A Beast's Heart (english version)

Prologue

"Lena! Lena, help!"
Frantic cries rushed across the market in my direction. Confused, I looked up from the vegetables in front of me and turned to the supposed source. It was the cries of a child. A child I knew well.
In shock, I dropped my basket. It took a few seconds before I could stir. Finally, my feet set in motion and I fought my way through the wide mass of people. The cries became more desperate and brittle. Each time, my little heart contracted a little more. It was as if someone was closing their ice-cold fingers around it and squeezing violently, that's how panicked I was.
The many people were blocking my way, looking at me with different looks. But I ignored the deeper meaning behind it. I was only interested in the screams.
More screams came and just as I finally broke through the crowd, it became eerily quiet. Only slowly did I turn my gaze to the scene in front of me.
A man and a woman lay on the ground outside an inn, covered in blood, in their laughter, two soldiers standing over them. Lannister soldiers, as I could tell from their red armour. One had violently lifted a small boy and impaled him with his sword.
"I can't stand screaming children!" growled the one soldier.
"It's his own fault," said the other, "He just shouldn't have bumped into us like that. Just as disrespectful as his parents! They probably have no idea what it means to be a soldier."
Suddenly the first one turned his head in our direction. Behind me stood the crowd, staring spellbound at the spectacle. I couldn't see them, but I could feel their stares. It felt disgusting!
"What's there to stare at? Nothing to see here, move along!" shouted the first soldier who had murdered the boy. The crowd immediately turned away, but not without immediately whispering about what had happened. Some looked to me; I met their gazes gloomily. In the Riverlands, gawking seemed to be a national sport!
The soldiers chatted, turned around and disappeared to their horses. It seemed an eternity passed, waiting.
Would they come back?
Would they kill me too?
What could I do against such big soldiers? I was only a child. Not weak, but still too small to take on two soldiers.
The corpses still lay quietly in front of me in dust and dirt. It almost seemed as if they were sleeping. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my senses together. Slowly I walked towards the dead bodies, knelt down beside them. Blood stained my clothes, but I hardly cared. My attention was focused on the faces of the two adults, contorted in pain and fear. Ice-cold shock flooded through me; up close it was even more unbearable than before. Very slowly I reached out and carefully felt the woman's cheek. I treated her skin like the finest porcelain, her hair felt like soft summer grass. Her blonde hair, which I stroked out of her face. Strand by strand, very carefully. Her grey-green eyes stared blankly into space, the beautiful blush on her cheeks fading. I felt the increasing coldness of her body, as well as that of the man. In one last move he seemed to have taken her hand, for they lay motionless on top of each other in the dust. They had always held hands when we had walked through the market. When we were out in general.
His eyes, too, gazed fixedly into nothingness. His thin, red lips were covered with gossamer dust. The otherwise friendly face was distorted into a grimace that I knew I would never be able to forget. It cost me a great deal of effort to close both eyes.
A very faint breathing next to me caught my attention. I quickly turned away from the adults. The little boy was trembling slightly and staring around in panic with wide eyes.
"Lena," came almost tonelessly from his mouth. He was struggling with his last breaths. Tears came to my eyes as I bent over him and grabbed his small, bloody hand.
"Shh... it's okay, little one. Lena's here, I'll protect you!"
"S..sing."
I had to smile faintly. Ever since he was born, I had sung to him every day. Over and over again. I squeezed his hand in mine and very gently pulled him onto my lap a little before I began to sing.
"He lifted her up in the air, the bear. Her hair smelled of honey. She stepped towards him, the maiden high. But from her hair he licked the honey. And back and forth and back and forth,
He licked the honey from her hair. All black and brown, full of fur he was. The bear, the bear and the maiden fair..."
He loved that song, I knew he did. And if it really was the last thing he ever heard... No! He meant everything to me! I couldn't just let him die!
"And sweet she was, and little and here. All black and brown, the bear, the bear. Her hair, it smelled of honey heavy. From the hair the honey he licked."
His eyes went blank, the smile on the childish face disappeared. The little hand stopped twitching and fell powerlessly into the dust. I noticed the tears warm on my cheek. There were two of them.
His little chest went rigid. He was dead. Even though I had never seen dead people before in my short life, I knew. That was exactly how my father had described the last sight of his father to me.
My father, who was now also lying here dead in the dust. Together with my mother and my little brother. They had died together, none of them alone in the seven heavens... but I was left alone.
If only I had listened to mother when she told me to stay close to her.
If only I hadn't run ahead to the vegetables. Maybe then we would still be together.
I turned my children's eyes to the sky, ignoring the stares of the crowd. I knew they were still staring at me.
Slowly I closed my eyes, the pain in my petite chest becoming too great and suddenly bursting out uncontrollably. I opened my mouth and, distraught and numb, heard my own first loud roar....