside – yet, Forte had to admit, he had a good heart deep down. His appearance and hot temper may have frightened others, but on the inside, he was a young, insecure man in his twenties, struggling to overcome his hideous exterior. He was a gentleman and he had changed. He thought back to the conversation he had had with the master. Belle brought out the best in me. How true. Since Belle had arrived at the castle, his savage ways had improved and had become more disciplined and refined. No matter how much Forte had tried to manipulate him into destroying the rose near Christmas last year, he could not do it because it was Belle's gift that had prompted him to stop. He would do anything to ensure Belle's happiness and had wanted to protect her at all costs.
A sudden scream broke him out of his thoughts.
'No! Adam!' cried Belle. Forte heard a smash, then someone dropped to the floor. Belle and Adam were in trouble.
Forte got up, Fife beside him, and forcefully turned the brass handle of the door. However, something was jammed against the other side. All movement within the room ceased, as though the people inside it sensed someone was coming.
'Fife – Fife, help me open this blasted door!' growled Forte, impatient to enter the room. Together, they pushed the door, but it would not budge. Mustering all his strength, Forte slammed his shoulder against the wood. The object on the other side of the door came away and the door burst open.
They had entered the master bedroom of the palace. It was a good sized, rectangular room, with turquoise walls and a wooden floor. A queen size four-poster bed, flanked by a bedside table on either side, stood in the centre. It had blue and silver hangings decorating it, and a fluffy beige rug lay in front of it. A couple of portraits hung on either side of the room and a dark wooden dresser stood in one corner. There was a half-open door on one side of the room, which lead into the ensuite bathroom, and a doorway on the opposite side which lead to the walk-in wardrobe.
However, the covers on the bed had been thrown off and the hangings were torn, and LeFou was standing, hands on hips, on top of it. A broken chair, now merely a pile of splintered wood, which must have been the object wedged against the door, was situated a few meters away. Belle was struggling beside one of the bedside tables, restrained by a tall man with a moustache, who must have been Jacques. She had a bruise on her cheek and a small cut on her neck, and her dress was torn at the bottom. She looked up in shock when the two composers entered the room, with a gasp of 'Maestro?' Another man, who looked like a walrus, was standing on the rug, which was splattered with blood. He was holding a broken bottle and at his feet lay Adam, blood oozing from under his hair, among other wounds. He was either dead or unconscious; Forte could not be sure which one. He sincerely hoped it was the latter.
'Aw, come on!' LeFou said when he saw Forte and Fife, looking a little disappointed, 'just when you think you've defeated one moron, two more come along! Jeez, don't you lot ever give up?'
Forte snorted. 'How… naïve of you. "Give up"? What, and let you and your group of brainless intruders destroy the palace? I think not.' Forte felt a little guilty when he said that, as he had tried to do the same thing under a year ago. 'And who do you think you're calling "moron"? That's rich, coming from you,' he added.
'Hey!' said LeFou indignantly.
'Well, look at you!' replied Forte, 'did you seriously think that a mere handful of supporters would stand a chance against all the palace servants? I'm sure not many people would have wanted to return after what happened to Gaston, and there's more of us than you.' Even though Belle and the master were outnumbered before we came, he finished in his head.
'Yeah, actually we do stand a chance,' LeFou said defiantly, ''cause in case you haven't noticed, we've crushed your, uh, leader here, so, y'know...' He nodded towards Adam's crumpled form.
'L – let Belle go!' said Fife, probably a little more confidently than he felt, but nevertheless he raised the candelabrum in his hand, pointing it at each of the three men in turn.
'You heard him,' said Forte forcefully, 'release her. Now!'
'I don't think so, buddy!' laughed Jacques, and he tightened his grip, twisting Belle's arms behind her back as she winced painfully and struggled even more.
'What ya gonna do?' asked the other man in mock fright, 'you're, I dunno… old! And your shrimp of a sidekick probably won't do much, either.' Fife looked offended.
'You'd be surprised,' Forte muttered. 'Look, what more do you want? You've… defeated the master, are you happy now? Just leave!'
'Nuh-uh,' replied LeFou, shaking his head.
'And I said,' repeated Forte through gritted teeth, taking a step forward and raising his weapon, 'release her.'
'Not without a fight!' roared the man gleefully, and a split second later he was running towards Forte, brandishing the bottle. Forte dodged the blow that was aimed at him and the man spun round in rage. He tried again, and this time he was successful in hitting Forte in the face, knocking him into the dresser, which wobbled dangerously, and leaving a deep gash in his cheek. LeFou's henchmen may not have been the brightest of people, but one could not deny their strength, and this man did not seem to care who he tried to kill. In fact, judging by the fact that he was grinning from ear to ear, he seemed to enjoy causing people as much bodily harm as possible.
'Maestro!' Fife cried. He attacked the man, thumping him on the back with the candelabrum. He hissed in pain and rounded on Fife. Forte got up and suddenly found himself face to face with LeFou, who had sprung off the bed with his fists clenched. Forte barely had time to avoid the punch that was aimed at him and staggered backwards. He swung the candelabrum at LeFou and succeeded in striking his upper arm, causing him to squeal in pain. In the background, Forte could see Belle attempting to escape Jacques' firm grip whilst watching the four other men fighting with wide eyes. Forte raised the candelabrum again and aimed for LeFou's chest, but this time he dodged the blow and caught the end of the candelabrum with his chubby hands, attempting to wrestle it off him. After a few seconds, Forte tugged hard, almost lifting LeFou's squat form off the ground. It would have been almost comical if the situation wasn't so serious. By now they had moved to the foot of the bed, directly opposite Belle and Jacques. Forte could see Fife and the other man fighting each other at the end of the room.
Forte succeeded in pulling the candelabrum out of LeFou's clutches, sending him sprawling backwards. After a moment, a dazed-looking LeFou hauled himself up and sprinted towards the broken chair. A split-second later he grabbed a chair leg and hurled it towards Forte. It hit his shoulder and he gasped in pain. Suddenly a soft groan emitted from near his feet. Adam was moving, but only slightly. He was alive! Out of the corner of his eye Forte caught sight of another oncoming chair leg that narrowly missed his head. Forte raised the candelabrum and was seconds away from sending it hurtling towards LeFou, when a loud yet strangled cry from the top of the bed made him turn his head.
Jacques' fingers were closed around Belle's throat. She looked around at everyone in desperation as her eyes widened and her face went slowly blue.
'Stop or I'll strangle her to death,' said Jacques, grinning wildly. By now Fife, LeFou and the other man had also paused mid-fight and were looking towards the distraction.
'Belle…' whispered Adam, very slowly but surely regaining consciousness.
'Drop your weapons!' Jacques ordered. The two composers looked at each other and slowly laid the candelabra they were holding on the ground.
'N – no!' Belle said hoarsely, 'maestros, don't put them down! Don't worry about –'
'Didn't we tell you to BE QUIET?' bellowed the man at the end of the room. All of a sudden he had pulled a short knife out of his pocket. He raised his arm and aimed the knife at Belle.
'NO!' roared Forte.
Before he had time to think, Forte had flung himself in front of Belle, knocking her into the bedside table, into the way of the knife which was now plunging towards him. A fraction of a second later, pain shot through one side of his chest as the knife pierced his flesh and he collapsed, a patch of crimson blood seeping through his white shirt. Gasping in agony, he caught a glimpse of Fife's shocked and frightened face before darkness enveloped him completely.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I tried my best to keep everyone in character, particularly LeFou, although you have to remember that he's got revenge on his mind so I imagine he'd try not to be as dopey as usual. Plus he's quite a hard character to write. Anyway, let me know what you think and leave a review!
