The Clockmaker's Daughter

Chapter 2

Leon sighed heavily as his cart and horse trudged along the path. He had sold no clocks at town. His designs were too extravagant for their simple village and too simple for a town with far more skilled and experienced clockmakers. Not only had he no roses to bring back to Belle, there was no way he would be able to bring her to town in the future. Neither of them had any business there. 

As he went along the path home, dark storm clouds gathered about him. Before he was able to quicken his horse, a harsh downpour came upon them. Beside them there was a sudden flash of lightning and crack of thunder. The horse reared in panic, taking off down the road. Before Leon could gain control of the reins again, the cart overturned, sending Leon tumbling down a hill by the side of the road. 

When he collected himself, he rushed from tree to tree, trying to find shelter from the storm. All around him lightning flashed and cracked, threatening to strike him dead at any moment. With the wind howling about him and the rain beating heavily against his face, Leon could only see the ground immediately before him, having no direction where the road was. Before long he stumbled into some thick mud. No leaves or trees or grass. It was a path! Leon followed the path desperately. Before long he came to a tall iron gate. The gate doors moved when he pushed against them. Thank the heavens they were unlocked!

Leon pushed against the wind along the path until the shadow of a looming, towering palace flashed in the lightning. The muddy path turned into stone, and he found himself at the grand steps leading to the palace doors. He could see a faint candlelight in the windows, so he rushed to the doors, pounding heavily, yelling over the shrill wind for anyone to hear him. Leon felt a click in the door and it opened to an old, grey butler holding a candlestick.

“Hurry in before you catch your death!” he said, ushering Leon in. 

“Follow me and we’ll get you changed into some dry clothes,” the butler said, scurrying up another flight of stairs.

Leon followed the butler, while looking all about him. It was a grandest foyer he had ever stepped into with high marble walls and floors, and crystal chandeliers, although not lit. Large, exquisite oil portraits of fine noblemen and ladies hung upon the wall of the staircase. The butler led Leon into a guest bedroom with a large opulent bed and furniture of fine chestnut. In the corner of the room was a fire already stoked, warming the room.

“There are some fresh clothes in the wardrobe for you to change in,” the butler said. “Leave your wet ones out in the hall and then come down to the dining hall for supper. Our lord will meet you there.”

“Give the master my thanks,” Leon said.

The butler paused.

“Our lord,” he paused again, considering his words, “he has a good heart. But he’s a bit … unpredictable. You must not take what he says to heart, rather … remember what he does.”

Leon was confused with this warning but before he could ask any further, the butler was out the door. He looked around him. Where was he? The only palace he could think of in the area was the old Prince’s summer palace, which had long since been abandoned since the fire. Perhaps these were the servants maintaining the palace. But then … who was the master?

Leon descended the staircase after changing into fresh clothes. They didn’t fit him well but they were dry and for that he was grateful. He looked around him. The instructions were clear enough but how on earth was he to find the dining room in this massive place? He ventured further into the palace when he saw a faint glow down one of the corridors. He followed the light into a dining room that featured a long table fit for a party of several dozen at least. The end of the table nearest him was lit with a candelabra. The furniture again was of good wood and excellent craftsmanship. Otherwise, the room was surprisingly bare of decor. Down on the far other end Leon could make out the figure of someone else sitting in the shadows.

“Please,” the figure said, “have a seat. You must be hungry.”

Leon obeyed, never once taking his eyes off the figure. The figure snapped his fingers and a plump old woman with a kind face emerged with a tray of hot food and two goblets of wine. She placed the food and wine in front of Leon before delivering the second goblet to her master.

“Forgive me for not joining you. I already took my supper and you were an unexpected guest,” the figure said.

“Thank you my lord,” Leon said, bending over his plate, ravenously devouring his food. He was grateful to find any shelter in this storm, let alone such kindness and hospitality from such a generous host.

“What is your name?” the man asked.

“Leon sir. I’m just a humble clockmaker from the village down by the coast. I headed into town to try and sell my wares but I was caught in the storm on the way home. My horse got spooked and bucked me out of my cart and well, here I am,” Leon said.

“What of your wares?”

“Not on my person. I lost them all in the storm.”

There was silence as Leon continued eating.

“Do you live alone?” the man asked.

“Just me and my daughter, my lord,” Leon said. “Good, sweet girl, growing more and more like her mother everyday.”

“Are you happy together?”

“I’m happy enough. She’s a diligent, hard worker. Sensible enough but an idealistic romantic deep down,” he chuckled. “She gets that from her mother and all those books she loves reading. I think she’s happy, but I think she would also like more.”

Leon finished his food in happy spirits as the old cook came and cleared his plates. What an opportunity for him! His host was friendly enough; it would be most advantageous for him to make a connection to such a wealthy lord. Perhaps his disastrous day was turning around!

“You and your daughter sound like you live a simple, honest life,” the man said.

Leon was about to ask the man his name when he was cut off.

“Can you fix clocks?”

“I’m no skilled craftsman for ornate design but I know my clockwork through and through,” Leon said excitedly, “So long as it’s not too complicated I should be able to manage fine.”

The man snapped his fingers again. The butler who was standing by the wall, turned and left the room.

“I have a clock,” the man said, “that was burned five years ago and has since stopped working. I hate seeing it frozen at that precise moment in time. I was hoping you could fix it for me.”

The butler returned and presented a badly blackened pendulum clock to Leon. Leon laid the clock and its components across the table before him, carefully taking apart its frame and inspecting its inner workings.

“The frame is in worse shape than anything else. Only some of the pieces need replacing. I could make you a new frame and replace the parts you need at my shop,” Leon said.

“I’d be very much obliged. Name your price,” the man said.

“I couldn't, my lord, not after what you’ve done for me tonight,” Leon protested.

“Don’t equate your life to a simple clock maintenance. We’ll come to that price later,” the man said. “But I will not incur a debt to pay. Name your price for the clock.”

Leon gulped, his heart dropping like a stone to his gut. The coldness in the man’s voice chilled him to the bone.

“A rose,” he finally said, “If you have any. For my daughter, Belle.”

“Consider it done,” the man rose from his seat, slowly walking towards Leon.

“Tomorrow you will have breakfast and I will give you my own horse that I personally reared to take you home,” he continued, stepping into the candlelight.

Leon gasped.

“Now about the debt of life you owe me.”