Chapter 5
Disclaimer: Disney owns its version of Beauty and the Beast, not me. If I did, you'd be reading this in a nice bound book with illustrations that show exactly what I'm seeing in my mind as I write this. Or something like that.
That evening, at dusk
Belle sat up in the last dying rays of the sun, realizing dazedly that she had cried herself to sleep curled up in a tiny, miserable ball. Her teeth clenched as she remembered why. So Getsuru thought he could steal her away and marry her just like that, without any respect to the law, or her wishes, or any other such small inconveniences. Well. If he continued to pursue her, she would be ready for him. Growing up next door to four rambunctious boys before their family had moved to Amsterdam had given her a great deal of experience in punishing tormentors who thought a lone girl was easy prey. Still, Getsuru was extremely resourceful; she knew that without a doubt now that she'd seen what levels he was capable of stooping to. Belle was unsure if any of her usual tricks would discourage him for long. She'd caught him off guard so far with her outright refusals, but he would be much better prepared the next time. How long could she hold him off? Likely not until her father got home in two weeks or so. And as long as she was alone, she was vulnerable. If Getsuru caught her by surprise even once, it would be all over for her.
Belle smiled to herself. Her mother had often teased her of thinking like a general in her occasional miniature wars-of-retaliation against the boys next door. And here she was, so far away from home, doing so again. Belle had never been one to sit back and accept her fate tamely.
She stood stiffly, wandering upstairs to her father's workshop to see if he had left anything that might be useful inside. She stopped stock-still at the door. The room felt silent and unused after the frenzied activity of the day before, a feeling that was almost ominous in the gathering dark. The unease at being alone that had plagued her all morning came back and hit her full-force. Belle sat down on the top step of the attic to collect her thoughts and compose herself.
Oh, Papa, I miss you so! Hurry back! she thought prayerfully, wiping at the tears that leaked unbidden from her eyes. And it's not only missing Papa, she realized, her head still in her hands, And not only these sudden…problems…with Getsuru. It's that everything here is still so different, and so strange. I'm not entirely sure of all the rules that everyone else here seems to already know. But I have to start learning sometime, I suppose. Though she wanted to remain on that step thinking her own lonely thoughts forever, Belle forced herself to stand and turn to that achingly empty room again. In one corner she spied a rusty metal bucket that might serve her purposes very well. Belle took a breath, stepped into the room, and began the hunt for some sturdy rope.
Much later, closer to midnight, Belle awoke in bed feeling as though she were going to suffocate. Though the night was still warm, as befitted early fall, she had closed and bolted all the house's shutters against surprise entry. The heat of the unmoving air in her bedroom was almost unbearable. Dashing the sweat from her forehead, Belle took her thickest blanket and dragged it downstairs to the main room. It was marginally cooler there, to her intense relief. Lying down on her blanket, she sighed and closed her eyes.
Immediately they shot open again as a great clatter came from outside. Someone had discovered the trap she had set at the front door. Belle thought she heard the person, whoever it was, swearing in Nipponese.
Grimly she lit a candle stub, threw the blanket over her shoulders, and made her way to the front door. She couldn't resist witnessing Getsuru's humiliation as he staggered away from her first surprise for him. Belle had filled the old bucket with smelly water from near the quay and carefully positioned it above the door. Anyone who tried to enter the house would be doused in sea-slime thanks to the rope she had wound around the door handle and the bucket.
To her shock, it wasn't Getsuru who was backing away from the door. It was a much smaller figure that Belle recognized instantly despite his oddly hunched stance.
"Koru!" she cried, flinging open the door and dodging the remaining water spilling from the bucket. The tiny man flinched back as if he expected more water to be thrown at him, or perhaps a blow.
Puzzled at such behavior, Belle made her way towards him more slowly. "Koru, it's me, Belle," she said slowly in Dutch. The tiny porter glanced up at her face and away. That one glimpse in the light of her weak candle was enough. "Mon Dieu…" Belle gasped, horrified at the sight before her. Koru had been beaten nearly beyond recognition. His eyes were swollen and black, his small nose had clearly been broken twice, and his lip was puffy. One tooth hung crookedly from its blood-soaked gum, and numerous other bruises peppered the rest of his face. If the rest of him mirrors his face, Belle thought in horror, it's a wonder he's still alive.
"Medemoseru," he gasped, his voice hoarse from screams, "Your o'to-san…your father…"
Belle's insides went cold. If Koru was here alone in such shape, what did that mean for her dear Papa? Hurrying forward, she took the small Nipponese man by the arm and gently led him into the house. "Come. I will find something in the kitchen to make you feel better," she coaxed when he hesitated. Whether he agreed, or he was simply too exhausted to resist, he allowed her to lead him into the house and seat him at the table while she lit more candles.
In the greater light, the damage was worse than she had imagined, though miraculously no bones other than his nose were broken. Swiftly Belle found him a damp handkerchief to blot the dried blood from his nose and set about stoking up the fire to boil choice herbs in water. She was grateful to her mother for teaching her a few things about plants with healing properties, and for drumming it into her to always have them on hand no matter how low money might be. There was no raw meat or ice in the house to put on Koru's swollen eyes, however, for which she was quite sorry.
Once she had put a pot filled with water and the herbs over the fire, she took the chair next to him. "Koru, the herbs will be ready in a few minutes, and they will help with your pain. But they'll take a few minutes to boil. Please, tell me. What happened?"
The little man raised his head, and dropped it again, as if he were too ashamed to look her in the face. "Oh, Medemoseru, you are too generous. Too gracious. If you knew…" he trailed away.
Belle took his shoulders and made him look at her. "What happened?"she asked softly, barely above a whisper.
"You charged me with protecting him. And now…"
"What happened?" Still Belle did not raise her voice, but the intensity of her tone convinced him.
"On outskirts of town, near where we meet man to take Mishiyuru to Lord Shogun. They surround us in dark. I could not stop them."
"Who? Who did this? And where is my…" Belle barely managed to gasp out the word "…father?"
"Ten men. Bullies. They do not like gaijin, foreigners, in Nagasaki. Most put up with because Lord Shogun and Emperor say, but some want all pale-skins gone. They took o'to-san, your father."
"Was it them who hurt you?" Belle asked. She now felt numb to her very core despite the heat of the fire.
"Most took Mishiyuru into forest near Nagasaki. Others stay behind, do beatings. When friends return, they are all frightened. Run away. Leave me alive. I come here, to, to, tell Medemoseru. Took all day." Koru closed his eyes tight.
"Thank you. Did you see what happened to my father? Did the men have him with them when they came out of the forest?" Belle's hands tightened on Koru's shoulders, making him wince. Guiltily, she withdrew them and clenched them into fists on her lap instead.
"Mishiyuru did not come out. I watch." A tear leaked from Koru's eyes, and he brushed it away angrily.
Belle clenched her hands tighter. "But you said the men were frightened when they came out. Is there a chance my father could still be alive?"
Koru considered. While he did, Belle brought her herb-water to him and began to swab at his bruises with the bloodied handkerchief. At length, wincing from her touch despite her efforts to be gentle, he said, "Small chance. Very small. But chance. When Medemoseru is completed, I will search."
"I'll come with you,' Belle said determinedly.
"No!" snapped Koru with surprising strength. "Far too dangerous for girl pretty as you. No. I will go alone. I will find him."
"You can barely stand," Belle argued, "What if something happens to you? Then I will be worried for two people instead of one."
"Medemoseru is too kind," Koru said with effort, "But what Medemoseru wishes is against Lord Shogun's wishes. His law. Safer stay here."
"I'm not afraid. I want to find my Papa, to make sure he's safe. Besides, if he's hurt, you may need someone else to help carry him."
"True," Koru conceded thoughtfully. "But other friends, men, can help. Even if Medemoseru makes it through Nagasaki not seen, there is forest. Has Medemoseru not heard stories?"
"The bookseller told me a little. There's supposed to be a castle in the forest, an oshiro, and a great creature that lives there and eats travelers. But he said no one had ever seen it. I thought it was all just silly stories made up so people would stay out of the forest."
"Not so!" said Koru with a shudder that ended in a wince. "Stories warn, yes. But forest is evil. No animals, no birds. They know evil better than men. Medemoseru must stay here."
"I can't!" Belle cried. "The forest, even a haunted forest, would be safer for me than staying here alone." Though she had sworn she would tell no one but her father, she confessed all of her problems with Getsuru to the small porter.
Koru's face darkened. "Impertinent boy, trying to become man by stealing pale-face bride," he hissed, his eyes narrowed to slits. "If it were not forbidden for peasant to battle samurai for woman's honor…"
"And if you weren't hurt," Belle pointed out.
"Yes. I would challenge him. It is dishonorable thing Getsuru does."
"Would it be…less dishonorable for you to take me into Nagasaki, even if it's illegal?" Belle asked, hoping she sounded convincing, "It would keep me safe from Getsuru until we find my father."
She remained silent as Koru considered. "Death if we are caught," he warned.
"My father may be dying. I have to save him if I can." Belle stuck her chin out, hoping the gesture meant the same thing in Nippon as it did at home.
It worked. Koru grinned. "Medemoseru is stubborn. And clever. We will go together to find your father."
Only an hour later, long before dawn, Belle and Koru slipped from the house. Belle had dressed in her simple blue gown and apron, concealing it all in the blue cloak Getsuru had given her. She had discovered it on the floor of her room when she had gone to change, and realized she had mistakenly carried it all the way home with her on her wild run from Bram's house. There was no harm in her using it, and Koru had given her an approving look when she returned to the ground floor wearing it.
Koru led his slender shadow to a different secret entrance to Nagasaki than Getsuru used, this one concealed behind the elderly tailor's home.
"Does the tailor know this is here?" Belle whispered as she waited for Koru to give the all-clear signal for her to duck through the tiny chink in the wall.
"Shi-shi!" Koru scolded, shaking his head. Belle guessed this was the Nipponese way of saying "Shhhh!" She fell silent, and said no more as he waved her through the entrance. Belle, careful to keep her concealing cloak around her, wriggled through and stepped for the first time outside the Dutch quarter. She was struck by how different the houses were: low and rambling, with dividing walls between each one and wide, sloping roofs made of slate rather than wood. Dim light and soft music spilled out of a few, despite the early hour.
"Pleasure district," Koru told her, anticipating her question. "Do not speak from now on, Medemoseru. Accent will give you away."
Belle nodded, and they slid into the shadows.
Koru led them on a maze of backstreets, many so narrow that one person could barely squeeze between the houses. Hours passed, and Koru never faltered. No one stopped them, though they twice saw drunken samurai staggering home after a night of drinking. At last, closer to dawn, they emerged from the crush of houses. Across a narrow meadow the forest reared up like a siege wall.
"Here," Koru said, pausing to catch his breath. "This is where Mishiyuru was taken." He pointed to a set of footprints, and a dark trail of trampled grass running though the meadow and into the trees. Belle drew her cloak tighter around her to stave off a shiver as she looked at the forest, and followed Koru across the meadow.
Belle could tell when the sun rose because it began to grow warmer, not because she could see any better. Almost no light penetrated the forest's inky depths. It seemed no one had been there for ages, which was almost fortunate since the trail of broken branches left by Maurice's kidnappers was as clear as a paved road. Still, Belle found herself missing paved roads as they made their way deeper and deeper into the trees.
At last, they paused in a small clearing. Several clubs and daggers had been stashed there and a small firepit had been built in the center, testament to the hideout of the gang. No one was there, but there was also no blood and no signs of a struggle.
"Men went no further than here," Koru said, after examining the edges of the clearing. "Mishiyuru went that way," he added, pointing to a smaller trail leading off in a different direction than the main set of broken branches.
"Why didn't they kill him here?" asked Belle, her voice trembling. "They were prepared," she added bitterly, gesturing at the stacked weapons.
"Something frightened them," Koru said grimly. "Medemoseru should stay here, wait for my return. I will find him."
"No," Belle answered. "I'm coming with you, and you can't stop me. Besides, what if those men come back and find a gaijin woman here?"
Koru scowled, but made no further objection. They started off into the trees again, Koru leading. Belle followed, one hand on his shoulder so that they would not be separated.
They continued walking all that day. Belle was wishing she had thought to bring food, or at least a skin of water. Just when she thought she could bear her hunger, thirst, and overall her weariness, no more, Koru stopped abruptly. Belle could feel his shoulder stiffen beneath her hand. She peered around him, curious—and froze.
Before them was an enormous gate made of solid wooden bars, designed in such a way that Belle was reminded of the portcullis she had once seen in an old castle in Belgium. It was set in a massive wall made of white stone stretching into the forest as far as the eye could see. Peering through the gate, each bar the size of a modest tree trunk, Belle saw a vast, sandy courtyard. A colossal structure built high on a stone foundation stood on the far side.
"What is this place?" she asked, horrified and fascinated in equal measure at the sheer size of everything before her.
"Kemono-jo," whispered Koru.
"What?" Belle turned to look at him.
His face was white in the dying light of the sun. "Beast's castle."
Author's note: And…bwaaaaamp! Scary Asian cymbal clash! Sorry, always wanted to do that. More language notes: Japanese does not contain words like "the" and "a", tending to rely on other cues within the sentence to indicate what the speaker is talking about. I have tried to maintain this in Koru's speech patterns, though if a few "the's" slipped in it was only in the interest of clarity for the English-speaking reader. The Japanese also find the terms "you" and "your" very familiar, and tend to use them only among family and extremely close friends. So I have kept these to a minimum when Koru speaks Dutch to Belle and Maurice, since he is very decorous, and done the opposite in Getsuru's speeches to emphasize both his rudeness to Belle and his extensive enculturation with the outsiders. Ja matashita (until next time),
SamoaPhoenix9
