than that?
Perhaps he would devour me on the spot. After all, my father had given me into his ownership in return for the safety of my two sisters.
I had told Bryony and Susan that, if I failed to return by dawn, they should flee to the house of a neighbour on the other side of the valley. But even there they wouldn’t be safe if the beast failed to keep his word.
I reached the river bank and approached the fording place. There was no doubt about the location of his lair. He was right: I couldn’t miss it. It was twice as big as any other tree in the vicinity – a gigantic ghanbala with a trunk of a tremendous girth, its huge twisted branches stark against the fading light.
I approached the tree, and as I moved closer to that vast trunk, it grew darker, the branches gathering above me to block out the last of the light from the sky. Suddenly there was a soft thud behind me and I whirled round in terror to face the beast.
‘Hello, Nessa,’ he said, giving me a hideous smile that revealed his sharp teeth. ‘What a good, dutiful daughter you are to keep your promise. Tomorrow, just to show you how grateful I am, I’ll bury your poor father’s body before the rats can spoil it too much. The eyes have gone already, I’m afraid, though he won’t be needing them now. But sadly those aren’t the only things he was missing: the rats had already nibbled off two of his toes and three of his fingers. Still, his body will soon be in the ground and I’ll cover his grave with rocks so that it won’t be dug up by a hungry animal, don’t you worry. He’ll be safe and snug in the dark, being slowly eaten by worms, as is only right and proper.’
That cruel, callous reference to my father brought a lump to my throat and I could hardly breathe. I bowed my head and was unable to meet the monster’s eyes, ashamed that I’d not plucked up the courage to go out and bury my father myself. When I looked up, he gave another grotesque grin, pulled a key from his pocket, spat upon it three times, and inserted it into a lock in the trunk of the tree.
‘This is a door I use only rarely,’ he said, ‘but it’s the only way to get you into the tree in one piece. Enter before me. You are my guest!’
Fearful that he might strike me down from behind, I nevertheless turned my back on him and walked through the open doorway into the tree.
‘Most guests are usually dead when I drag them in here, but you are special to me, Nessa, and I’ve done my best to brighten up the place for you.’
His words horrified me, and my heart began to palpitate, but I looked about me in astonishment. It was incredible to find such well-furnished quarters within a tree. There were thirteen candles, each in an ornate candlestick, set upon a dining table so highly polished that I could see my own reflection in it.
‘Would you like a glass of wine, Nessa?’ the beast asked in his gruff voice. ‘Things always look better viewed through the bottom of a glass.’
I tried to refuse his offer, but when I opened my mouth I could only manage a gasp of fear. His words made me shiver because that was one of my father’s sayings. In fact I could see that it was my father’s wine. I knew that he’d sold ten bottles to the beast the previous autumn: they were all lined up on the table behind the two glasses.
‘Wine is the next best thing to blood!’ he said, showing me his teeth again. He’d opened all the bottles already and they were now just loosely corked. ‘I’m feeling very thirsty and I hope you won’t expect more than your fair share. Four bottles should be enough for a human, don’t you agree?’
I shook my head, refusing the wine. But suddenly a little hope flared within me. If he was offering me wine, maybe he wasn’t going to kill me now after all?
‘It’s good wine,’ the beast commented. ‘Your old father made it with his own hands. So I’ll be only too happy to drink your share too. We wouldn’t want to waste it, would we,