Hi everyone! I am so sorry this has taken so long, I'm not making any excuses! Having a little bit of a crisis though in what exactly I want to happen next, so please bear with me. My thanks to all my reviewers and to the BatB workshop crew for all their support. Alsofeel I need to mention the Online Etymology dictionary; a great source for anyone who is writing in a certain period and wants to check whether they had certain words back then.If anyone wants to know, the word 'salt-lick' was first recorded in 1751 :)For my inspiration of Catherine's portrait, please see my profile cos I obviously can't type the link here, and its a loooooong link. Ok here we are, I hope you like it.
Chapter Fourteen: The First Step
The people congregated in the dining room heard Cogsworth address somebody quite clearly, for the two rooms were adjacent to eachother. In his haste, Cogsworth had also left the large wooden doors ajar. They heard him being cut off abruptly, which was certainly unusual. When the head of the household was in the middle of his duties, he never ceased to drone until every word was carefully pronounced and enunciated. When he finished and looked down his nose at you…that was when you were permitted to speak.
On this occasion, however, they heard him get as far as 'Good day. How may I…." before complete silence echoed throughout the rooms. Vincent's nerves were pulled just a little tighter. If this was news of Raisse, then he was suddenly not sure whether he wished to receive it. All eyes turned towards the door, anxiously awaiting the unexpected guest who could cut Cogsworth off mid-sentence.
Before long, Cogsworth wandered into the room in a daze. His usually red blusterous face had turned a sickly shade of white and his footsteps shook, a victim of his trembling knees. Nonetheless, he was determined to maintain as much of an air of professionalism as he could. His eyes met the King's, his expression one of shock and disbelief. He cleared his throat.
"Your highnesses, may I present the Enchantress."
At once, the whole room was filled with an emerald-coloured light, eliminating all other colours present. Though it shone directly in at least four pairs of eyes, it did not cause them to squint, for it was bright but gentle. Its vivacity was more present at the doorway where the green was so intense that it engulfed Cogsworth temporarily, completely obscuring the servant from view. Then, just as suddenly, it dissipated, leaving just a faint green glow around the figure at the door.
The Enchantress was beautiful, for she radiated goodness and peace. Her long and softly-curled blonde hair shone like morning sunlight. Her eyes were the colour of a meadow in the height of summer. Her skin was pale and smooth, for she was not susceptible to the ravages of age. Her mind held the wisdom of centuries, but her face was that of a young maid. She floated into the room with her shining emerald gown rippling around her like an ocean.
Across the room, Vincent dropped to his knees. Suddenly, he was a boy again, naïve and thoughtless, bowing before an enchantress and feeling fear and awe in equal measure. His skin prickled as though his hairs were growing thicker, longer and spreading. His trembling limbs started to ache as though they were shifting and reforming. All the emotions he'd felt that day twenty-seven years previously hit him at once, and he felt sure he was on the verge of fainting with their intensity.
All around the terrified King, people fell to the floor, also reliving that fateful day. The whole room quivered with fear and adoration, humility and despair. Only the Queen and her father were uncertain, though they also dropped to their knees, sensing that respect needed to be paid to this awesome creature.
Vincent dared not look up, in case he saw those eyes burn with anger as they had done before. Then there would be pain, shame, disgust…
"Vincent."
Her voice was delicate, soothing and sweet, although one could sense the immense power that lurked beneath its surface. The King looked up carefully, and when he saw no threat in her eyes, he relaxed a little and found his voice. He struggled to decide how to address an Enchantress.
"I…er…my lady…great sorceress…"
He ran his hand through his hair nervously, a habit that always manifested itself in times of extreme anxiety. The Enchantress smiled warmly.
"There is no need to be frightened. I am not here to punish you. I am proud of the noble, loving man you have become. A true King in every sense of the word. Please stand."
He did as she requested and thanked her, feeling a small sense of pride that soothed his battered heart just a little.
"I am here to help you."
"My lady?"
"Your daughter is in great danger."
Vincent was stunned into silence once more by the sudden flow of questions that had formed in his mind and suffocated his senses. He reached out with his right hand and found the back of a chair, which he gripped tightly for necessary support. Another chair scraped backward on the wooden floor, and Belle rose from her seat and rushed to her husband's side. Evelyn clung to Maurice, who was watching the unbelievable scene unfold in front of his eyes. The rest of the people in the room felt despair grip them like an iron voice at her words. She continued.
"Your guards can do nothing. They would never be able to find her. She has been taken."
"By whom? Where is she?" demanded Vincent. The Enchantress shook her head.
"Alas, I do not know. Powerful magic is at work. It conceals the child from us."
"Us?"
"The few of us left that are responsible for keeping order. Not long ago, we became aware of an imbalance. We sought to discover its origin and found an amateur summoning had been performed, unleashing a dark force hell-bent on a purpose that we are yet to understand. I fear this force has your daughter."
"How do you know this?"
"We have seekers who move in dark circles from whom we await information. Once the summoning was discovered, we sought to discover the meaning behind the force's release. Alas, on this occasion we were too late to stop the abduction of your daughter."
Belle spoke up, sensing her husband's inner battle to stay in control of his anger at what he would no doubt see as a lack of action on the Enchantress' part.
"What must we do to save her?"
"There is nothing you can do. Your daughter is being held by a source of incredible power in a destination unreachable by normal methods."
"Can you save her?"
The Enchantress shook her head sadly.
"We do not have the ability to challenge such an unconventional power. The pure righteous magic we possess is limited when fighting evil of this nature."
Vincent could stand it no longer.
"Then why are you here? If you cannot help us, why torment us with this useless information?"
"Hush, my love," whispered Belle in his ear. "Anger will not give us Raisse back." To the Enchantress, she said "Please continue."
"There is but one who can save her. His coming was foretold many centuries ago but we have only just been made aware of his existence. He alone has the means and motive to rescue your daughter."
"Who is he?"
……………………………………………………………………………………...
A key turned in the lock and the door creaked open. Slowly, Chip raised his head from its position in his hands, ready to face whichever person had come to ruin his life next. After all, he thought bitterly, bad news always comes in threes. He was disappointed when it was only a couple of guards. They looked at him with their usual stony expressions. One held a length of rope in his hands, obviously intending it for restraining purposes.
They think I'm an animal.
Chip stood slowly in order to show the guards he was not going to harm them.
"I will come willingly. There is no need for the rope," he said quietly. The guards exchanged looks and then tied his hands anyway.
Nobody trusts a criminal.
He was then marched down the steps and along the corridor.
Where are they taking me? Am I to be released…or sentenced?
……………………………………………………………………………………
As they entered the dining room, there was total silence. Every pair of eyes was staring at him. He suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. He turned and noticed the Enchantress. He knew who she was, though he had never seen her before. She smelt of the enchantment that had befallen the castle all those years ago. Was it his imagination or did his skin suddenly feel stiff and tight like porcelain? The hairs on the back of his neck and on his arms stood up.
Is this to be my fate? My punishment? I am to be transformed again. Surely not a tea cup like before…
Suddenly, he could not shake the fear that he would be turned into a salt lick, or maybe even a saddle. Doomed to be sat on for all-time.
To his surprise, he realised that the Enchantress was looking at him not with an expression of malice, but one of kindness and pity. Her beauty took Chip's breath away. He stood still in confusion while she instructed the guards to release him, and then approached him, glowing like a sea green angel. He suddenly remembered his manners and bowed his head, blushing slightly as he did so. When he lifted his head again, her eyes stared into his. He watched transfixed as she raised her slim, pale arm and placed her hand on the side of his head.
"So cold," she whispered only to him. "Why so cold?"
A wave of sadness suddenly swept over him. He lowered his eyes, no longer able to cope with seeing the goodness in her face. Pain wrenched his heart, along with a heavy sense of shame that tightened his chest.
The Enchantress stepped back and spoke to the King and Queen.
"He is not guilty of the crime you accuse him of. However, he is guilty of serious recklessness and misuse of magic. Ordinarily, you would be severely reprimanded, Chip."
He swallowed, bracing himself for what was about to come to pass. One act of foolishness, a lifetime to come to terms with what he had done.
Please God, let it be quick and merciful.
The Enchantress continued.
"Ordinarily, the punishment for breaking the intended laws of nature and fate is banishment and cessation of power, but you did not know, did you?"
His eyes found hers once more.
"You truly have no idea of your potential…of the power you possess inside you. You're just a child," she whispered. "You have so much to learn, and what you did was driven by grief and desperation. You could not possibly have known the implications or consequences of an act so beyond your own knowledge and control."
Chip's voice was dry and husky, and wrought with fear.
"No, my lady. I didn't mean to…forgive me…I couldn't bear it…"
She silenced him like a mother quieting an infant.
"The princess is in danger, Chip. You must save her."
"M…me?" he stammered. "How?"
As the Enchantress explained his quest, Chip found himself in a bubble where time stood still and place no longer mattered. He absorbed information but did not hear it. He listened but could not react, for he was frozen in that moment. It was one he would often find himself returning to over and over again. The moment when nothing and everything made sense all at once, the moment his path through life was chosen. The moment he realised how important he was.
The King and Queen listened, hardly drawing a breath. To say that Vincent was entirely happy with the Enchantress' words would be untrue. In fact, he was positively fuming at the idea that his daughter's safety was to be entrusted with a man he'd imprisoned for attacking her that very day, despite the Enchantress' insistence of his innocence. One look at the hope that brightened his wife's eyes though, and he knew that he must learn to trust Chip once more, as she learned to love a beast. He looked at the boy with pity, for he did not envy the task he was about to undertake. He knew full well that a quest of any kind, be it physical, mental or spiritual, was strewn with hardships that threatened to destroy one's hope at every turn. One needed immense strength and determination just to survive. Looking at Chip now, he could not help but notice an air of fragility and instability about him. He seemed tired and gaunt, as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders, and he was yet to set one foot out of the door.
Yet, the King believed in him, because he had to, lest his own unrealised hope leave him an empty shell also.
Evelyn D'Arbigne watched the events unfold with a single tear running down he left cheek. Her son, in every way but blood, was being taken away from her and set on a course that was dangerous and uncertain. She'd wanted so much for him…promotion, love, marriage, children. Never had it occurred to her that he would have to take a road of peril and loneliness before he could have any of those things, if he could now have them at all. He was so young still, with so much life ahead of him. Now he was to risk it all to save somebody else's. Although an uneasy pride enveloped all of Evelyn's feelings on that crisp summer's evening, she could not help but feel that she had lost her son forever. It took all her resolve and willpower to stop many more tears following the single one down her face.
………………………………………………………………………………………
An hour later, Chip was packing a saddle bag with the bare minimum of provisions for the start of his journey. Bread, cheese and wine from the kitchen, a small purse of money that he had saved from his wages as a member of the royal household, a few items of clothing and a hunting knife he's received as a gift once and never had to use. His whole life wrapped in cloth. He could not help but feel that he did not have much to show for his twenty-two years. As he tied the bag up, his eyes wandered to the dressing table and rested on the mirror, carelessly replaced by the guards on his arrest. On a whim, he took it and packed it, assuring himself that it would be more of a benefit than a burden. He then went to his wardrobe and picked out a cloak made of soft dark grey wool. True, it was summer and would be for another few months, but he wanted to prepare for many summers with harsh winters in between them. He had no foolhardy illusions about his quest being over before the first drops of snow fell that year.
A tentative knock on the door made him start. He'd spoken to no-one but the Enchantress that evening, having taken his last meal from the castle kitchen in solitude, and then gone straight to his small room in the servant's quarters passing nobody on the way. He wondered just how much human contact he was to have from now on.
"Come in," he murmured in the general direction of the doorway. The door creaked open and the nervous face of Evelyn peered in. Chip saw who it was out of the corner of his eyes and pretended to be busy inspecting the lining of his cloak. He ran the material through his fingers as if looking for holes. Evelyn walked in, closing the door behind her gently, as if she was afraid to make noise. In her hands, she held a small velvet-lined box that she'd kept hidden in a chest of her most precious possessions for twenty-two years.
She watched Chip pretend he hadn't seen her and tried to think of the best words she could possibly say to him. However, in her desperation to end the unbearable silence between them, she blurted out the first thing that came to her.
"How are you, Chip?"
His reply was just as inane.
"I've been better, thank you."
"Do you hate me?" she asked, unable to stop herself from needing to know the answer to the question that had plagued her heart ever since their last meeting. Chip's stubbornness faltered upon hearing the tear-soaked words of the woman who'd been his mother all his life. He swallowed hard and looked up.
"Of course not."
"But…I lied to you, I deceived you, I kept the truth away from you."
"I know," Chip forced himself to continue even though he was not sure he believed in the words he was saying. He knew he might never see her again. Best leave her thinking that everything was alright between them. "I know you were only doing what you thought was best for me."
Evelyn looked down at the object in her hands and sighed.
"I brought you this. I thought you might want to have it. It was your mother's."
She held it out to him, and he hesitated for a moment before he took it. The velvet material felt soft in his hardened fingers. He gently moved the clasp aside and opened it. Inside was a golden locket, plain except for the initials C. D etched in italicised script. With slightly trembling fingers, he removed the locket from the box and prised the two edges apart with his fingernails. The portrait of a young woman stared out at him. She was beautiful with long curly hair the colour of his own. She wore a delicate white hat with ribbons and a matching dress with a pointed collar in the style of earlier in the century. There was no doubt as to who it was, the resemblance was uncanny. Nonetheless, Chip found himself asking "Is this her?"
Evelyn nodded, emotion shining in her eyes.
"Wasn't she beautiful? I was her faithful servant, but I loved her like my own daughter. And I love you as my son. You always will be in my heart, Chip. I would not want you to go away not knowing how much I care about you."
Chip gently shut the locket and put it back in its box. Then, he tucked it away carefully between the clothes in his bag.
"Thank-you," he said, and he meant it with every strand of his soul. Wordlessly, he walked across to where Evelyn stood and took her in his arms, swallowing the lump in his throat as he held her.