Taming the Beast
by Brydon Caldwell
A terrible scream echoed down the mountainside, bringing the ragtag group to a halt.
After the noise had stopped, the shield maiden and the two guards squared their shoulders, preparing themselves for what they were about to face. They’d left their village two days before, on a ritual journey to sate the tarasque and protect their home for another year.
Lissa, the shield maiden, led the group and protected the virgin, Alais, from the elements and one of her guards. Abel was an experienced guardsman and had faced the tarasque before. While he did not relish a repeat experience, he would not wish it on anyone else. Carle was young and brash, recently committed to the guard against his wishes.
Lissa searched all their faces. “If it’s left the cave, then it’s high time we approached it. Are we all clear on our roles?”
Alais and Abel nodded gravelly, but Carle just shook his head.
“No beast can be so fearsome and still be controlled by a girl’s hand, especially a virgin! Let me go in there with my sword and dispatch the beast, so we no longer need to maintain this charade.”
“For the last time, no.” Lissa’s voice was flat, her patience already worn thin after two days of complaints, boasts, and more complaints. “Better warriors than you or even I have tried and failed. There’s a reason why we keep to the same plan.”
“Surely you can’t think that any of those warriors had the same skill with their swords as I do in either of mine!”
“Misuse of that ‘sword’ is what got you here in the first place. Be lucky that Gwinnet and Eugenie’s fathers settled for you being forced into the guard rather than something more permanent.”
Carle snorted even as he reddened. “Lies, all of it! Those girls were more than willing.”
Another scream tore through the air.
Abel cleared his throat. “Perhaps now is not the time to revisit old grievances.”
“You’re right,” Lissa nodded. “We know what we need to do, so let’s go do it.”
As a group, they crept up the slope until they could see over the ridge and into the clearing before the shadowed cave. Abel gulped, Alais paled, and Lissa simply drew her sword.
The tarasque was a hideous chimera, appearing as if it were made of God’s leftover parts: a lion’s head emerged from a turtle’s shell, armed with bear claws and the tail of a serpent. It lurched slowly around the clearing, punctuating its movements with that awful scream.
Lissa put a reassuring hand on Alais’ shoulder and nodded.
Carle looked like he was about to protest once again but stopped at Lissa’s glare.
Alias proceeded down into the clearing, humming a gentle melody as she approached the beast. When it finally noticed her, it took a few aggressive steps in her direction and then fell under the spell of her song.
Once the tarasque had been quelled, the others continued down into the clearing.
Carle was shaking his head. “A hideous and fearsome beast in appearance, but so easily bested by a simple tune. Truly, you should let me end this here and now. I’ll even say please!”
Lissa and Abel looked at each other for a long moment.
Lissa finally gestured towards the beast. “You know your skills best. Have at it.”
Carle blinked in disbelief but soon gathered himself, drawing his sword. He slowly approached the soothed beast and took an experimental thrust with his sword. After the first two bounced off the shell, he began to look for flesh instead.
The others stood watching as Carle made one futile attempt after another. The tarasque itself barely made a noise, seemingly focused solely on Alais’ tune. Carle had circled back near the beast’s head again when something finally changed.
“Alais,” was all that Lissa said with a nod.
With a gulp, Alais stopped humming.
It’s hard to say whether Carle even noticed. He continued to hack and slash at the tarasque for a few strokes more until the beast let loose with a low growl. Shocked at the sudden noise, Carle turned to stare at the lion’s head. He was still blinking in shock when the monster bared its teeth and plunged them into his neck and chest.
Carle could only gurgle as the tarasque squeezed with its mighty jaws and batted at him with its claws, scraping and tearing at his flesh. It began moving his body so that it could ingest him headfirst.
Abel cleared his throat again. “Once he’s in the gullet, he won’t be able to hear us anymore, should he even still draw breath.”
“Ah, yes,” Lissa agreed. She took a step or two closer but still held at a safe distance. “Carle Mermoz, for the crime of rape and aggression, you are sentenced not to join the guard but to sacrifice yourself for the good of the village. May your worthless life achieve one worthwhile action in death.”
None of them could tell whether his resulting gurgle was an attempt at a response.
They watched as his body slowly disappeared into the tarasque, inch by inch. When only his feet were sticking out, Lissa gave a nod, and Alais hummed again briefly while the group retreated the way they came.
“One beast satisfied for another year,” commented Abel.
“Plus, one beast that won’t be terrorizing the village anymore,” added Lissa. “Now, Alais, what do we need to do to make sure that the Elders need to find a different virgin next year?”
Brydon Caldwell is a long-time teacher and emerging writer from the western edge of the Canadian Shield. He was recently named the winner of the 2026 Icelandic Festival of Manitoba Short Story Contest. His writing can be found in Boudin, The Ekphrastic Review, New Verse News, and the upcoming anthologies Fear Dealer (Opolis, 2026) and Still From Somewhere.