All language subtitles for Brotherhood.Of.The.Wolf.Directors.Cut.2001.1080p.BluRay.x264.AAC-ETRG.en

Milord, time is short.
Leave now, I beg you.

- You'll be arrested.
- Fetch some candles.

- I'll be working late.
- But, milord...

And my usual glass of wine.

This world had to change.

But the revolution
is sweeping the land...

and now it's my turn
to be swept aside.

Old prejudices make men blind,
drive them mad...

devour his heart,
and turn him into a Beast.

In the year 1764...

the Beast reached our soil,
and made it hers.

A year later, her fame had spread
beyond the borders of our province.

It seemed no mortal
would ever overcome her.

The Beast's assaults...

slowly sank the region
of G�vaudan into darkness.

Quiet.

Who goes there?

What�s he done?

- What?
- He's a thief.

- And her?
- His daughter. Damned witch!

- I healed their horses. They owe me.
- Don't listen. All liars!

- Did he heal the horses?
- Yes.

Begone!

Welcome to the land of the Beast!
Beware of wolf traps!

Sir Gr�goire de Fronsac...

and the man they called Mani,
were neither hunters nor soldiers.

A naturalist
at the King's Garden...

Fronsac was a libertine
and a fine wit.

The man who shadowed him
was a mysterious foreigner.

Nothing was known about him.

At nightfall, the travelers arrived
at the castle of Marquis d'Apcher...

their protector in G�vaudan
for the duration of their mission.

Our people fear no ordinary wolf.
The Beast is different.

She flees men
as if she knew to fear them...

yet spares no woman or child.

- Have you ever seen it?
- No.

How do you know
it 's just one animal?

The survivors all say the same...

she's bigger than a wolf,
and has no fear of firearms.

I understand your skepticism,
Fronsac.

I don't believe in dragons either.
I've had a report drawn up...

a memoir of the Beast 's crimes.

Judge for yourself.

You battled the English
in New France?

Yes. I went to study
animals and nature.

I returned with wounds
and a Captain's rank.

I've organized a hospital for victims
of the Beast in an old priory.

A woman from Lorci�re. On her way
from the fair, the Beast attacked.

Two men saved her, the Beast fled.
But took half her face.

Tell me, how is M. Buffon?

And how fares Paris?

And L'Ingenu?
Have you read it?

It 's a bit late
to discuss philosophy.

Quite right.
Lets speak of theater.

Do you know any actresses?
What 's in the theater this winter?

Put it there.
A gallant lot, it 's said.

I've read some offer their charms.

Do tell me.

Here, to satisfy your curiosity.

The Mercure de France!
We only get the Courrier d'Avignon.

- I'll show you the common room.
- He'll stay here.

Very well.
Good night, sir.

Not Versailles,
but the wine's good.

It 's big as a cow.

Jacques says he's seen many wolves.
It 's no wolf.

Its snout is longer,
its teeth are like knives.

If not a wolf,
what was it then?

- A demon.
- Chevalier!

The Beast has struck near St. Alban.

There.

- Calm down, there's no one there.
- Halt!

What are those bastards doing here?

Good day, Captain.

Good day, Marquis.
My respects.

Beware.
There are traps everywhere.

Duhamel, Sir Gr�goire De Fronsac,
of the King's Gardens.

He'd like to examine her body.
With your permission, of course.

The one who brutalized my men?

- Had I known you ordered...
- I did not.

You did well,
and I beg your pardon.

They're soldiers.
Trained for war, not hunting.

Careful, she's stuffed
with poison.

What sort of gardener are you?

When the Beast is killed, His
Majesty wants it studied in Paris.

I'll keep it after it 's captured.
I'm having a look.

With that jaw,
it must weigh 5OO pounds.

This time, I'll get it.
Before the snows.

It can't get away.

- Ever seen it?
- Once.

Once, in my musket sight.
I wounded her, my word on it.

She collapsed,
then at once revived.

We lost her near Mount Mouchet.
Vanished in the wood.

Did it look like this?

She had a black stripe
and spike on her back.

My friends...

I present you the sketch artist...

Sir Gr�goire De Fronsac...

a man of Providence indeed,
come from Paris to...

sketch the Beast.

His Eminence, Bishop of Mende...

the Duke De Moncan...

the Count De Morangias,
and Madame the Countess...

and their son Jean-Fran�ois,
who's also traveled.

- A clever hand, sir.
- Thank you, sir.

M. Laffont, our Intendent...

Father Henri Sardis,
of St. Alban's.

Tell us, sir, is there talk
of the Beast in Paris?

- They've written ballads.
- Prayers would do better!

Does Capt. Duhamel so need God?

Don't we all?

Duhamel just dresses his men
as women to bait the Beast.

- He's doing what he can.
- Such indulgence.

Duhamel is incompetent!

His hunts exhaust the people,
his ruffians devastate our land...

and the Beast roams free.

If Duhamel is all I get
for paying my taxes to Paris...

I'd rather give it to my valets.

- What do you say, sir?
- You're not obliged to reply.

His Lordship likes to argue,
but he's a good Christian.

When you arrived, this assembly
was talking my ears off...

with God this and God that.
It 's said the Pope sent a spy...

to see if the Beast is
a manifestation of the Devil.

Pardon me.

Marianne De Morangias.
A daunting task indeed.

- Most elusive quarry in our land.
- Who's the hapless hunter?

Des F�rets, a playwright.

- Then it 's simple.
- Careful, she's a Morangias.

- Milady...
- Sir, we were conferring...

- M. Des F�rets?
- Himself.

An honor.
Good writers are rare.

- Marquis D'Apcher spoke of you.
- Marquis...

- He thought of you for his memoirs.
- Really?

He's in good spirits.
But have some finesse.

More importantly, wait until
he broaches the subject.

Excuse me, milady.

- Have you no shame?
- None.

Does the naturalist
like our country?

I've only so far glimpsed
its beauties. Or one of them.

Is such the talk of court?

No, this is a couplet
reserved for provincials.

I might go to court
if there were ladies like you.

Dinner is served.

- Let 's go in.
- Whither thou goest...

In sailing up the St. Lawrence,
we found in our nets...

the strangest animal
I'd ever seen.

I'd heard of the
native's sacred fish...

but I was sure it was a legend.

I was looking at a fish,
the shape and size of a trout...

but which was entirely covered
in a rich black fur.

A furry trout?
Surely you jest.

No, sir.

Salmo Truta Dermopilla,
from Canada.

Soft as mink.

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

Which proves the impossible
may be possible.

- Well said.
- It surely won you the King's favor.

I doubt he deserves it. Though I do
recognize your talent for acting.

Had I two hands, I'd applaud.

Enough, Fran�ois.

- Please pardon him.
- Your son is right.

This animal does not exist.

My taxidermist is a clever man.

Please excuse the prank.

Should this fable convince us
there is no Beast?

- That we're simpletons?
- The moral of the fable, milady...

is that dragons and unicorns
only appear in fables.

Lies appear true dressed in Latin.

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

Indeed, are you a naturalist
or a philosopher?

Or worse, an actor!

I believe the knight
is mostly Parisian.

Enough talk of the Beast
which prays on peasants.

How about a guessing game?
Charades?

I've just composed a lover's lament.
May l, Countess?

- Lf it isn't licentious?
- Oh, no.

It 's very chaste and pure.
It 's an improvisation. It 's called...

"Wolves Howl".

I went not warily.
Though I bore no malice, verily.

Your sly eye caught my heart
in its prowl!

I howl! I howl! I howl!

- Shall I see you soon?
- Another tall tale to amaze me?

You seem set in your idea of me.

- Allow me to change your mind.
- Try.

- Coming to the hunt?
- Certainly.

I can't allow it.
Too dangerous.

Obedience is the virtue
of well-born girls.

This young man is right.

That day in G�vaudan...

there was the greatest hunt
ever in France.

The King offered 6,OOO pounds
bounty for the Beast.

Thousands of enlisted peasants,
swordsmen and soldiers...

but also every hunter
and adventurer in the region.

For a few hours,
we forgot we were the hunted.

You each have a map and a location.
Movements begin at seven.

- Thank you.
- You might well thank us!

- My people have better things to do.
- Your generosity rivals your courage.

Enough. For your sake,
we'd better take her.

We shall, your Lordship.

What is this ruckus?

Fine weapon, isn't it?

I had it made in Mende,
after a campaign.

Custom-made for me, of course.

Look. Even in Paris
you'll never see such a bullet.

- I make them myself.
- Silver? Afraid of werewolves?

No, but I like to sign my shots.

I'm a hunter, Fronsac.
And it 's cost me dearly.

How did it happen?

I learned the hard way that
one bullet won't always suffice.

And, Sardis notwithstanding,
prayer won't cure gangrene.

- Did a bear injure you?
- A lion.

Yes, two years in the Navy,
I traveled a lot.

Do you know Africa?

My lords,
my daughter caused all this.

Here.
Punish her as you will.

Witch!

She's a daughter of the Devil!

- A demon's got her!
- She's ill! She's ill!

She's not possessed!
She's not possessed!

Burn her!

She mustn't swallow her tongue.
She'd suffocate.

- She's not possessed. She's not...
- I know.

Naturalist, philosopher
and a bonesetter as well?

Very good.

She didn't show.
I won the bet.

Marquis...

And the natives?

Superstitious brutes,
like here.

Indian hunters eat the hearts
of their prey, for strength.

Are they brutes then?

In Africa,
it 's their enemies' hearts.

My lord Count Jean-Fran�ois.

You must move east.

- There you are.
- Your mother will be worried.

She always is.
If I listened, I'd be in a convent.

I know you don't believe.
A libertine.

- Not when I'm in love.
- You're in love?

Ridiculous.
We've hardly met.

You thought I meant you?

Marianne!

She must learn to ride
like a lady.

No harm in a little exercise.

- My father sees no evil.
- My son sees only that.

People died here.

How do you know?

- I hear their cries.
- Mani, stop it.

He's right.
This was a Templar stronghold.

25 heretics were burned alive
in the chapel.

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

You need but look.

My brother and I played here.

Were you not afraid?

He protected me from ghosts.

- No taste for the hunt?
- That a crime here?

For Indians,
a portrait steals the soul.

My soul, too, interests you?

On foot at a hunt?

- My fault.
- I didn't ask you.

- What possessed you?
- It 's only a wolf.

- Lf it were the Beast?
- I don't think so, Marianne.

Thank you.

Pray the Beast is
one of these wolves.

These won't devour anyone now.

Curious fellow.

- Where did you find him?
- New France.

- Is he an Acadian?
- An Indian. A Mohawk Iroquois.

An Indian? A real one?
He doesn't look it.

Come to St. Alban tonight.
We'll have fun with your valet.

- He's not my valet.
- What then?

He's my brother.

Really! Mixing your blood...

with that of a savage?

No savage shares one's hardship.

Mani saved me from the English
at Trois Rivi�res.

I thought the savages
were cannibals.

As you can see, sir,
Mani is no animal.

Can you reproduce
with a woman of our race?

All women are the same color,
when candles blow out.

- Yes, father, they even have wit.
- Indians and whites had children.

We're one species.

Don't speak too soon.
A little like the Negro.

What say you, Sardis?

Your "blood brother"
is God's child. Baptized him?

- He hasn't asked.
- You are a man of your times.

Mani has his beliefs.
At home, he was a sort of...

a sort of priest.

If they have priests,
they're doomed.

What are these beliefs?

Each man has an animal spirit,
called a totem.

Amusing.
How's it work?

Mani, would you?

Never fear, it won't hurt.

Caribou.
A sort of stag.

All right.
What says my wife?

Am I a stag in every sense,
or only on an animal level?

And my dear Thomas.
What 's his totem?

Worm.
Bookworm probably.

- Snake.
- Snake?

- For Indians, it embodies wisdom.
- The snake is wise.

And our Intendent?

Boar.

Lighten your spirit.

For these barbarians
the pig is perhaps nobility.

- Who's next? Sardis?
- No.

And me?
What am l, a semi-lion?

Half an eagle?

Come on, make me lizard,
that my arm may grow back.

Jean-Fran�ois, enough.

What?
Have I been gauche?

Let me be. Let me be.

Mademoiselle, your turn?

Pardon me,
but I'm weary of your tricks.

I'll retire before you begin
juggling or dancing on a ball.

Good night.

It'll cheer you, Fronsac.

It 's the best house in Mende.
You'll sleep better than at the Inn.

They're all for you.
And the new girl is very...

Dear little Marquis.
Come.

I'm expensive,
Gr�goire De Fronsac.

- Do you know me?
- From here, G�vaudan seems tiny.

- Italian?
- Just passing through.

I have money.

It 's not only a matter of money.

What then?

Follow me.

- Who did that to you?
- An Iroquois arrow.

- Not far from the heart.
- I may be a lucky man.

And that?

A bear.

He didn't care much for me.

You haven't seen anything yet.

My business is dangerous.

Some men aren't so nice.

Something to remember me by.

A scandal! In my house!

- Valentine, what happened?
- I don't lay with sorcerers.

- What?!
- Snakes on him. I saw them move.

Our reputation!
You have to go.

It 's nothing.
He's an Indian, not a sorcerer.

- Then no Indians!
- Delicate whores!

Come on, girls.
Who will go with our redskin?

I'll double the fee.

- I like his tattoos.
- That settles that.

So, a sorcerer, are we?

Will you do my portrait?

If you don't behave.

Weeks passed, and Duhamel's men
couldn't find the Beast.

A third winter would be spent
under her reign.

Neither the snow, nor our rifles,
nor our dogs could stop her.

Recall how God warned us
through the words of Moses.

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

As a lion, I shall devour your
children and spill their entrails.

I will set upon ye
a fearsome Beast...

to consume you and your flocks,
make your fields barren."

How long, oh Lord,
wouldst Thou forsake us?

A candle for each victim?
Is this truly the Age of Reason?

Have mercy!

Forgive me.

Have mercy.

Bless me.

What is it, my son?

God has punished me. She snatched
my children on Mt. Mouchet.

I'm damned. We all are!

Gather your men.
We must leave.

Alert Mani.
I'll catch you on the way!

Marianne!

The wolves' friend.

I have something for you.

I want to see you, Marianne.
Alone.

In 1O days my mother's going
in retreat and my father to a cure.

- 1O days?
- I'm not as free as you.

The torch!

Bring the torch!

The storm is rising.
The men are tired.

- We'd best go home.
- No. We must find the girl.

I found the child!

Captain, your web of traps
snare more peasants than wolves.

Your men have plundered
the population.

And since you began, the wolf
has taken 12 more lives.

I don't understand.
She should never have escaped us.

- How's that?
- She should never have escaped us.

What say you, Fronsac?

Could you tell us
what sort of wolf is this?

Gentlemen...

my only certainty
is that this is no wolf.

Wolves don't attack men, or very
rarely. I saw it in New France.

Perhaps our wolves are different.
A rabid wolf will attack.

And dies within a fortnight.
For 2 years, the Beast has run.

Her victims bear wounds
no wolf could inflict.

I've often found upon the body
a piece of this metal.

- So?
- So...

no animal has fangs of iron.

Then the Beast is no animal?
Fine.

- How do we catch her?
- While we speculate, she kills.

Gentlemen, let us hear M. De Fronsac
with utmost attention.

So you say, sir,
this is no ordinary animal.

We all think so.
And for myself...

I'm pleased you concede
this is something supernatural.

I concede nothing, Father.
I have only doubts.

- Anything to add?
- No, gentlemen.

I've received this from Paris.

His Majesty, informed of
your ineffective efforts...

requests you be relieved.

You and your men are
to return to Langogne at once.

M. De Beauterne, Master at Arms,
is on his way.

His mandate is to kill
this ferocious wolf.

He alone is authorized to hunt
in the diocese.

Gentlemen...

- Then I'm forgiven?
- I was curious to know my totem.

- Is that the word?
- I would guess...

mermaid.

Are you never serious?
I'll ask your redskin.

And the Beast?
Have you spotted her?

- Forbidden subject?
- My absurd assumptions...

would get me laughed out
of King's Garden.

If I said the Beast
is flesh and iron mixed...

that it 's possessed of reason
and may disappear at will...

...what would you say?
- Country air has affected your mind.

- She's eluding me.
- You expected to finish in 3 months?

Should the Beast have surrendered?
Perhaps she's afraid of you.

- Am I so fearsome?
- Hard-won victory is better savored.

Is it true you're going to Africa?

For now it 's but
a naturalist 's winter dream.

And you?
Ever yearn for new horizons?

A lady has more duties
than yearnings.

- Do you see Sardis over there?
- Watching over you?

Looking out for me. Alone with you,
God knows what could happen.

Let 's go inside.
Our priest might catch cold.

Good evening, sir.

- Good evening, sir!
- Good evening, sir!

- You're in love.
- I don't know.

- I do.
- The cards?

I've never needed them for you.

So let 's drink.

To Mademoiselle De Morangias.

- What?
- Her brother was here.

You slept with him?

He can't stand to be touched.

He watches, he drinks.

Then he talks in his sleep
like all men.

Do I?

What do I say?

"Again!" "Again!"

Know how Florentine women
keep their husbands home?

No.

Each morning, they give them
a slow poison...

and every evening the antidote. That
way, when the husband sleeps away...

he has a very bad night.

You needn't resort to that.

No.

Anyway, we aren't married.

M. De Beauterne, master-of-arms,
has been sent...

to eliminate the Beast
from our land!

- Sir, I am Gr�goire De Fronsac.
- Yes, Buffon's envoy.

The naturalist embalmer.

M. De Beauterne is at
the Intendent 's. Come at 2.

His Majesty asked my advice
about your report.

Complicated fables indeed!

I believe the Beast is a wolf.

I shall go out for it tomorrow.
I would rather you didn't come.

Why is that?

The King left this affair to me,
and to my sole discretion.

I have no need of you to end it.

On the table, there's a letter
from Buffon and our beloved King.

I'm at his service, but believe me,
this is not a wolf.

I've read your report. Trouble
yourself no longer. It 's my affair.

You may go.

Come here.

A woman from Lorci�re, coming
from the fair, was attacked.

Near Mt. Mouchet,
she vanished in the wood.

The Beast attacked in St. Alban.

God punished me for my sins.
My children perished at Mt. Mouchet.

...no more than I believe in...

- It devoured her face...
- Little we know about the Beast.

- We just know it is dangerous.
- The Beast is no animal.

It does not matter
how you capture her.

No animal has iron fangs.

Sir, come at once!

I saw him!

Dispensing poison
and saying Satanic incantations!

God knows for how long!

Let him go.

- An Indian remedy, Father.
- Only our prayers may save her.

But she was...

- A miracle.
- What happened to your brother?

- A man with the Beast?
- The child is incoherent.

Yes, the Beast is dead.

No cure for 1O gut shots.

We've brought your things.
Begin at once.

- It 's not the Beast.
- To work, no delay.

- Ridiculous! This is not the Beast.
- M. De Beauterne is coming.

- Watch your lip!
- Good morning. Leave us.

What is it?
Don't you like my Beast?

What is this?
You know it 's not the Beast.

- Her jaw is twice as large.
- You can fix that here.

- What?
- Paris awaits. I have only this wolf.

So make me a Beast.

- To fool the King?
- No, Fronsac.

I carry out his will.
You'd be wise to do as much.

- Is that a threat, sir?
- At my age? Come now, you know me.

You're too smart for threats.

Do your duty,
the King will be grateful.

Otherwise, he'll be quite upset.

You have what you need. I'm
counting on you. Good-bye for now.

On this historic day, thanks be
to Sir Gr�goire De Fronsac...

of King's Garden.

The Beast 's end is partly his.

But it is mostly
thanks to your Majesty.

Let that be known.

In your sole person
resides sovereign power.

Only a beast could ignore it.

That Beast is no more.

I have only little merit.

Your power bestowed upon me,
I merely needed to appear...

and the Beast laid down her arms.

M. Buffon, what is this?

Beauterne's carried out his orders.
As we all should.

- What orders?
- Mine.

This is M. Mercier...

special counsel to his Majesty
for domestic matters.

It was his idea to send
Antoine de Beauterne.

You're to thank
for this prompt victory?

Admirable scruples,
but it 's for the greater good.

Have you read this?

Not for sale, but you may keep it.

- It was banned?
- A fable undermining the King.

Any longer, we'd have had trouble.
People are so gullible.

Better to lie than
let lies be spread?

Truth is a complicated thing.
One must govern by simplicity.

No more Beast, no more problem.

- She'll go on killing.
- Without acclaim. It 's what counts.

I was forgetting.
His Majesty is most thankful.

It 's said you want to go to Africa.

In six months, a schooner
sets sail for Senegal.

If you wish, you'll be aboard.

Of course, we'll never speak
of G�vaudan again.

Very well, Fronsac.

Officially, the Beast was dead.

What really happened
appears in no history book.

It was carefully hushed up.

- Is he welcoming us?
- He wants to help us.

Go to the castle.
I'll meet you there later.

Fronsac had Mani prepare the hunt.

The Beast was not his only reason
for coming back.

What is it?

The Roulier house, please?

Straight on.
Last in the village.

This is Jeanne...

my nanny.

- This is M. Fronsac.
- Pierre, fetch some wine.

I'm being watched.
They might know you're back.

I'll tear you away from your family.

I can't bear my mother,
nor Jean-Fran�ois.

- I want to leave.
- In a week, we'll go to Paris.

- Why wait?
- The hunt. I promised the Marquis.

You didn't return for me?

No!

Look out!

Leave!
Slowly, don't run!

Over here! Look at me!
Come here!

This way! Hey!

- Gr�goire!
- Go, Marianne!

No!

What is going on here?
Open up!

Open up!

Tell me, do you really think
we'll find this Beast?

- We're short of men.
- Mani's able.

I'm hunting a man.

A man?

The Beast is a weapon
serving a sick mind.

- A killer works in secret.
- Quite.

The Beast 's mystery is its fame.

Her master seeks fear and noise.

- How's that?
- This book is sold all over.

It says the Beast is punishing
the King's indulgence...

...in philosophers.
- Well, well. Who wrote it?

I don't know, but the Beast
has a master. I want him.

Perhaps your weapon will help.

With you the carrier!

And you, Mani?
Which will you choose?

- Mani doesn't like firearms.
- Too much noise and smoke.

Bad smell.

All will go well, Grandfather.

Don't worry.
We're well prepared.

Tell me of the Americas.

The Americas?

Will you never go back?

- Not all my memories are fond ones.
- And Mani? Does he miss his tribe?

His tribe is no more.

Before our attack,
the pox had decimated his village.

Orders were to execute survivors.
The women and the children, too.

Only Mani escaped.

- How?
- We needed an interpreter.

I was to teach him our language.
I found him slaying the Captain.

Why not turn him in?

Know how the Captain waged battle?

He gave his scouts
infected hospital sheets.

The Iroquois bought them.
Three weeks later, we'd mop up.

- And that 's our war?
- It was our defeat.

Where did he go?

- To speak to the trees.
- Trees?

Trees can speak.

The white man
cannot listen or see.

See what, Mani?

- Want to learn?
- What 's this?

An Indian sacrament.
You're on your own, Marquis.

- What does it do?
- Depends on the person.

They say they see the invisible.

Well, Mani?

The Beast is in the forest.

- The wolves will help us.
- I see no better.

This night we shall dance
the dance of blood.

And the Beast shall come to us
with the sun.

It has no effect on me.
It has...

That night, Mani invoked spirits
of the woods in a language...

even Fronsac couldn't understand.

And the wolves
brought them the Beast.

Don't worry, I'll fix this for you.

Don't worry, girl.
I'll see to you.

I'll take care of you.

Thomas is asleep.

A close call.

- I'm sorry for the Indian.
- What is there?

Tell me, what manor is this?
I need to know.

It 's a domain.
A hunting ground.

Sir, you need rest.

Let 's go!

Fire!

He's over there.
Come on!

Fronsac returned
by the Indian's side.

His revenge had hardly begun.

But Indian custom required that,
at dawn's first light...

he be sent to his ancestors.

- What do you want?
- Too much blood has been spilled.

You're in great peril here.

I have business to attend.

Is it worth your life?

- How long have you known?
- I don't know what you mean.

Come now, Sardis. How?

- How did it get this far?
- No one will believe you.

Go away, Sardis.

May God save you.

May the Devil take you.

You're under arrest.
By order of the Intendent...

...please offer no resistance.
- That 's ridiculous.

Have mercy!

- A lady to see you.
- Later. Tonight.

Have mercy, please.

- Get up. You've got company.
- Aren't I in solitary confinement?

Depends for whom.

Marianne?

I'm sorry.

Bring your guest some dinner.

- How did you manage...
- Many owe me favors.

Help me.
I must write to the King.

You might as well write, but you'd
be hung before he read your letter.

I don't understand.
I've yet to stand trial.

Here.

- Tell me of the Beast.
- A trained animal.

Cloaked in armor. I wounded it.

- Why the sudden interest?
- Two years ago...

a confidential letter from Sardis
was given to the Pope.

It spoke of a newly founded
secret society...

whose purpose was to speak
and defend, by any means...

the word of the Church.

The "Brotherhood."

Sardis.
He was using the Beast.

The Beast is
a warning to the King:

"Heed the power of the Lord
or suffer Apocalypse."

Members are known
as "wolves of God."

It serves the Church?

Sardis serves only himself. These
wild times have made him mad.

The group is beyond Rome's control.

In whose employ are you?

My duties include
never letting that be known.

And you...
You know quite enough.

Mile De Morangias, what an honor.

How fares the Countess?
Please sit down.

And your father? Still in cure?

He's too fond of rich food.

Sir, I've heard
you've arrested Fronsac.

Such a man, how far he's fallen.

- He's neither bandit nor murderer.
- Really?

Listen,
he must've had his reasons.

- Lf they killed the Indian...
- That 's another matter.

You don't avenge a savage
with Christian blood.

May I visit him?

Impossible.

Very well.
Paris shall hear of this.

You don't understand.
Fronsac passed away.

Last night.

In any case, they'd have hung him.

Upon reflection, he was lucky.

- He was in your custody.
- Perhaps he choked.

- Or caught a blight in the mattress.
- You're lying.

You're all lying!

Courage, my child,
it 's the will of God.

- Father...
- Marianne, come.

- I'll escort you home.
- She needs rest.

- Let 's go.
- No!

- Let me alone!
- There's nothing you can do.

He's already reeking. Bury him
quickly in an unmarked grave.

She threatened to go to the King.
That girl is dangerous.

Fronsac was buried
that very night...

long before news of his death
reached Paris.

No one knew what secrets
he took to his grave.

For several days,
the Beast did not strike.

But the sudden disappearance
of her most dauntless foe...

seemed of darkest portent.

Come on.

Hurry.

Father, I'm guilty,
I have sinned.

Forgive me.

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

I hear her heart beating in my chest.

I want her on our side, Sardis.

- The Lord is testing you.
- I can't endure it.

The visions.

These accursed visions torment me.

Deliver me, Father.
I beg of you.

There's only one remedy
for this evil.

No!

Don't drink, sister.

They want to kill you.
But I won't let them.

Who does? Who?

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

- How about America?
- Jean-Fran�ois...

You've hurt me,
but I forgive you.

What are you doing?
Where are you going?

Stay.

- Would I harm you?
- Please stay away from me.

Marianne, I need you.

You saved me when I was sick,
no one else.

The sight of your face
ended my nightmares.

Your hand on my brow
chased demons.

You can't imagine all I've done
to keep you near.

I beg of you, don't shun me.

Why?

- Do I disgust you?
- You don't frighten me. Get out.

Because of this?

Never fear.
From now on, I'll take care of you.

Look. No one knows.
Only Sardis and I.

Leave! Get out!

Why?

- Why?
- You're not my brother.

- Another man returned from Africa.
- True, but it was for you I left.

But for you,
all this would not be.

All this?

It 's your odor
that foul thing smelled on me.

We're of the same blood, Marianne.
We're of the same blood.

When father comes back,
he'll kill you!

Unless I kill him?
He's hindered us so long.

Go ahead. Do it, go ahead.
Kill me! Kill me!

Why didn't you?
Is it so difficult? Look.

- Stop.
- Then you love me?

Quiet!

- Marianne, I love you.
- Help!

Brothers, the Lord has told me
the Beast will be back...

to herald the return of values
to our decadent kingdom.

And in a reborn France
we shall be invisible princes...

...for God is with us.
- God is with us!

God is with us!

The people cannot fathom
the Lord's wrath.

The unjust censure of the King...

cannot withstand
the public's rage.

When that wrath is at a climax,
we'll bargain with the King.

If he couldn't repress one,
imagine if...

from all over the realm,
other Beasts burst forth?

The hour is at hand
to reap what we've sewn.

Let us read from Malachi.

"The word of the priest
is the depository of science.

And from his mouth is sought
knowledge of the law...

for he is the angel
of the lord of hosts..."

"He who adores the Beast
or its image...

shall drink the Lord's wrath.

He shall be tormented
in the fire and brimstone...

before the angels. The smoke shall
rise in the century of centuries."

I'm back to name you.

Pierre-Jean Laffont.
Genevi�ve De Morangias...

Maxime Des For�ts.
Gontrand De Moncan...

Henri Sardis.
Jean-Fran�ois De Morangias.

Amen!

Fire!

Damned bastards!
You're all under arrest!

Ghost or no ghost...

I'll split you in two.

See? No need to hold back.

- I never intended to.
- Too late, Fronsac.

- The Beast is immortal now.
- Perhaps, but you are not!

- You and Sardis trained the Beast.
- How do you know?

You use silver bullets.

Marianne, look!

Marianne is not here, madman.

You've united us forever.

Line the bastards up!

Who are you?

- Who are you?
- Look at them!

Not so high and mighty now!
Get back! Come on!

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

And Sardis?

Wherever he runs, we'll find him.

Or the mountain will take him.

- Shall we celebrate properly?
- You've killed me once.

The better to revive you.

I could introduce you in Rome.
Would you come with me?

Too late.
I like you, Fronsac.

You make me forget all my duties.

Leave, before I change my mind.

- Marquis, what is it?
- Marianne.

I've had her brought home.
She's dying.

No!

Get out! Go away!
All of you!

Marianne!
Marianne, wake up!

Marianne, forgive me.

I love you.

Years passed...

but Gr�goire De Fronsac and Marianne
De Morangias never left my memory.

The world that made the Beast
is dying away.

And I must hasten,
for my story, too, is ending.

I remember the Chevalier and I
at Jean-Fran�ois's hideaway...

where the Beast awaited
her final hour.

The old healer told us all he knew.

Jean-Fran�ois brought an animal from
Africa, and it dropped a litter.

Only one cub was kept.
The strongest.

Patiently and cruelly, he'd
trained it, made it ever meaner.

Thus died the Beast of G�vaudan.

And l, Thomas d'Apcher...

am probably the last to know
the whole truth.

You will die!

The Chevalier
invited me to Africa...

but my land needed rebuilding.
My duty was to my countrymen.

I've often thought
of Gr�goire and Marianne...

over the peaceful years
that brought me gently to old age.

I never saw them again...

but I like to think
they lived happily, far from here.

BROTHER WOLF