Hello, welcome to Stories Podcast. I'm your host Amanda Weldon.
Today's story is called Night and the Beast, a story inspired by English folklore written for you by Daniel Hines.
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Night and the Beast. Once upon a time in the dark and magic past of England, there was a knight.
His name was Lord Percy Cresca of Barnborough, and he was just as fancy as he sounds.
Being a fancy knight, Percy wasn't much for fighting and battles and all that sort of thing.
He was more the lordly kind of knight, who lived in his tower and ruled over his city without doing much else.
His city, Barnborough, was a nice little place, with plenty of peasants running about doing their little jobs.
All Percy really had to do was relax and look impressive in his armor.
And he looked very impressive in his armor.
it probably would have continued on like that until Percie got old and rusted shut but one day the peasants were all causing a fuss outside his tower What is the meaning of this percy called from his doorway armor clinking and clanking do you need aid from your knight I don't know what all aid means said an old peasant woman with more warts than teeth but we do need some help "'Eh, we need help,' added a burly peasant with a long forked beard. "'There's a vicious beast outside the town walls.
It's stalking near the tunnel we dug for the root cellar.
Three people have been mauled by the beast in the past week.'" "'A beast?
What kind of beast?' Percy asked.
"'Who would dare cause trouble in my kingdom?' "'Your kingdom?' snorted the old woman.
"'It's the beast's kingdom now.
Is the one who rose it?
Yeah, added the man.
The beast is the Lord of Barnburgh.
The crowd started to laugh and jeer at Percy until he slammed his sword into his shield with a great metallic gong.
Listen to me, he shouted.
I am the knight and Lord of Barnburgh.
I will send trappers out to handle the beast. Everyone can rest easy.
The crowd dispersed, and Percy retreated to his tower, scowling.
How dare they question his honor?
He was their leader, after all.
Well, best to deal with the Beast, and then they'd see who was in charge again, and all would be right by the world.
Percy sent orders to his best trappers, and figured that was that.
But the next day, his best trapper showed up at the tower, clothes torn to shreds, arm in a sling and slashes all over.
What happened? Percy asked, taking in the sight of the man.
Don't tell me the Beast got you too.
It did, groaned the trapper.
Sorry, Lord Percy, but it's a great, vicious beast. I don't think any net we have would hold it.
What about a cage? Asked Percy.
Something metal? A spring trap?
A bear trap? A tiger pit?
We've tried it all, said the trapper, shifting his sling uncomfortably.
The Beast is too clever.
It can smell steel and iron from a mile off.
The pit might work, but the Beast is too quick.
It jumped 20 feet straight in the air and landed on one of my men.
We barely got him out alive.
Fine then, said Percy, waving the trapper away.
Go and recover. I'll find someone more capable to finish the job." Grumbling, the trapper hobbled home to heal.
Lord Percy sat in his tower, scowling.
I was too soft, he decided.
A real lord and leader has to be firm.
No more messing around.
This time, Lord Percy didn't send for his trappers, he sent for his hunters.
These were hard folks with leather armor and blunt nasty crossbows.
They usually hunted runaway criminals.
So Percy was sure they could handle a beast. You cold for us, Lord?
Asked their leader when they arrived.
She was a long and gnarled woman called Stump who looked right at home in her boiled leather armor rattling with weapons.
You've heard of this beast in the woods, Percy asked.
I need it handled. The trapper's found it too strong, but I trust you're up to the job." "'Consider it done, Lord!' said Stump, cracking her neck.
"'You want us to bring back the head of the beast?' "'That would be wonderful,' said Percy.
We could mount it on the sitting -room wall.' "'Be back in a day, me Lord!' said Stump, and she walked briskly away from the tower.
Ah, she will handle things, Percy said to himself, and the people will see that I'm the true ruler of the forest. But the next morning, Stump came limping back to the tower.
Stump, what happened?
Asked Percy. The hunter was covered in scratches and bites and was walking with a pair of wooden crutches.
The beast, me lord, she said, her voice an injured croak.
It's too strong. The forest belongs to it, now.
The town too. I think we all best move.
This is my town, and I will not leave it for some beast, said Percy.
If no one else can manage it, I'll just have to handle it myself.
Percy spent the rest of the day polishing his armor and sword and shield until they were gleaming silver in the sun. His people would see who the real Lord was, and it wasn't some beast in the woods.
The next morning, Lord Percy made his way into the forest, shining in the sun. The peasants watched him go, cheering half -heartedly.
The Beast was terrible, but they didn't really think their pampered Lord would be able to do anything.
He seemed like a better dresser than a leader, but at least he was trying.
Percy walked out into the forest outside of town.
His armor seemed loud, clanking among the trees, and his fine, tabored overtop kept getting snagged in bushes.
It wasn't until he was deep in a thicket, surrounded by shadows and strange noises that Percy realized he might be in over his head.
ROAR Percy stumbled back at the sudden terrible roar, It seemed to bounce through the trees and rumble through his belly.
Where are you beast?
He said, his voice shakier than he would have liked.
I'm the Lord of the forest. There was another roar and before Percy could turn to face it, the Beast smashed into him.
Percy rolled as the Beast lashed and snapped at him, teeth and claws screaming against his armor and leaving long white gashes.
The beast picked up Percy in its great jaws and shook him like a cat with a mouse, then threw him into the mud.
Stop, no, Percy said, struggling to his feet.
He wiped the mud from his eyes and finally got his first look at the beast. It was a colossal lion, tawny gold and rippling with muscles.
There was no mane so it had to be a lioness or some kind of mountain cat, Percy couldn't be sure.
At that point in time, most of the big cats had been chased from England, but some giant old lions lingered in the dark places of the woods.
Easy there, said Percy, getting his back to a tree so he could stand up.
Easy now. She snarled and lunged again.
Her claws tore through the cloth of his tabard and left it shreds.
Her teeth bit into his armor, leaving holes and gouges through the silver -bright steel.
When Percy finally managed to roll away again, he was in shambles.
The lion pulled back to lick her paws and eyed him, confused about his suit of steel armor.
Percy used the moment to run down the hill towards the town root cellar.
It was a long tunnel under the town that kept food cool in the summer.
Percy had just paid to have an iron gate installed to keep out animals.
If he could just get behind it, he shouted, throwing a rock at the lioness to distract her and then turning and running.
He stumbled down the hill and saw the iron gate of the root cellar ahead.
He reached it just as the lion roared and started pounding after him.
Percy slammed the iron gate shut, just as the lion slammed into it from the other side.
Her claws scraped off it, and she tried to bite at the bars, but she couldn't get through.
Percy rolled a few feet into the dark tunnel and slumped against the wall, catching his breath.
The lioness tried for a few more minutes to get in, but soon gave up.
That's not to say she walked away.
No, she just curled up in front of the door.
It was almost like she was asleep, but Percy could still see her golden eyes peering out at him.
Well, I certainly showed everyone who the real Lord is, he said to himself miserably.
All his plans had fallen apart.
He had tried to pay trappers and hunters, and even went out himself in his fancy armor, and for what?
to be beaten like the rest. The lioness was the real Lord, too strong to beat.
Percy lay there for a while longer.
He was wondering if the lion would get bored and how long he'd be stuck down there when he heard a teeny tiny, Roar.
He looked down and there were three tiny lion cubs, each no bigger than a house cat.
One was dragging long links of sausage and the others were pouncing and taking bites.
And suddenly, it all made sense.
Percy realized that when they added the gate, they must have sealed the lion cubs inside.
The Lioness wasn't attacking for no reason, she was just trying to protect her cubs.
And Percy knew what he had to do.
"'Come on now, little kitties,' he said, gently taking the sausage links and leading them along.
They followed on clumsy feet, leaping for the sausage until they were right up to the gate.
The lioness was on her feet now, growling and nudging at the bars with her snout, trying to reach her babies.
Easy now, Percy said.
I want to help you, that's all.
Percy, moving as slow as the hour hand of a clock, opened the gate, careful to keep the medal between himself and the lioness.
As soon as it was open, the mother picked up her babies by the scruff one by one and dragged them out of the tunnel.
When they were clear, Percy shut the gate again, staying safely inside.
''There you are,'' he said.
''All reunited now.'' The lioness, all golden muscle, seemed to stop and count the cubs.
One, two, and three.
Satisfied, she turned and sauntered into the forest, her cubs nipping at her heels.
It was then, lying bruised and bloody and rattled in the tunnel, that Percy realized the peasants had been right.
The Beast was a true leader.
She fought for her family, for her people and she didn't stop, no matter how hard it got.
A real leader wasn't the best dressed or the loudest voice, it was the person willing to do the hard work — the person willing to lay down their life for others.
The real lord faced hunters and trappers and a knight in armor just to save her cubs, and Percy wouldn't soon forget it.
When the lioness and her cubs were gone, he made his way back to his tower.
The people were shocked to see him so torn and battered, but they gave out a great cheer when he told them the beast wouldn't bother them again.
Percy went into his tower and stayed there for two weeks recovering.
When he came out, he was a changed man.
Taking inspiration from the lioness, Percy became a fierce and bold protector of his people.
He was the first to work, the first to lend a hand, and the first to volunteer for the dirty jobs.
And over time, Percy was the most beloved leader anyone could remember.
And he was proud now, not of his rich clothes and fancy title, but proud of the way his people, his friends looked at him when he came to help.
And everyone agreed.
Percy was the best Lord that Barnborough ever had.
The end. Today's story, Night and the Beast, was a story inspired by English folklore, written for you by Daniel Hines.
It was edited and produced for you by Andrew Martin and performed for you by me, Amanda Weldon.
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