A Tale of Fur and Flesh (7 page)

Lally’s heart pounded.  “Do the guards know where she
went?”

“No, that’s the mystery of it.  She certainly hasn’t
left, but she’s nowhere to be found.  The king is desperate for her.  Says
she’s a stunning beauty.”

Beneath the hairy mantle, Lally effervesced.  She
smiled at the impression she’d left with good King Aelwyn.  He wished to find
her! 
He wished to find her…
  Perhaps he knew she was Princess Lally of
the Southern Kingdom.  What if he wished to imprison her as his enemy?  Oh,
there was far too much to fear.

“Oy, hairy animal!” a nasal voice shouted from the
top of the kitchen stairs.  It was young Liam.  “The king wants to see you.”

Gott im Himmel
, he knew indeed!  “Why on earth would his highness
wish to see me?  I am of no consequence to anyone.”

“Well, it was you what made the bread soup, weren’t
it?”

Without warning, Lally was struck in the back of the
head with a dull object.  When she spun to see what hit her, Cook stood there
wielding a carrot.  “I warned you, I did!” the mottled woman shouted, shaking
the carrot like a giant orange finger.  “I said, I did, ‘Don’t you go getting
hair in the King’s soup!’ and what did you do?  There’ll be no more scraps for
you, hairy animal.  And what’s more, if there’s any consequence for me, you’ll
feel the
wide
end of this carrot against your head.”

What they accused could not be true!  She had removed
her mantle to prepare the soup.  Ah, but she wore it while serving the king’s
portion.  Resigning herself to her fate, Lally let her shoulders slouch.  She
trailed Liam up the stairs.  Cook followed closely behind.  “You’d better hope
our king looks more kindly upon you than I do, little beast,” she hissed as
they entered the great hall.

There were fewer guests about than when Lally was
there earlier.  Perhaps the gathering was over now.  Unlike before, hardly a
man or woman looked in her direction as they strode toward the king.  When Liam
announced their arrival and shifted sideways, Lally found herself standing once
again before King Aelwyn.  She suddenly felt naked, and wondered if the king
could see her golden gown under the layers of peltry.

“Who are you?” he inquired.  His voice was soft as
velvet, but it reverberated deeply within her body.  Her mind shot back to the
hiss of Snake’s voice, and the harsh brogue of Wolf’s.  If only she could add
the king’s pelt to her mantle…but Allerleirauh’s place was not in the palace. 
She lived underneath it.  Her place was in the darkness of the cellar cabinet,
under layers of peltry. 

“I am nothing,” Lally replied, falling to her knees before
the king.  “Please do not trouble yourself to punish a dirty beast.  I am of no
consequence to anybody.”

The king laughed.  “I have no desire to punish you. 
Tell me your name.”

The “L” was on her tongue when she bit her teeth
down.  She realized, in the entire time she’d worked under the cook, nobody in
the palace had ever asked her name.  “They call me ‘hairy animal,’” Lally
responded, staring at the marble floor.  How did they make it so smooth and so
shiny?

“And that is your name?” the king asked
incredulously.  “Hairy animal?”

“Yes.”

“Yes,
your highness
,” Laim corrected, kicking
Lally in the small of her back.  She bit her tongue to keep from crying out in
pain.

“Yes, your highness,” Lally whimpered.

“And what is your function in my palace?” the king
continued. 

If she could only remove the wolf’s mask, he could
see the pain in her eyes.  “I am good for nothing but to have carrots thrown at
my head,” Lally replied.  If only she could go to sleep in the woods and never
again awaken.  She was good for nothing, good to no one.

“Come now,” the king replied, his voice soothing as a
warm bath.  “You have some function here, I gather.  I am told you prepared my
soup this evening.”

“Yes, your highness,” the cook chimed in.  “Yes, that
is God’s own truth.  The hairy animal cooked that soup.  I didn’t get one look
at it before it left the kitchen, so if you found a hair, that’s naught to do
with me.”

The king turned his attention to the loud woman. 
“You are the cook, then?”

Cook smoothed her apron proudly against the fat of
her belly.  “Yes, your highness, I am that.”

“Then it is your responsibility to look over every
morsel of food intended for my table, is it not?”

Cook’s throat made a sound like a cough combined with
a cluck.  “Well, yes, but, you see…”

“Never mind,” the king interrupted.  “We are not here
to discuss your ineptitude.”  He cast his warm eyes over Lally.  “I knew
immediately that soup was not prepared by Cook.  It was not over-salted and
over-boiled.  It was not made in haste, but with great care.  In fact, I have
never before tasted such a fresh and delicious bread soup.”

Allerleirauh sat upright like a thirsty flower to
water.  “There was no hair in it, then?”

“None at all,” replied the king.  “I did, however,
find this.”

Against the rosy flesh of the king’s palm sat a gold
thread.

“What is it?” asked Liam.

“It’s a string made of gold!” cried the greedy cook. 
“Well, where would a hairy animal get a thing like that?  She must’ve stolen it
from amongst the small treasures I’ve accumulated.  Yes, come to think on it, I
did have a gold thread like that.”

 Again, the king cast his gaze upon Cook.  “Do you
mean to tell me this gold thread belongs to you?”

“It surely does,” Cook lied.  “Might I have it
returned to me please?”

King Aelwyn cast a dubious gaze over the portly
woman, but handed her the thread nonetheless.  “After tomorrow’s festival,” he
continued, “I should like for the hairy animal to prepare my soup again.  I
enjoyed it very much.”

The king cast a glorious smile over Lally as he rose
from his throne.  He extended his hand to offer support.  The moment she placed
her hand in his, she recalled her place and occupation.  Quickly, she stole it
away only to see she’d dirtied his palm with soot from the hearth.  Her face
felt hot.  She couldn’t breathe inside her wolf mask.  The mantle needed to
come off. 
Now!

Fleeing the great
hall, Lally ran down the kitchen stairs and into her small cupboard.  Off came
the mantle.  Her gown shone like the summer sun.  She breathed in deeply, but
the air of the cupboard smelled of the onions and potatoes that also made their
homes there.  If only she had a mirror.  She wondered what others had seen when
they looked at her.  Was she lovely?  Or were they fools to think so? 

Removing the golden gown, Allerleirauh slipped into
her snakeskin bustier and tattered black skirts.  This was her rightful
clothing.  Lying on the three glorious dresses, Lally pulled her pelts overtop
of her and closed her eyes to sleep.  Tomorrow would be a better day.  Tomorrow
she would be fearless.

Chapter Six

Lally worked tirelessly alongside Cook to prepare for
the evening’s festivities.  The topic of the gold thread was not broached. 
Neither did Cook mention the hairy animal’s soup being declared superior to
hers.  The large woman did, however, begin hitting Lally with three carrots
instead of one.

Liam and the other servers came and went with the
dinner.  For an hour and a half afterwards, Lally tried to work up the courage
to ask Cook if she could go upstairs.  Every time she opened her mouth, the
words ran back inside.  What sense was there in asking?  Cook was certain to
say no.  Lally remained quiet, sweeping the hearth.  The silence weighed
heavily on her.

“Quit getting under my feet,” Cook grumbled, kicking
at Lally’s forearm.  “Why don’t you go upstairs for half an hour and watch the
festival?  Get yourself out of my way for a while.”

Lally looked up to see if she was serious.  There was
something like a smile on the cook’s lips.  Was this an act of generosity? 
Unimaginable!
 
“Thank you,” Lally said, rising quickly in case the capricious woman changed
her mind.

Which gown would she wear?  Offal had mentioned his
favourite was the one as brilliant as the stars, so perhaps she should save
that dress for a special occasion.  Washing the soot from her hands, Lally
pulled her snakeskin bustier over her head and kicked the black skirts to the
floor.  She slipped the gown as silvery as moonlight over her naked flesh.

Peeking through the cracks in the cupboard door,
Lally waited until Cook’s back was turned to race out and leap up the
staircase.  When she arrived in the great hall, nobody was there.  The festival
could not have concluded so early, could it?  The muted sound of laughter rang
from outside.  In her snakeskin boots, Lally crept over to the great doors at
the far end of the hall.  The laughter grew louder.  She heard music now,
also.  When she pushed the heavy door with all her might, a new world opened up
to her.

Hundreds of guests wore outfits of rich yellow, deep
orange and blood red cloth. The dark night was illuminated by candles and oil
lamps that appeared to be hovering in the sky!  On closer inspection, they
merely hung from cords tied to tree branches, but the illusion was nonetheless
spectacular.  Tents were set up with food and cushions. Musicians down the path
played wild tunes on the pan flute, drums and hurdy-gurdy.  A group of maidens
danced together in a circle, muddying their skirts for their mothers to clean. 
Lally hadn’t a friend in the world, nor a mother to wash her skirts.

Her heart winced when she caught sight of her darling
King Aelwyn dancing with another woman.  Had he forgotten so quickly about the
girl he loved last night?  Lally felt cheated and…
oh, how silly of her!
 
The dancing man was not the king after all.  Her mind played tricks in the low
light.  Pressing on through the crowds, she stopped dead before a curly-haired
child dancing on her father’s feet.  The girl leaned back, holding tight to her
father’s hands.  Her bright eyes twinkled under his gaze.  Lally’s stomach
turned.  That poor child had no idea what breed of monster her dear papa would
become in a few years. 
No…she mustn’t think that way.
  She mustn’t
assume all fathers were as wretched as her own.

When a hand fell lightly on her shoulder, Lally
cringed.  Every muscle in her body tightened spontaneously.  With a desperate
yelp, she knocked the hand away and spun around.  But it was not her father. 
Not at all.

“I do apologize,” said King Aelwyn, remaining at a
safe distance.  “I would have called out your name, but you haven’t told it to
me yet.”

Lally exhaled with a wave of relief. When she gazed
about, she noticed the guests had cleared a wide circle for them.  She inhaled
the warm night air.  Her heart floated above the tents and streamers and lamps.
All eyes were on Lally and her silver dress.

“Please, call me Allerleirauh,” she told the king.

“Allerleirauh,” he considered.  On his tongue, the
name was far less ugly than it had been.  How badly she desired for him to
speak her true name.  But Lally was hidden somewhere, forgotten under layers of
peltry and sparkling gowns.  “A most unusual name,” he continued.  “It means,
‘many layers of raw furs,’ does it not?”

Did he know she and the hairy animal were one?  No. 
How could he?  And yet…

“I haven’t a clue,” Lally said dismissively,
scratching her nose.  When she noticed the black soot beneath her short
fingernails, she hid her hands behind her back.  The king seemed perplexed by
her bizarre actions.  Lally wished she could take it back or cover over the
insult somehow.  “Shall we dance?” she proposed, placing her hand upon the
king’s forearm. The warmth of King Aelwyn’s dark flesh reawakened some
forgotten aspect of Lally’s nature.  Her slouched shoulders rolled back.  She
stood proud and upright, propelling herself towards him.  The king smelled of
spearmint, frankincense and tree bark.  All familiar scents, but the
combination enchanted her.

The king chuckled as though in disbelief that
she
might ask
him
to dance. “Formidable idea,” he responded.

When he placed his large hand at the base of her
back, Lally remembered the feeling of wanting something more than sleep and
table scraps.  His eyes were warm pools.  Sympathetic.  They understood.  Many
months’ deprivation surfaced in her body as an aching void.  She could wait not
a moment longer to relieve the ache.  Reaching up to touch the king’s soft
cheek, Lally pulled him down to her height.  She kissed his softer-than-silk
lips.  The king had chewed spearmint after dinner; she could taste it mingling
with spices in his warm mouth. Her core whirled, even as she stood still.  It
was the dress silvery as moonlight that made her bold.

King Aelwyn raised his head away from hers.  He
suddenly seemed so far away.  He appeared stupefied, befuddled and besotted. 
“Who are you, Allerleirauh?  I’ve never met a woman so enchanting.”

Lally placed a hand on the king’s arm.  His jacket
was the colour of a sunset.  “I know not who I am.  I know not where I go.  I
know only where I come from, and that I wish to forget.”