All language subtitles for BHOTW

Sir, time is running out. You must
leave immediately. I'm begging you.

They will arrest you.

Bring me the candles.

- I'm going to work late tonight.
- But, sir...

And my usual glass of wine.

Our world had to change.

The revolution has become a terror
sweeping the land...

and soon I, too,
will become its victim.

Convictions can make men blind
and drive them mad.

They can devour their hearts...

and transform them into beasts.

It was in the year 1764...

that the beast first appeared
on our land and made it its own.

One year later...

its infamy had spread
beyond the borders of our province...

and we came to believe no mortal
would be able to eliminate the terror.

Under its attack,
the province of Gevaudan...

sank deeper and deeper
into darkness.

Who are you?

What has he done?

- What has he done?
- He's a thief.

And the girl?

His daughter... a bloody witch!

I'm a healer. I took care
of their horses. They won't pay me.

Don't listen to him, sir.
These people can't be trusted.

- And did he heal the horses?
- Yes.

Be on your way.

Welcome to the land
of the beast, my lords...

but beware of the wolf traps!

The knight Gregoire de Fronsac
and his companion Mani...

were neither hunters,
nor were they soldiers.

Naturalist and taxidermist
to the king and royal gardens...

Sir de Fronsac
had quite a reputation in Paris...

for being a libertine
and a sharp wit.

As for the man that followed him
like a shadow...

he was a foreigner,
and you knew nothing about him.

As night fell...

the two voyagers arrived at the castle
of the Marquis d'Apcher...

who had offered them refuge
in the Gevaudan region...

for as long as their mission endured.

Our people would not be afraid
of a simple wolf.

The beast is different.

It flees from men
as if it knew to fear them...

but it spares
neither woman nor child.

- Have you ever seen it?
- No.

Then how can you be sure
this is the work of only one animal?

All those who survive
give the same description.

The beast is much larger
than a wolf...

and they say it has no fear
of the hunter's bullet.

I understand
your skepticism, Fronsac...

and I don't believe in... dragons
any more than you do.

But I've had a report drawn up...

a memoir of the beast's crimes.

You may judge for yourself.

Grandfather tells me you fought
the English in New France.

Yes.

I went there to study
the flora and the fauna...

and I've returned with several scars
and the rank of captain in the Royal...

I've opened a hospital
for the victims of the beast...

in an old priory.

It's a woman from Lorcieres.

She was coming back from the fair
when the beast attacked her on the road.

Her two companions came to her rescue.
The beast ran off.

But it had enough time
to destroy half of her face.

Tell me, Monsieur Fronsac...

has Monsieur Buffon
heard the news from Paris?

And The Ingenue?
Have you read The Ingenue?

Marquis, it's a bit late
to discuss philosophy.

You're quite right.
Let's discuss theater.

Do you know any actresses?

What's the theater this season?

You can put it there.

They say actresses are gallant.

I don't know if it's true...

but I've read some are quite free
with their charm.

Tell me all about it.

Here's something
to satisfy your curiosity.

The Mercure of France!

Here we have only
the Avignon Courier.

- I'll show you the servants' quarters.
- Leave him. He'll sleep here.

Very well.
Good night, Sir de Fronsac.

It isn't Versailles,
but his wine is good.

As large as a cow.

Jacques has seen many wolves...

but he says the animal
that attacked him is not one.

His muzzle was elongated
and his teeth are like knives.

If it wasn't a wolf,
what was it?

The beast has attacked
a girl near St. Alban.

There.

Calm, sir. No one's there.

Stop there!

What are they doing here?
Damn sons of whores!

Good day, Captain.

Good day, Marquis.

I'm pleased to see you.

Be on your guard.
There are traps everywhere.

Duhamel, this is Gregoire de Fronsac,
of the king's royal gardens.

He would like to examine the body of
this unfortunate woman more closely...

with your permission, of course.

So it was you, sir,
who butchered my men.

I didn't know, Captain, that they were
carrying out your orders.

They were not.

You did the right thing,
and I offer you my apologies.

My soldiers are not from this province.
They are trained for war, not hunting.

Beware.
She has been filled with poison.

What sort of gardener are you?

When your men
have killed the beast...

His Majesty wishes it to be
brought back and studied in Paris.

I've been sent to capture
its true nature on paper...

then naturalize it
when the hunt has ended.

For the moment,
I'm simply trying to get an idea.

My God! With a jaw this size,
the beast must weigh 500 pounds.

This time I'll kill it, Marquis.

Before the first snow I'll shoot it.

If everyone shows at the hunt,
it won't be able to escape.

Have you ever seen it?

One time, sir, in 13 months,
I had it in my line of fire.

I shot it. My word, sir.

I saw it collapse
and revive itself immediately.

We lost sight of it
at the foot of Mont Mouchet...

as if it vanished into the woods.

Did it look anything like this?

It had a black stripe on its back...

with a line of spikes, you might say.

My friends...

I would like to present
the author of these drawings.

Knight Gregoire de Fronsac...

man of the hour if there is one,
as he's come to us from Paris to...

Capture the beast?

His Eminence the Bishop of Mende...

His Lordship
the Duke de Moncan...

His Grace the Count of Morangias...

and Madame the Countess...

their son Jean-Franqois...

who has also traveled a great deal.

- Nice touch, sir.
- Thank you, sir.

Monsieur Laffont, administrator...

Father Henri Sardis,
of St. Alban's church.

And so, tell us all, sir:

Is there much talk of the beast
in Paris?

- They even write songs.
- When they should be saying prayers.

Do you think Captain Duhamel
would truly need the help of God?

And who may do without it?

Duhamel can barely disguise
his soldiers as women...

to lure the beast with strategy.

Duhamel does his best.

You're being very indulgent.
Duhamel is incompetent.

His hunts exhaust the people...

his soldiers devastate our lands,
and the beast is still at large.

- Certainly.
- My word!

Is it to pay Duhamel that my taxes
are sent to the ministries in Paris?

I would much rather give it
to my valets.

- What do you think, sir?
- Don't feel obliged to reply, sir.

My friend the duke loves to argue,
but he's a good Christian.

When you arrived, this brilliant
assembly was chattering away...

about the good lord
and the whole saintly affair.

It seems the pope has even
sent a spy to determine...

if the beast is or is not
a manifestation of the devil.

Excuse me.

Your beauty has charms
so powerful that I cannot resist...

Marianne de Morangias.
Difficult, sir, very difficult.

All the best in the province
have tried and failed.

- Who's the future victim?
- Maxime des Forets, a playwright.

Then this will be easy.

Be careful.
She's a Morangias.

- Mademoiselle.
- Hello, sir. We were conversing...

- You're Maxime des Forets.
- Maxime before you?

It's an honor to meet you. Authors
of quality are so rare in these times.

- The marquis has spoken of you...
- Really?

He wants to write a memoir
of his family, and he's thinking of you.

Really?

Between us, he's in good spirits.

But do it with finesse,
as if you didn't know.

And, above all, wait
until he broaches the subject.

Mademoiselle, excuse me.

- Have you no shame?
- Dear God, no!

And so, Mr. Naturalist,
is our province to your liking?

For the moment,
I've only glimpsed the beauty.

Well, at least one.

Is this how one speaks
in the king's court?

No.

It's a couplet you've reserved
for innocent provincials.

I might go to the court more often
if I could meet young ladies like you.

They're serving, sir.
Let's go to dinner.

Whither thou goest.

We had been sailing up
the St. Lawrence River for 12 days...

when we brought up in our nets
the strangest animal I'd ever seen.

The Indians had spoken to me
of their sacred fish...

but I was sure
that it was only a legend.

What I saw before me was a fish
in the shape and size of a trout...

but whose body
was entirely covered...

with jet-black, fine fur.

A furry trout?
Sir, you must be joking.

No, sir.

Salmo trutta dermopilla
from Canada.

It's as soft as mink.

- Nature is extraordinary.
- The water must be very cold.

That proves that the impossible
is sometimes possible.

Well said.

There's a discovery that must have
earned you honors in the Royal Gardens.

But I doubt he deserves them.

However, I do recognize, sir,
your talent for comedy.

Had I both my hands,
I'd applaud you.

Jean-Franqois.

Would you please be kind enough
to excuse him, sir?

Your son is right,
Count de Morangias.

This animal does not exist.

My embalmer at the Royal Gardens
is a skillful man.

Pardon me this little farce
at your expense.

Are we to believe
the moral of your story is...

that there is no beast
in Gevaudan...

and that our province
is filled with idiots?

The moral of my fable,
mademoiselle...

is that we find dragons and unicorns
only in books and poems.

Lies may often appear as truths
when they're dressed in Latin.

Be careful, sir.

We may lose all sense
of what you're saying.

But, indeed, what are you?
A naturalist or a philosopher?

Or worse: an actor?

I think our friend is,
above all, Parisian.

Enough said about this evil beast.
After all, it only devours vermin.

Charades?

This morning I composed
a little poem about love.

If Madame the Countess
will permit?

- If it isn't indecent.
- Indecent? Oh, no.

It's a poem.
It's very chaste, very pure.

It's improvised.
It just came to me.

It's entitled
"To the Wolf, to the Wolf."

"I was caught unawares,
though I thought not of evil.

I was caught in your stares.
Your sly eye pierced my heart.

I'm ensnared."

Shall I see you again?

Have you other amazing animals
to show me?

You seem rather set
in your ideas about me.

- Permit me to change your opinion.
- You can try.

- Will you come to Duhamel's hunt?
- Most certainly.

I can't allow it.
My dear, it's much too dangerous.

Obedience is the first virtue
of well-bred young women.

The young man's right.

There was that day in Gevaudan...

the largest hunt ever organized
in the kingdom of France.

The king offered a reward
of 6,000 pounds...

to the beast's assassin.

There were thousands of enlisted
peasants, swordsmen and soldiers...

as well as all the hunters
and adventurers in the region.

And for several hours we forgot...

that we were the beast's prey.

Each one of you has
a map and a meeting point.

The hunt will begin at 7:00.
I thank you very much.

You may, Captain, you may.
My men have other things to do.

Your generosity, Duke,
rivals your courage and...

That's enough, Duhamel. I hope
for your sake that we kill the beast.

It's a certainty, Duke.

What is that ruckus?

Fine weapon, isn't it?

I had it made by an armorer in Mende
upon my return.

You understand, of course,
it must be made to measure.

Here, look at this.

Even in Paris,
you'll never find these bullets.

I make them myself.

Silver? Are you afraid
of werewolves?

No.

But I like to sign my shots.

I am a hunter, Fronsac...

and it's a passion
that has cost me dearly.

What happened to you?

Let's just say
I learned the hard way...

some wild animals need
more than a bullet to bring them down...

and no matter what Sardis says...

you need more than prayers
to heal gangrene.

- Was it a bear that injured you?
- A lion.

A lion?

Yes. Two years in the navy
took me to many places.

Have you ever been to Africa,
Fronsac?

My lords, my daughter is
the cause of all this.

Here she is.
Punish her as you see fit.

She's ill! She's sick!
She's not possessed.

She is not possessed!

Keep her from swallowing her tongue.
She'll suffocate.

She's not possessed.

I know.

Naturalist, philosopher,
and even healer.

Bravo.

She didn't come, Fronsac.
You owe me a gold piece.

Marquis.

And the natives?

Superstitious brutes, like anywhere.
Like here.

Indian hunters eat the heart
of their prey to boost their strength.

Are they brutes for doing so?

In Africa it's the heart of the enemy
that the warrior devours.

Count de Morangias?
Jean-Franqois?

Please ask your men
to move to the east.

Well, here you are.

Mademoiselle, your mother
will be worried.

My mother is always worried.

If I listened to her,
I'd be in a convent.

I know you didn't believe me.
You're a libertine.

I'm not a libertine
when I'm in love.

You're in love?

That's ridiculous.
We hardly know each other.

You thought I was speaking of you?

We'll have to teach her someday
how to ride like a lady.

No harm in getting
a little exercise at her age.

My father sees no evil.

And my son sees evil everywhere.

People have died here.

How do you know?

I hear their cries.

Mani, stop that.

He's right. This was once
a Templar stronghold.

When it burned, 25 heretics
were burned alive in the chapel.

- Is he a seer?
- No need to be a seer.

Simply observe.

When I was young,
I had played here with my brother.

Were you not afraid?

He told me he would
protect me from ghosts.

Have you no taste for the hunt?

Is that a crime in these parts?

The Indians say to draw someone's
portrait is to steal their soul.

Are you interested
in my soul as well?

What are you doing on foot during
the hunt? Do you want to be killed?

- It's my fault.
- I asked nothing of you, sir.

- What possessed you?
- It was a wolf.

- And if it were the beast?
- I don't think so, Marianne.

Thank you.

I hope for your sake, Captain,
that the beast is among these wolves.

In any case,
these won't attack anyone again.

What a curious character.
Where did you find him?

In New France.

He's a... What is it?
An Acadian.

He's an Indian.
An Iroquois, from the Mohawk tribe.

An Indian? A real one?

He doesn't look at all
like an Indian.

Please join us tonight at St. Alban.

It will be amusing with your valet.

- He's not my valet.
- Then what the devil is he?

He's my brother.

Really, how could you have mixed
your blood...

with that of a savage?

A man is not a savage
when he shares in your misfortune.

Mani helped me escape the English
after the Battle ofThree Rivers.

I thought they were cannibals,
those animals over there.

Well, as you can see,
Monsieur Laffont...

Mani is not an animal.

Are you able to reproduce
with a woman of our race?

All women have same color
when candle is out.

And, yes, they even have humor.

If Indians slept with the whites,
they even had children...

which proves we are
the same species.

Don't speak too soon.
It's a bit like the Negroes, actually.

What say you, Sardis?

Without doubt your blood brother is,
like us, a creature of God.

- Have you had him baptized?
- He didn't request it.

Poor reasoning.
You're a man of your times.

Mani has his own beliefs.

At home he was a sort of... priest,
one might say.

If Indians have priests,
they're surely lost.

What exactly are their beliefs?

The Mohawks believe
for each man there is an animal spirit.

- They call it totem.
- Very amusing, but I don't understand.

Would you, please?

Don't be afraid.
It doesn't hurt.

You... oskenunda.

Caribou. It's a kind of stag.

Oh, yes, a stag.

And what do you think, my dear?

Am I a stag because of my horns
or because of something else?

And my dear Thomas...
what is his "totem"?

Worm. Bookworm, probably.

- Serpent.
- Serpent?

To the Indians,
the serpent represents wisdom.

Serpent wise.

And you, Laffont?

- His Grace?
- A bull.

Laugh, Laffont.

For these barbarians,
pigs may be the symbol of nobility, eh?

Whose turn now? Sardis?

No.

It's mine. What am I?

Half lion?

Half eagle?

Go on, transform me into a lizard,
Indian, so my arm may grow back.

Jean-Franqois, that's enough!

What's the matter?
Am I in poor taste?

Let me go!

Mademoiselle, would it please you?

Pardon me, sir,
but I've tired of your games...

and I prefer to retire before you begin
juggling or dancing on a ball.

Good night.

This will cheer your spirit, Fronsac.

It certainly isn't Paris,
but it's the best house in Mende...

and you'll sleep better here
than at the inn.

They're all for you, my lords...

and we have a new girl,
very, very...

My dear marquis.

Come.

I'm costly, Gregoire de Fronsac.

Do you know me?

From here, Gevaudan is small.

Italian.

Just passing through the region.

I have money.

You'll need more than just money.

What, then?

Who did this to you?

An Iroquois arrow.

Far from your heart?

I hope so.

I'm a lucky man.

And this?

A bear.

And he didn't like me at all.

You haven't seen anything yet.

My business is dangerous...

and all men are not like you.

Something to remember me by.

None of this scandal in my house!

- Valentine, what is it?
- Madame, I won't sleep with a sorcerer.

- What are you talking about?
- He has snakes on his body.

- Our reputation! You must go.
- It's nothing.

Our friend is an Indian,
not a sorcerer.

- Well, I will not sleep with Indians.
- Your whores are quite delicate.

Come on, girls. Who's going
to take care of the redskin?

Come on, I'll double the price.

- I like his tattoos.
- There we go. All arranged.

So, are you really a sorcerer?

Will you draw my portrait?

If you don't behave.

As the weeks passed,
it became apparent...

that Duhamel's soldiers
could not find the beast.

It was to be our third winter
spent under the beast's reign...

and we knew that the snow
and the cold would not stop it...

any more than our guns
and our dogs.

Remember the warnings of God
sent to us in the words of Moses.

"I shall come unto you like a bear
whose cubs have been ravished.

Like a lion I will devour your children
and tear out their entrails.

I will set upon you
a ferocious beast...

who will consume
you and your flocks...

and turn your fields into deserts."

How long, O Lord,
wouldst thou forsake us?

A candle for each victim.

Is this truly the Age of Reason?

Mercy!

I'll ask forgiveness!

Mercy!

Bless me, Father.

What has happened, my son?

God has punished me.
My children disappeared at Mont Mouchet.

I am damned.

We are all damned!

Gather your men, Marquis.
We're leaving immediately.

Tell Mani.
I'll meet you on the road.

Hello, sir, friend to the wolves.

I have something for you.

I'd like to see you again, Marianne.
Alone.

In ten days.

My mother is going to a retreat
and my father will be in...

- Ten days?
- I am not as free as you.

Bring the torch.

Bring the torch!

A storm is coming.
The men are tired.

We had better go back.

No, we must find the girl.

I found the child!

Captain, the traps with which
you have infested this region...

have killed more peasants
than wolves.

Your men have long been
extorting the population.

And since your hunt,
the wolf has killed 12 times.

I don't understand.
It should never have gotten away.

- What's that?
- It should never have gotten away.

And you, Sir de Fronsac?

Do you know what sort of wolf
we're up against?

Gentlemen...

my only certainty concerning the beast
is that it's not a wolf.

Contrary to popular belief, wolves
do not attack people, or very rarely.

I made a study of them
in New France.

The wolves in this country
are perhaps of a different type.

A rabid wolf would attack anyone.

When an animal is rabid,
it will die within a fortnight...

but the beast has bled
your country dry for two years.

I've seen wounds on the cadavers
that no wolf could inflict.

And I also found
in the body of a victim...

this piece of metal.

And so?

And so...

no animal has fangs of steel.

The beast is not an animal.
So be it.

Then tell us, sir,
how to capture it.

While we speculate,
it's killing our people.

Gentlemen...

I think we should listen to Monsieur
de Fronsac with the utmost attention.

So, sir, according to you...

the beast would not be
an ordinary animal?

We all think the same thing.

And as for me...

I am pleased that you admit
to its supernatural character.

I did not admit to anything, Father.

I have only doubts.

Fronsac, have you anything to add?

No, sir.

Gentlemen, I've just received this
from Paris.

Captain Duhamel,
His Majesty has been informed...

of your failed attempts
to kill the beast...

and he's asked me
to dismiss you from your functions.

You and your men will join your regiment
in Langogne at once.

Monsieur Beauterne, the king's
master-at-arms, is on his way...

and His Majesty has sent him
to kill the ferocious wolf.

He is the only authorized hunter
in the diocese.

Gentlemen.

Have you forgiven me?

Let's say I was curious to know
my totem. Is that how you say it?

I would say a mermaid.

Are you never serious?

I'll ask your redskin.

And the beast...
have you seen it yet?

No.

You don't wish to speak of it?

I have nothing to say
but absurd suppositions...

that will earn me the title
of fool in the king's garden.

If I were to say that the beast
is made up of flesh and steel...

that it could reason
and that it could disappear at will...

what would you think?

That our country air
has affected your head.

As if it were eluding me.

You haven't been here
three months...

and you expect
to have finished already?

Did you think the beast
would surrender when it saw you?

- Perhaps it's frightened of you.
- Am I really that frightening?

A victory that comes dearly
is better savored.

Jean-Franqois tells me
you'd like to go to Africa.

For the moment
it's only a dream of a naturalist...

who's had enough of winter.

And you? Have you never wanted
to know other horizons?

The girls here have
more duties than desires.

Do you see Sardis on the ramparts?

- Are you being watched?
- Oh, no.

He's there to protect me.

Alone with you in this park,
God knows what might happen to me.

Let's go in.
Our priest will catch cold.

Good evening, sir.

Good evening, sir.

You are in love.

I don't know.

I know.

The cards?

I've never had a need for them
for you, my friend.

So let's drink.

To Mademoiselle de Morangias.

What?

Her brother was here last night.

And you slept with him?

Slept with him?
He can't stand to be touched.

He watches, he drinks...

and when he's drunk too much,
he talks in his sleep, like all men.

Do I talk in my sleep?

And I say?

Do you know how Florentine women
keep their husbands at home?

No.

Each morning they slip them
poison, slow poison...

and each evening, the antidote.

The husband
who doesn't come home...

has a very bad night.

A woman like you
has no need of that.

No.

Anyway, we're not married.

Make way for Antoine de Beauterne,
royal master-at-arms...

who has come to rid the country
of the beast.

Sir, I'm Gregoire de Fronsac.

Oh, yes, sent by Buffon.
The royal taxidermist.

Lord Beauterne is staying
at Sir Laffont's.

We're expected at 2:00 precisely.

His Majesty has asked my advice
concerning your report.

Very complicated fables, indeed.

I think the beast is a wolf.

I will ride into the country
tomorrow.

I do not wish you
to accompany me.

And why is that?

It pleases the king
to assign me this matter, young man...

and to let me handle it
as I see fit.

I have no need of you
to terminate this affair.

On the table you will find a letter
signed by the Count de Buffon...

and by our beloved king.

I follow his orders, sir,
but believe me, this is not a wolf.

I've already read your memoir.

Take no more pains
over this beast, my friend.

I'll handle it.

You are dismissed.

Come here. Come.

Come!

It's a woman from Lorcieres.

She was coming back from the fair
when the beast attacked her on the road.

We lost sight of it
at the foot of Mont Mouchet...

as if it vanished into the woods.

Fronsac, the beast
has attacked a girl near St. Alban.

God has punished me. My children
have vanished at Mont Mouchet.

I don't believe in dragons
any more than you do.

Is there much talk of the beast
in Paris?

My only certainty concerning the beast
is that it's not a wolf.

A rabid wolf would attack anyone.

I am pleased that you admit...

No animal has fangs of steel.

Sir, you must come.
Please hurry.

I saw him!

He was using poison
while reciting satanic incantations.

God only knows for how long.

Let him go.

It's an Indian remedy, Father.

Only our prayers may save her.

But... She was...

A miracle!

Tell me:
What happened to your brother?

- A man with the beast?
- Come now.

The child knows not
what she's saying.

Yes, sir, the beast is dead.

Ten bullets.
It never had a chance.

We have brought you
the necessary equipment.

Begin your work at once.

That!

Get to work.
Lord Beauterne is on his way.

- Ridiculous. This is not the beast!
- You must wait for Lord Beauterne!

I don't like your tone, braggart.

Hello, sir.

Leave us.

So, Fronsac,
my beast doesn't please you?

What does all this mean, Beauterne?

That animal is not the beast
and you know it.

Good God! His jaws are two times
the size of these.

- You have all you need here to fix that.
- What do you mean?

As you know, I must bring
the beast back to Paris...

and I have only this wolf,
so you're gonna make me a beast.

- And you hope to make the king...
- No, Fronsac.

I'm carrying out his wishes.

You would be wise to do the same.

- You threaten me, sir.
- At my age? Come now.

You know who I am...

and you are far too intelligent
to be threatened.

If you do your duty,
the king will be very grateful.

If not, he will be
very disappointed.

You have everything you need.
I'm counting on you.

Good-bye for now.

On this historic day...

I would first like to thank
Sir Gregoire de Fronsac...

of His Majesty's Royal Gardens.

The beast of Gevaudan is dead,
thanks to him.

But it is, above all,
thanks to Your Majesty.

Let it be said...

it is you alone who possesses
the sovereign power.

Only an animal can ignore that...

but that animal is no more.

I am deserving of little merit,
in all truth.

Invested with your power...

I had only to appear in Gevaudan...

for the beast
to surrender its life.

Monsieur Laffont,
what is this masquerade?

Beauterne carried out
the orders he received.

We must all do the same,
mustn't we?

- What orders?
- Mine.

Fronsac, may I present
Monsieur Mercier...

special counsel to His Majesty
in charge of affairs of the interior.

It was his idea to send
Antoine de Beauterne to Gevaudan.

So it is to you, sir, that we owe
this prompt victory over the beast.

Your scruples do you honor, Fronsac,
but this is an affair of state.

Have you read this?

You will no longer find this book
for sale, but keep it as a souvenir.

Did you have it censored?

Disguised as a novel, this book
undermines the king's authority.

If we had waited too long, this affair
would have been troublesome.

People are so gullible.

If I understand you, sir...

it is better to lie
than to let lies be spread.

The truth is very complicated.

To govern,
you must make things simple.

The beast was causing a problem.
No more beast... no more problem.

- It will continue to kill.
- No one will hear of the beast again.

That's what counts.

Ah, I'd forgotten.

His Majesty would like
to thank you for all you've done.

It is said you would like
to explore Africa.

In six months a schooner will sail
from Nantes destined for Senegal.

If you so desire,
you may make the voyage.

Of course, we'll never speak again
of Gevaudan, will we, Fronsac?

Well, Fronsac?

Officially, the beast was dead.

What truly happened
cannot be found in history books.

The affair was kept very quiet.

Is he bidding us welcome?

He wants to help us.

Go to the castle.

I'll join you there later.

Fronsac left Mani
to prepare for the hunt.

The beast was not his only reason
for returning to Gevaudan.

What is it?

Where is the home
ofJeanne and Pierre Roulier?

Go straight on.
It's the last house in the village.

Calm down.

This is Jeanne.

My nanny.

Pierre, go fetch some wine.

My mother is having me watched.
Perhaps they know you've returned.

To hell with your family.
I'll tear you away from them.

I can't stand my mother anymore.
NorJean-Franqois.

I want to go far away from here.

In one week
I'll bring you to Paris.

Why wait?

I'm leaving again for the hunt.

- I promised the marquis.
- I thought you had returned for me.

Marianne, leave... slowly!

Look at me!

Come on!

What's going on here?

My God!

Tell me, Fronsac:

Do you really think
we'll find the beast?

- I thought we would have more men.
- Mani knows what he's doing.

I'm hunting a man.

- A man?
- The beast is only an instrument.

A weapon in the hands
of a sick mind.

- An assassin would be more secretive.
- Quite right, Marquis.

The first mystery of the beast
is its celebrity.

Its master wants people to talk.

- He wants to make noise and frighten us.
- What do you mean?

This book is sold
throughout the kingdom.

The author maintains
that the beast has come...

to punish the king for his indulgence
of the philosophers.

- Just gossip. Who's the author?
- That I don't know.

But the beast has a master,
and it's him that I want.

Perhaps your weapon
will be useful...

but only in your hands, Marquis.

And you, Mani?

Which will you choose?

Mani doesn't like firearms.

Too much noise,
too much smoke...

very bad smell.

Everything will be fine,
Grandfather.

Don't you worry.

We're well prepared.

Tell me about the Americas.

The Americas?

Will you ever return?

Bad memories.

And Mani?
Does he not miss his tribe?

His tribe no longer exists.

Before our attack, the pox
had already decimated his village.

We'd received orders
to execute all the survivors.

The women and the children.

Only Mani escaped.

How?

My captain wanted
a Mohawk interpreter.

I was to teach him our language...

and three weeks later I find him
slitting the captain's throat.

Why didn't you turn him in?

You know how that man
fought his battles.

He gave his scouts the infected sheets
from a hospital in Quebec.

The Iroquois bought them
and fell sick.

Three weeks later
we finished off the job.

Is that how war is fought?

In any case,
that's how we lost.

Where did Mani go?

- To speak to the trees.
- To the trees?

The trees speak.

White man does not know
how to listen... or to see.

See what, Mani?

You want to learn?

- What's that?
- An Indian sacrament.

At your own risk, Marquis.

- What does it do?
- It depends on the person.

The Indians say you see
what cannot be seen.

Well, Mani?

The beast is in the forest.

- The wolves will help us.
- I don't see anything.

Tonight we will dance
the dance of blood...

and the beast will come to us
with the sun.

I feel nothing.

It's not doing anyth...

That night, Mani called forth
the spirits of the forest...

in a language that even the knight
himself did not understand...

and the wolves brought them
to the beast.

Don't worry.
I'll take care of this.

It's all right, Pretty.

I'll heal you.

I'll take care of you.

Thomas is asleep.

He very nearly died.

I'm so sorry for the Indian.

What is over there?

Tell me: What is that house?
I need to know.

It's a domain, a hunting domain.

Monsieur, you are in need of rest.

Fronsac returned to Mani's body.

His vengeance was
far from being exacted.

But according to Indian custom,
it was at the first light of dawn...

that he could best help his friend
join his ancestors.

What do you want?

Far too much blood has been shed.

You're in great peril if you don't
leave the province immediately.

I have no intention of leaving.
I have a matter to settle.

Is it worth risking your life?

How long have you known?

I don't know
what you're talking about.

You're lying, Sardis.
Come on.

How could you have let this happen?

No one will believe you.

Leave here at once.

God bless you.

And may the devil take your soul.

Sir, you're under arrest.

By virtue of the powers invested
in me by Monsieur Laffont...

I must ask you to follow us
without resistance.

This is ridiculous, Lieut...

- Chief, there's a lady here to see you.
- Later. Tonight.

- Get up. You have a visitor.
- I'm no longer a secret?

Depend's from whom, my friend.

So sorry.

Bring some dinner to your guest.

How did you...

Many owe me favors.

You must help me. I must
write to the king. You have no idea.

Even if I help you, you'll be hanged
before your letter arrives.

That can't be.
I haven't yet been judged.

Here.

- What do you know of the beast?
- It's a trained animal.

Covered in armor.

I wounded him.

Since when does this interest you?

Two years ago,
a confidential letter from Sardis...

was given to the pope.

It announced the creation
of a secret society...

whose goal, let's say...

was to spread and defend
the word of the church...

by all possible means.

The Brotherhood.

Sardis!

He will use the beast.

The beast is a warning to the king.

"Respect the power of God
or risk the apocalypse."

The members call themselves
the Wolves of God.

The brotherhood works
for the church?

Sardis works for himself.

Enlightenment has driven him mad...

and Rome has no control
over his organization.

And who do you work for?

Those who employ me also pay me
to keep that information silent.

And you know enough already.

Mademoiselle de Morangias,
to what do I owe this honor?

How fares your mother,
Madame the Countess?

I pray you, please sit down.

And your father?
Still taking the cure?

That man loves his rich food.

Sir Laffont, you have arrested
Gregoire de Fronsac.

Yes.

Who would have thought
that he could have fallen so low?

- He is neither thief nor assassin.
- Oh, really?

I must say...

Sir de Fronsac
surely had his reasons.

Perhaps those men killed
the Indian that accompanied him.

Mademoiselle,
that has nothing to do with it.

And even so...

one does not seek vengeance for
a savage by spilling Christian blood.

I want to visit him.

That's impossible.

Very well.

We will see what they think
of all this in Paris.

Marianne, you don't understand.

Fronsac died.

During the night.

In any case,
he would have been hanged.

On reflection, he was lucky.

You were responsible
for that man's life.

Perhaps he suffocated...

or perhaps he caught the plague
from his mattress.

You're lying. You're all lying.

Have courage, my child.
It is the will of God.

Father.

Come. I'll escort you home.

Mademoiselle would do well
to get some rest.

Come.

- Leave me here.
- You can do nothing for him now.

He's beginning to smell.

Let us bury him quickly
in an unmarked grave.

She has threatened to speak
to the king this time.

She's dangerous.

They buried Gregoire de Fronsac
that very night...

long before the news of his death
had reached Paris.

No one really knew what secrets
the knight took with him to his grave.

For several days,
the beast ceased to kill.

But the sudden disappearance
of its most relentless adversary...

seemed to be a dark omen.

Quickly.

Bless me, Father,
for I have sinned.

Forgive me.

Marianne...
day and night I think of her.

Her heart beats in my breast
every moment.

I want her by our side, Sardis.

The Lord is testing you.

But you know not what I endure.

Those visions.

Those damn visions
torment me incessantly.

Deliver me, Father.

Deliver me from evil, I beg you.

For the evil within you
there is only one remedy.

No.

Don't drink that, little sister.

They want to kill you...

but I will stop them.

But who, Jean-Franqois?

Who?

We're going to leave,
just you and me.

Would you like to see America?

You made me suffer, you know,
but I forgive you.

Please, what are you doing?

Where are you going?

Stay.

Do you think I would harm you?

Don't come any closer, please.

Marianne, I need you.

It was you who saved me
when I was ill and no one else.

It was your face I saw
when I woke from my nightmares.

It was your hand on my forehead
that chased away the demons.

You cannot imagine what I have done
to keep you close to me.

I beg you, don't push me away.

Tell me why.

Do I disgust you?

You don't frighten me.
Leave me alone.

Is it because of this?

Don't worry.

From now on,
I will take care of you.

Look.

No one knows...

but Sardis and I.

Leave. Get out of here!

But why?

You are not my brother.

It was another
who returned from Africa.

Yes, that's true, but it was
because of you that I left.

Marianne, without you,
none of this would have happened.

None of this!

It's your smell.

It's your damned blood
that the beast smelled on me!

Yes.

We have the same blood, Marianne.

When Father comes home...

he'll kill you.

And what if I kill him?
He's come between us for so long.

Go on, do it! Go on.

Why didn't you do it?

It isn't as difficult as all that.
Look.

- Stop.
- So do you love me?

Marianne, I love you!

Brothers, the Lord
has made it known to me...

the beast will return...

to herald the rebirth of our morality
in this kingdom of decadence...

and a new France shall be born.

We shall be the invisible princes...

for God is with us.

Dominus nobiscum.

The people have yet to see
the true wrath of God.

The unjust censure of the king...

cannot withstand
the rage of the population...

and when that rage is at its peak...

we may then bargain with the king.

If he has failed
to dominate the beast...

imagine, brothers, what shall happen
if all the provinces in the kingdom...

were then attacked
by other beasts.

The hour approaches
when we shall reap what we have sown.

Let us read the Book of Malachi.

"The lips of the priest shall be
the depository of science...

and from His mouth he shall gain
the knowledge of the law...

for he is the angel of God."

"If one among you worships
the beast or its image...

he shall drink the wine
of God's wrath...

and he shall be tormented in fire...

and brimstone before the angels...

and the smoke of his torment
shall rise to the century of centuries."

I have returned
to name you before God.

Pierre-Jean Laffont.

Genevieve de Morangias.

Maxime des Forets.

Gontrand de Moncan.

Henri Sardis.

Jean-Franqois de Morangias.

Amen.

You damn sons of whores,
you're all under arrest!

You may be a ghost...

but I will cut you in two.

You see?
You no longer need to hold back.

I have no intention of doing so.

Too late, Fronsac.
The beast is immortal now.

It, perhaps... but not you.

Sardis has trained you
as you have trained the beast.

How did you find out?

You sign your crimes
with a silver bullet!

Marianne, look!

Marianne's not here, you madman.

You have united us forever, Fronsac.

Bind these bastards up
one by one, men.

Will you look at them, huh?

You're not so high and mighty now,
are you? Where are you going?

- He's dead.
- Now it's certain.

And Sardis?

Wherever he goes,
we will find him...

or the mountains
will take care of him.

Shall we celebrate
our success properly?

You've already killed me once.

The better to revive you.

I could present you to the pope.

Will you come with me?

Too late.

I like you, Fronsac.

You helped me forget my duties.

Leave here before I change my mind.

Marquis!

What is it?

It's Marianne.
I've had her brought home.

She's dying.

No!

Leave! Get out!

Go on, all of you!

Marianne, wake up.

Forgive me.

I love you.

Many years have passed...

but I have never forgotten...

Gregoire de Fronsac
and Marianne de Morangias.

The world that created the beast
is no more...

and I must hasten,
for my story is also ending.

I can still remember
accompanying Fronsac...

to the secret lair
ofJean-Franqois de Morangias...

where the beast awaited its fate.

The old healer told us all he knew.

Jean-Franqois had brought
a strange beast back from Africa...

who had cubs.

He kept only one... the strongest...

and with patience and cruelty...

he trained the beast
to be vicious.

Thus died the beast of Gevaudan...

and I, Thomas d'Apcher...

I am the last to know the truth.

Off with his head!

Fronsac invited me
to follow him to Africa...

but the province needed rebuilding.

I was beholden to my people,
to my lands.

I have often thought
of Gregoire and Marianne...

throughout all these peaceful years
that have been my life.

I never saw them again...

but it pleases me to think
they lived their lives happily...

far away from here.

THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF