Gaston and Belle sat on the bed and played chess-the hunter had taken the board of pieces from the tavern so that he could spend his evenings or play when there was nothing to do in the morning.
Belle knew how to play - old Maurice must have taught her - but the game was no fun for Gaston - for some reason, Belle was winning for the fifth time in a row. The man stared at the board, where only a king and two pawns remained of his white pieces, while Belle, on the other hand, had almost the entire black army assembled. No saving moves could be thought of, and Gaston simply flicked the pieces off the board:
"All right, that's enough. Let's get ready, we have a lot to do today."
Belle laughed:
"Of course you're bored. You've been losing!"
"I wasn't losing. I had two pawns that would have turned into two queens."
Belle raised her eyebrows:
"And who would have let them?"
"I would have done well. It was obvious that I was going to win, so I didn't want you to get upset, or you'd start crying..."
"Don't start crying yourself! That's the fifth time you've lost!"
She teased him, laughing, walking almost on edge. Gaston dropped the board to the floor and, grabbing Belle in his arms, attacked her face with kisses. But then he pulled back a little, still holding the girl in his arms.
"We really have to go. If we want to make it in time."
They were going to a neighboring town to buy a proper horse.
"Okay," Belle kissed him once more on the lips and ran her palm over his cheek.
"I'll have a surprise for you," Gaston gave up his little secret. "And one more."
"Are you full of surprises?"she smiled.
She liked his surprises now. And this was marvelous.
They got on the dead horse they'd come from the village near Toulon on what Gaston hoped would be the last time. Gaston didn't even give the poor thing a nickname, because it was useless, the creature couldn't drive anyone or anything, and certainly if it had ever been used for hunting, it had been twenty years ago. But it was still too far to walk anyway.
The pair rode the horse for several hours before finally. The neighboring town where Belle's father often went to fairs showed up on the horizon. Gaston impatiently hurried the nag and then dismounted. It was indeed faster on foot. Gaston tied the horse near the market and gave it water. The animal began to drink, and then chewed grass phlegmatically.
The hunter took his wife by the hand and they began to push through the market. It was more crowded here than in their hometown, and he was afraid Belle might get lost. She was looking around with great interest.
"It's been a long time since you've been here, hasn't it, Belle?" Gaston asked.
"Yes, a few years now. Usually when my father went to the fair, I stayed home to rest and read."
"I see," the hunter finally found a place where horses were being sold and began to choose a horse. Belle leaned against the hedge where the animals roamed and watched her husband question the seller and haggle.
This went on for quite a while, Gaston was meticulous in his choice of a new companion, and finally settled on a black stallion with a strong chest and strong legs. He took a few laps around the paddock on him, assessing his temperament, which proved to be just right, unruly enough to be too easy to handle, yet submissive to his firm hand. It was so nice to feel a really strong and fast horse under him after a long break.
Gaston dismounted and approached Belle.
"Now let's choose a horse for you."
He savored first the bewilderment and then the delight in her eyes:
"Me? My own horse?"
" Yes. You know how to ride. We can ride together sometimes. If you like, I can show you how to ride over small obstacles."
"Oh, Gaston, " Belle gave him a big hug.
Gaston selected three mares, which were almost identical in characteristics, and presented them to his wife. From there, Belle was free to choose the mate she liked best. She stretched out her hands to the white mare, who may not have been very thoroughbred, but was on the one hand humble, and on the other, quite agile. The horse rubbed its nose against the girl's hands, recognizing her as a mistress, or maybe just begging for a treat. Belle turned to her husband, her eyes shining with happiness.
"Shall we take her?"
"Of course," Gaston smiled broadly at her delight.
"Thank you, thank you!"
The hunter paid and they took their new friends under the reins and walked along the market.
The next task was to choose a puppy. Gaston already knew where the best hunting puppies were sold in the town, so he headed towards the house of a hunter who was selling his dog's puppies.
As they walked, Gaston narrated:
"They are a breed of hunting dogs that are considered English, but are known to be native here in France. They are comfortable to hunt with on foot, you can safely keep up with your dog. Basset hounds are popular with artisans, peasants and other non-rich classes who can't afford a horse, so they are found to buy them. They can be hunted for small game such as squirrels, raccoons, rabbits, hares, and foxes. However, they also show themselves perfectly in the pursuit of wounded big game.
It is also good to take these dogs to hunt pheasants or ducks - with the weight of their bodies they are able to nail the birds to the ground, not letting them fly up," he stopped, talking, and looked at Belle. She probably had a headache from the overload of unnecessary information. "Is everything alright?"
He found Belle listening to him intently, eyes wide as if seeing him for the first time:
"You know so much..." she said shocked.
"Well, I should know something about hunting, don't you agree," Gaston shrugged, smiling.
"Yeah... I guess you're right. It's just that I..."
"...Didn't expect that I could tell you something interesting too?" The man asked, still smiling warmly and indulgently. Belle blushed.
"No, of course not. I didn't think so, honestly!" She protested so sweetly and then listened to him with such interest. In general, it was basically his own fault that she wasn't interested in talking to him, because every time they met, he acted like a complete moron. If he talked naturally, would not try to build himself the most important treasure that all women want to get, everything would be completely different. But better late than never. Gaston told Belle about the different breeds of dogs for hunting, and they reached the house where the puppies were sold.
"...The biggest puppy has never grown into the biggest dog, and we don't need it. It's a small game dog, like I said. It's all about breeding, so whatever the parents of the puppy are, it's how the puppy is raised that matters. The shape of the head indicates the breed, well...other than that, you pick the puppy with your heart. Didn't you ever have a dog, Belle?"
"No, we had nothing to protect, so we didn't get one."
"You should. A dog is a smart animal, a friend. When you're walking through the woods with a dog and he understands you half a word... Okay, I'm gonna trust you with something important. You're gonna pick out my dog."
"Me? Can I do that?"
"I told you, all things being equal and hunting parents, you pick the puppy with your heart."
They went to the house, tied up the horses and said hello to the owners. Then they went to see the puppies.
Gaston watched his wife; she, always locked up at home with books, was getting acquainted with animals for the first time, trying to understand living creatures. A vast world was opening up before her. Belle sat on her lap and the six puppies crawled toward her. Their eyes were already open and they looked very fast.
"I'd like to take them all," she stroked two of the puppies' heads.
"Well, we'll have to pick one of them."
Belle chose the seemingly bravest puppy, who was not afraid of her and Gaston and tried to play with them.
Satisfied with their acquisition, they put the puppy in the basket and took the horses. They returned to their horse, which they had left at the market, and Gaston sold it for the first price offered to a peasant who needed a horse that would just carry the simplest of loads.
Gaston helped Belle onto the horse - she was still clutching the basket with the puppy to her chest - and they took a leisurely ride home.
In the evening they fed the puppy and the horse, ate themselves, and fell asleep, tired but happy.
In the morning Gaston suggested to Belle a little horseback ride before breakfast. They moved leisurely at first, getting used to their animals, and then let the horses go faster and faster.
"Shall we race to that tree?" shouted the hunter, pointing to a distant tree at the end of the clearing.
"Come on!" His wife replied excitedly and started the horse at a gallop.
They were level at first, and then Gaston pulled ahead, Belle on her horse unable to catch up with his stallion. The tree was getting closer. Gaston could smell victory, but suddenly a thought crossed his mind. He held his horse back a little, and Belle neared him. She turned around to look at his face and smiled happily. Belle commanded her horse to push on. The white horse and the raven stallion went toe-to-toe and, almost at the finish line, Gaston held his animal back a little more. Belle came in first by half a length.
"I'm first, I'm first!" exclaimed the girl, starting her horse with a stride.
"I don't even know how it happened," Gaston sighed pretending to sigh. " It's because I'm not used to this horse yet. But it is okay, next time I will be the first!"
Belle was silent for a while, and then asked:
"You didn't give in to me, did you?"
"No, why should I?" The hunter answered as sincerely as he could. He loved to win, but this time it was no less pleasant to lose.
Then, in the evening, Belle, so pleased with her victory in the race, must have been so relaxed that she lost to Gaston in chess three times in a row. The man was rubbing his hands together happily:
"Another game, Belle?"
"Come on, I'm sick of it. You win every time," she folded her pieces and yawned.
Satisfied, Gaston stretched out on the bed. At last a victory in chess, a game that required brains. After all, Belle was too proud to give in to him on purpose.
Or was she?