“Since we agreed there were no winners, the prize is effectively null and void.”
“But in the same breath there are no losers… so I believe there should be two prizes in the offing.”
“Honestly, all this talking, it’s more exhausting than the challenge itself. What say once we finish eating, we return to the arena, pick up our rapiers and continue the bout where we left off?”
“Or… we each get to ask a personal question of the other.” Talac proposed.
Oh, that did sound tempting, she would like to know more about what made this enigmatic man tick. Hah, and wasn’t that how all good traps were laid, with something you really wanted as bait. And let’s not forget by agreeing to such a suggestion, Alia would be opening herself up to heaven knows what intrusive personal question Talac would ask of her.
She could lie. But the Gods, and she suspected Talac, would know if she did, given the man’s close study of everything she did and said on this tour he’d insisted upon.
She could refuse to countenance his idea, but he’d proven nothing but tenacious in all their previous interactions. Alia couldn’t see him yielding to good sense, as their bet left him horrifyingly exposed to any number of invasive questions she might ask. He had to have factored that in. Yet, he wasn’t backing down.
Better to get this over with quickly, rather like one of Mary’s nasty healing elixirs. “Fine. Ask your question.”
“On our travels here, we encountered many locals who advised us to beware, how their grandparents had told them tales of the Beast of Gloomenthrall from the cradle. Now, you aren’t that old. So, I’d like to hear the story about how the first Beast of Gloomenthrall came to be.”
Oh, for some reason she was a little disappointed in his question. “You could have asked anyone for a tale such as that.”
“No. I don’t believe I could. Well… pay up, Beast.”
“It all started when my Great-Great-Great-Great… Great Grandfather married a woman from the Southern Blue Isles. He was captivated by her beauty, wealth and spirit. Or so the story goes. At first everything went swimmingly. He spent her dowry money on adding a new wing to the Keep and at his new wife’s insistence, had some of the woods cleared away directly across from the Keep. Planting a garden for her and having a building erected that would just be for her use located in the middle of it. An orangery made from stone imported from her homeland.
In the early years, purportedly, the marriage was a happy one. The fact that she produced eight daughters and one son seems to support that.
But as the years passed by, they began to clash more and more. He wanted a spare, in case anything happened to his heir. His lady wife almost dying giving him yet another daughter. The healers recommending she cease trying for more children, given her health. I suspect that was the first wedge of discontentment to be sown.
The other main point of contention was the Lord’s treatment of the injured soldiers who were roaming the lands following the end of the great war with the Cerabians. Unemployment was rife, and many of these former soldiers were grievously injured and on the cusp of starvation. His Lordship became outraged when he heard his lady wife was feeding and offering shelter to these men.
One day the Lord and Lady had a tremendous fight. Things get hazy when it comes to the outcome of their blowout. Some say his Lordship banished his wife from the Keep. Other stories claim she fled to the orangery, vowing never to return until his Lordship apologised. Her final words to him a curse on his line, blessing it with an overabundance of female spawn.
One thing all the stories agree on is that during their very loud final argument, accusations were hurled on both sides. But only one stuck, as Baron Gloomenthrall spitefully declared his wife to be so old and ugly now that she was no better than a Beast, and that he would see her dead in her Lair, before she would ever be allowed to step foot in his Keep again.
That good Lady embraced the title and began the first steps in turning her gardens and orangery into the Lair that stands today. She swore that no one in need who knocked at her door would be turned away. And… a legend was born.”
“And since then, there have been successive Beasts?”
“Yes. Many. Each one has contributed to the health and wealth of the Lair. Some business orientated. Some more strategic. Over the years, given our sheer number of female relatives, the idea of a hunt was born to test the mettle of suitors. To ensure they were worthy of a Gloomenthrall bride.”
“But the fortifications and battlements? Were those really necessary?”
“Absolutely. In the past the Lords of Gloomenthrall have often looked to the Lair to shore up their coffers. They are, as the curse purports, a line blessed with an overabundance of females. Historically, the Lords have done little more than bluster and bleat. But occasionally one will get it into his head to try something a little more overt, such as attempt to infiltrate or storm the Lair walls.”
“Why have you never fully sundered yourselves from the Keep’s overreach?”
“The overabundance of female kin. They’re more effective than hostages. If we in the Lair wish to be involved in their education and combat training, we must walk a fine line. More importantly, with this arrangement in place we get to have a say in whom they can… and cannot marry.”
“Hah, what a canny solution. From the moment those suitors arrive they are being tested, are they not? You have spies amongst the servants at the Keep.”
“Yes.” Alia wasn’t surprised Talac had sussed out her people, that was his gift, watching from the shadows. “Although don’t forget to factor in the female kin, they also get a say.” Alia rolling her eyes to the heavens. “Most of the aunts and older cousins have helpful suggestions, though we find the younger lot are often misled by flattery and a handsome face.”
“You move people around like they’re chess pieces. Using the hunt as an excuse to position the players to your whims and get the outcome you require.”
Talac sounded genuinely admiring. Alia cheeks suddenly feeling too flushed. “If only it were that simple. In the real world it’s messy, complicated, and too often ends in tears of both joy and resentment.”
“Fascinating. But how did you come to take on the title of Beast?”
Forcing a teasing smile took effort, as did keeping her tone light and careless. “Now that would be a second personal question. And you only won the right to ask one.”
