Beauty Read Free

legends of his princely deeds even before he had done any. That was never good. When huntsmen got too cocky they normally ended up gored. What would happen to this fine, handsome prince, he wondered. And how on earth was he going to save him from it?



 
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    ‘Bloody bastard wolves . . .’
    S he hadn’t meant to come back this way but when her feet had turned her down the path she had followed them. Her basket was full and heavy and she should have gone straight to granny’s cottage, but the forest came alive in the spring and nowhere were the scents more alive than at the edge of the impenetrable wall of briars and bushes and, as usual, she couldn’t resist their lure.
    None of the villagers ever came here. They spoke in whispers about it and the noises that could sometimes be heard in the night, and children stayed away, but Petra had always been drawn to it. She placed her basket on the rich long grass and pushed back the hood of her red cape so that she could gaze upwards. The dark green wall stretched up as high as she could see, blocking out any sight of the mountain, coloured here and there by small bursts of flowers poking through the brambles.
    As she did every time, she wrapped her hands in her cloak to protect her from hidden thorns and tried to pull a few branches apart to see what lay on the other side, but it was a fruitless task and all she could make out were more twigs and vines, all locking together. She held her breath and listened, but there was only birdsong and the rustle of the forest. That was all there ever was in the daylight and she couldn’t fight the disappointment she felt. Perhaps she’d sneak out again tonight and see if she could hear the plaintive howling that sometimes carried quietly over the briar wall on the breeze. The sound might have terrified men and children alike, but something in it called to Petra and made her heart ache. For a while she had just listened, but then one night she’d thrown her hood back and howled in response and the forest wall itself had trembled as their two voices became one. It had become a song between them, a delicious, private secret that made her shiver in ways she didn’t really understand. But she longed to see beyond the wall and find the other half of her duet. What manner of beast was trapped there? Why did it sound so lonely? And what had made the forest create such a daunting, impenetrable fortress that no man had tried to break through it?
    ‘I thought I’d find you here.’
    Petra jumped slightly at the soft voice and turned. ‘Sorry, granny. I just . . .’
    ‘I know,’ her grandmother said. ‘You just wandered here by accident.’ She was a short, stout woman whose face was rosy with both good humour and good nature. Here and there a grey curl sprung out from under her cap. Petra loved her very, very much. ‘The forest can be like that with places and people. When your mother, may she rest in peace, was little she was always up at the emerald pond. She’d stare into it for hours, hoping to see a water witch or some such foolishness.’ She smiled and Petra smiled back, picking up her basket and turning her back on the lush vegetation that grew so unnaturally and fascinated her. She’d heard her mother’s story many times before but she never tired of it and she knew it cheered her grandmother, although by nature a happy soul, to talk about her.
    ‘I’ve put some soup on for lunch,’ her granny said. ‘Let’s go home.’
    They chatted about their mornings as they walked, the route second nature to them both even though the tiny paths that cut through the dense woodland would barely be noticeable to a stranger. The stream somewhere to their left finally joined them, babbling into their conversation as they walked alongside the flowing water, and finally came to the clearing where granny’s cottage sat. Smoke rose from the chimney and flowers were starting to bloom in the borders that ran in front of the small house. It