Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Plot, characters, whatever their copyright claims, belongs to Disney. Everything else belongs to me.

Human girl and dragon-man stared at one another for a full 10 seconds before either of them moved so much as a muscle. In that time, the Beast's mind slowly sank into blinding rage: What is she doing here? After I specifically ordered her not to come in here! And another question, more embarrassing: Why didn't I hear her on the nightingale floor? I was in the next room!

"Did I not warn you never to cross the floor that sang?" he rumbled, his voice low and dangerous.

"I…I thought…" The girl paused to swallow visibly. Her voice trembling, she continued, "this might be the—the kitchens."

This pronouncement, of course, did not improve the Beast's mood. "So not only did you go where you were specifically warned never to enter, you were seeking to disobey my commands about eating."

At this, the girl's huge eyes flashed a blazing emerald green. Though still plainly terrified, her temper gave her the courage to snap, "I won't deny that I was hungry, and neither will I apologize for it."

"What!" the Beast practically spat. He could feel the hot fire-sparks gathering in his throat with every passing second. "How dare you, you impudent—"

"How dare you." Her chin was coming up in defiance, though tears were beginning to run unheeded down her cheeks. "You think because you command this castle and everyone in it you can order things to be just as you like. After everything you took away from me yesterday, did you expect me to just put aside my emotions and sit quietly down to dinner across the table because you told me I had no choice? Because you ordered it? I suppose next you'll tell me I can only be hungry if you say so!"

"Tha…that's…"he struggled to find the Dutch words through his mind-numbing fury. "That's ri--ridiculous!"

"Is it? I don't think so. It never even occurred to you that I might refuse!" Her burning eyes met his through a veil of tears.

"Get. Out." His words were a poisonous hiss, his mouth glowing with pent-up flame. "Now."

Deliberately, she stalked around him. She turned back at the open double doors leading to the nightingale floored-hall. "I'm going. Bargain or not, I refuse to stay in this empty prison of yours any longer!"

With a feral roar he started towards her, flames leaping from his mouth. The whites showed all around her eyes, and she gave a true scream of terror. Within seconds she was gone, fleeing for her life down the corridor with the hem of her torn blue skirt darkened on the back edge.

The Beast sat back, his fury cooling now that the object of his anger was gone. Gone! his mind interjected suddenly. Where did she think to go? And then he realized. She thought you meant leave the oshiro. She'll run to Nagasaki, certainly. Back to her father. How will she get to the Dutch quarter? Almost certainly she doesn't know the way out of the forest, let alone the town. And more than likely she'll run into trouble on the way there, trouble she can't escape from.

Not your problem anymore, the logical part of his mind argued. You wanted her gone; it was likely she wouldn't have broken your curse. She had every justifiable reason to hate you. Now she is gone. You won't have to worry about human intrusion again, especially not if her story ever gets out.

But she doesn't know the way back. And that is almost a guarantee that she will get hurt, said his less sensible side, the side that still liked the impudent, infuriating girl despite everything.

She wouldn't want you to rescue her. She never wants to lay eyes on you again.

You must.

But—

You must.

Somehow Belle found her way out of the haunted oshiro with no trouble. It was as if the castle had sensed her intent and realigned itself so that she could run straight out the main entrance with a minimum of wrong turns. In her distressed and upset state, she barely noticed. Out the heavy main doors she fled, tears still streaming freely down her face in fright and fury. Across the sandy courtyard and through the portcullis-gate. She didn't stop to consider that it was wide open. She didn't even realize until she stepped on her first thorn that she'd forgotten her shoes. She certainly couldn't go back to fetch them, but their lack slowed her down considerably as she waded through the dense underbrush. Belle began to pant and her legs began to burn. Still she did not slow her pace until she staggered into a familiar clearing.

The clearing where the foreigner-hating Nipponese had dragged her father. Blinded by the sudden change from dim forest to midday sunlight, Belle realized far too late that she was not alone. A group of five men were gathered around a small campfire. It was only due to good fortune and the surprise of her sudden appearance out of the forest that Belle was not already dead. And she had left her concealing cloak at the oshiro.

The men leapt to their feet as Belle turned to plunge back into the forest. Before she could take more than two steps she was seized, none too gently, and dragged into the center of the clearing. While two of them held her arms firmly all five engaged in a rapid discussion in Nipponese, which Belle guessed was about what to do with her. She struggled fiercely, but she was weak with lack of nourishment and exhaustion and the men were terribly strong.

The debate ended with an almost predatory laugh from all the men. The three not gripping Belle's arms went to the pile of weapons. Two gathered up wicked-looking knives, tossing extras to their companions. The remaining man, who was exceptionally tall for a Nipponese, took up something that Belle at first took to be a long iron poker. It was only when he plunged the tip into the campfire did her dazed brain realize its true purpose: it was a brand. They meant to torture her first, before they got around to using those knives.

The metal poker began to turn cherry-red. With a hideous smirk twisting his features, the man holding the brand removed it from the flames and started walking deliberately towards her. Belle could smell the hot iron's tang the closer he got. She shrieked as loudly as she could, struggling and twisting like a mad thing, but the men's grip remained firm. She could not escape.

Working up as much saliva as she could summon despite her lack of nourishment in the previous days, Belle spat in the man's eye as he bent towards her. It wasn't much in the way of defiance, but it was enough to make him drop the brand. Angrily cursing in Nipponese and stamping out the sparking leaves, he went back to the fire and thrust the brand deep into the coals. Within moments he was back. He held up the smoking metal rod and glared at her with the orange-red metal between them like a deadly promise. Belle resigned herself to the inevitable, her knees turning to jelly. She sagged in her captors' hands as the iron drew ever closer to her skin.

Without warning, a low growl echoed through the woods like distant thunder. The clearing grew silent as every living thing in the vicinity stiffened and went deadly still. Though clearly frightened, the men brandished their knives and yelled loudly in Nipponese. There was no response except a slight rustle of leaves, which made the men even more nervous.

A snarl from the left! A flash of scarlet! The men holding Belle abruptly let her go, dumping her unceremoniously on the ground. She was so weak with shock and fatigue it was all she could do to remain upright and watch the strange scene unfolding before her.

The five men were looking frantically in all directions, shouting to one another as they tried to determine the nature of their attacker, or attackers. Two of them ventured into the underbrush; seconds later a pair of high-pitched screams--the screams of the dying--split the air. This frightened two of the remaining three so badly that they lost their heads and tried to flee. More screams followed, farther away. The remaining man, the big ringleader, picked up a curved, silvery knife in addition to the still-hot brand he carried. With a woodsman's ease he slid into the brush, leaving Belle alone in the clearing. Scarcely daring to breathe, she listened. For almost a minute nothing happened. And then a pain-filled roar followed immediately by another scream rent the air, making her jump. She waited for several nerve-wracked minutes, but the forest had fallen deathly silent again.

At last, Belle managed to force her quaking knees lift and carry her. Cautiously she made her way out of the clearing, in the direction of the final set of noises. Coming around a massive tree, she leaped back in shock and horror.

Sprawled at the base of the tree, which evidently he'd leaped around to surprise his attacker, lay the brand-wielding ringleader of the gang. He was clearly dead, blood drying in a dark pool around his slit throat. Beside him, panting heavily, also bleeding, lay a large, scarlet-scaled figure she recognized immediately. The Beast.

Belle had no idea what she had been expecting to see, but the discovery that her nemesis, her cruel captor, was now her unseen savior hit Belle right in the pit of her stomach. Gulping back the bile rising to her mouth, she made her way around the man's dead body to the Beast's side. Gently, she asked, "Are you all right?"

It was a foolish, useless question, she knew, but she was spared the embarrassment of it as the Beast fainted dead away before her. Examining him closely, she found a deep gash in his left front shoulder where the man had surprised him with his knife before meeting his own death at the Beast's claws. Though she knew nothing about binding up a dragon's wounds, Belle immediately removed her apron and tore it into strips, wondering as she did exactly what she thought she was doing. She should be running away as fast as she could towards Nagasaki. But something in her balked at leaving the Beast in the forest, alone and badly wounded.

Tying up her rags so that they would cover the Beast's wound adequately proved to be quite tricky due to his snakelike shape, but she managed in the end. Many times Belle wished for her mother's herbs, such as she had used on Koru, but it was no use wanting the impossible. By the time she'd finished, a few streaks of late afternoon sun were drifting down through the forest canopy. Though there was little danger of him dying now that she had gotten the bleeding stopped, Belle still did not leave the Beast's side. It just didn't feel right, despite the fact that there had never been a more opportune time to escape. So Belle waited. And waited, and waited. The sun faded away slowly and an eerie twilight fell, followed by a night as black as pitch. She jumped and twitched at strange noises for a long time, but at last she fell into an uneasy sleep, the unconscious Beast warm as a banked fire beside her.

Author's note: As always, thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far.

Cheers,

SamoaPhoenix9