The Golden Princess and the Moon

by Anna Mendell

  Rosa hung her head in shame. The Green Lady lifted the princess’ chin and smiled warmly. “No more worries, my princess. All is well, and I believe there is someone outside the door who is eager to see you.”

  Rosa leapt from her chair to the door. There was her Silver Wolf, waiting for her. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his fur. He licked her face and then pranced around her like a puppy.

  “Go now, and enjoy yourselves,” said the Green Lady, handing the princess her lunch. “But I want you back home before dusk.”

  Rosa and her wolf scampered off. The princess did not feel too adventurous that day, and mainly kept her fingers tangled in the wolf’s coat. They chased each other about, and the princess teased him by pulling his tail, something she never would have dared before. They lunched together and she tossed berries into his mouth, which he caught with a snap of his jaw. Finally, they curled up together in the afternoon sun, and she lay her head against his warm, heaving side and fell asleep.

  She woke to the wolf licking her face and saw that it was nearly dusk.

  “It is time to go back home, isn’t it?”

  THEY returned to the house together, and the Green Lady was waiting for them at the door. Rosa kissed her wolf goodnight and recounted her day to her godmother. Then, as the evening shadows lengthened, a cloud passed over the princess’s eyes, and she heard a ringing in her ears. Her yearning for the purple wood and the silver grass grew with the rising moon.

  The Green Lady draped the princess’ cloak over her and took her hand.

  “Come with me. We are going out,” she said.

  Surprise and curiosity momentarily dispelled the throbbing in her head. The Green Lady wrapped herself in her own cloak of shadows, and the two entered the wood in the darkening night. Rosa could not tell for how long they walked, while the stars spangled the heavens above them, and the woods thinned into aspens and young birches tall and straight. They walked on until they reached a cove with a pebbly beach and the sea stretching out before them.

  “I did not know we were so near the sea!” Rosa gasped.

  “We are not near as you would term it,” said the Green Lady. “But no distance is near or far when you travel in the faerie realm. Follow me.”

  The lady took Rosa down around the bend in the cove, and they came upon a little white ship. The prow was carved like a swan in flight, and the sail gleamed white in the moonlight. She could hear the waters lapping against the hull as they boarded the ship and took off into the horizon.

  Time was meaningless as the steady rocking of the ship lulled Rosa to sleep. She woke to her godmother singing a wordless melody so beautiful it hurt to listen. The Green Lady’s eyes were closed, and she seemed to be listening to something Rosa could not hear. When the princess’ heart was full of the song, she fell asleep again. On they traveled through the night, and, between her waking and sleeping, Rosa thought the night would never end. She did not mind, for the soft breezes carried sweet perfumes that dispelled the dull hammering in her head, and the moon was full and bright.

  The light grew on the horizon, and Rosa beheld an island in the distance. The breezes blew across her face and carried the ship toward the island, where they banked on a white, sandy beach. They watched together the most glorious sunrise, and then, hand in hand, the princess and her godmother found a path that led from the beach into the interior of the island.

  Rosa’s godmother had shed her dark cloak and was garbed in the green of springtime, with flowers in her hair. Cyprus trees, tall pencil-like evergreens, lined their path until they passed into a grove of olive trees that shimmered like silver-green mist in the sunlight. Through the olive grove wove a stream whose source was a fountain springing from a white rock at the heart of the island.

  The Green Lady led Rosa to a basin in the rock, where the water was so clear it almost shone like a diamond glowing with a fire in its heart.

  “Drink,” the Green Lady commanded, “drink from my spring and be renewed.”

  Rosa obeyed. The water was so cold and pure that the cloud in her head vanished, and the desire to lie down in the shadow of the purple trees and forget all her troubles was replaced by the tranquility of the olive grove.

  Rosa caught her reflection in the basin and was startled. She knew that she was beautiful, or, at least, so she had been told, but the glowing reflection she caught sight of was of a different kind of beauty, a beauty that seemed to radiate from the inside and shine through her eyes and face. But the instant she had glimpsed her reflection, the radiant beauty was gone, replaced by the natural order of her features.

  “What was that face I just saw now,” she asked, a little frightened, “was that my own?”

  “Yes, the fountain reflects what is within as well as that which is without. And after drinking from its waters, you were renewed and made beautiful again. This fountain is the mother and source of the well in my house, which is only a lesser reflection of it, as my house in the wood is only a reflection of my home on the island. Only its purity was strong enough to release you from the thrall of faerie enchantment.”

  The princess fell silent, but the Green Lady spoke, “Speak what is on your mind. I see that you have another question you would ask me.”

  “Then, please, why did you make me beautiful?”

  The lady breathed on the princess.

  “Do you ask why you breathe? Even breath is a gift. Therefore, do not ask why you are beautiful, but be glad that you are so, just as you should be glad that you breathe. Beauty reminds us of a time when the world was unbroken, when there was harmony and love in all things. And when a heart is moved by beauty, it strives to return to the time when things were unbroken.”

  Rosa did not think she fully understood what her godmother had said, but she felt that she had been answered. They left the olive grove and returned to the ship. She saw that time had passed differently there on the coast than it had in the grove, and that it was already sunset. The light pink stained the hazy margin between the sea and sky, and it seemed as if a rich girdle of blues and pinks encircled the world.

  They sailed off again towards the horizon, and this time Rosa slept through the whole journey to find herself waking in the morning in her bed at her godmother’s house.

  IT was not many nights after her visit to the Green Lady’s island that Rosa heard a rapping at the windowsill as she lay in bed. She opened the shutters and saw the cloaked figure of the Lady of the Hawthorn Wood outside. Tendrils of her red hair peeped out from under her hood, and the Silver Wolf sat on his haunches beside her. The lady beckoned, and Rosa threw on her cloak and shoes to join them.

  The Lady of the Hawthorn Wood led the way, and Rosa followed with her hand against the Silver Wolf’s back, for she was a little frightened of this stern lady. They traveled for a long time, and, when the princess looked up at the stars, she saw a red star shining bright above that seemed to journey with them. Then, at a distance, Rosa could hear the faint sounds of singing and laughter. The sound grew until they finally came to a wooded clearing, brightly lit by the tall flames of a bonfire. There were many figures dancing and singing, their pale limbs gleaming in the moonlight and firelight.

  The lady led her to the edge of the circle, and the princess sat down to observe the reveling before her. Never had she seen so many graceful creatures dancing or heard such a vibrant chorus of voices, accompanied by a delicate lyre and ringing bells. She watched the dancers form patterns in arcs and waves as they were carried by the spirit of the music. As she watched, she saw that some of the dancers seemed akin to the trees, long and slender, with leaves in their dresses and garlands in their hair, while others seemed to spring from the water with rippling movements and flowing garments. There were creatures that seemed embodiments of air and fire, so did they dart and flash among the dancers.

  She watched the unworldly scene before her in amazement, half entranced, but also a little frightened by its strangeness. One of the creatures, whose skin s
eemed to flame and whose feet barely touched the ground, approached her. He offered her a cup engraved with vines, a challenge spoken in his glowing eyes. She took the cup and sipped the golden liquid, warm and honey sweet. Instantly her fear disappeared, and she felt a tingling down to her toes and a bubbling mirth welling up within her. The spirit of air and fire laughed and darted off to join the dance, and Rosa soon found herself laughing and singing with all the other faerie creatures, though she was content to remain seated and watch the dancers. The Silver Wolf’s head lay in her lap, and she stroked it gently. Some of the faerie murmured at this.

  The Lady of the Hawthorn Wood cast off her cloak and joined the dancers. One by one they left off their dancing to watch, and soon she was the only one dancing in the center of the glade. The music was soft and gentle at first, and each move the lady made was grace and fire, strength and beauty. Rosa felt a deep longing stirring within her heart and tears sprang in her eyes. But slowly the music grew and grew, and the lady spun and spun and flew about the clearing with such energy that Rosa felt it was a joy to be alive. The song ended, and silence filled the glade as every faerie creature had been captured by the lady’s dance. Then someone laughed, the music started again, and the dancing went on as before.

  The Lady of the Hawthorn Wood approached the princess and held out her hand. Rosa clasped it and was pulled into the dance. There she forgot everything, who she was and where she was. All that she knew was the music, that she was alive, and that she could dance. She did not notice that one by one the other dancers stopped to watch, until she was the only one left in the clearing. She did not come to herself until the music ceased and she realized all the faerie creatures were watching her, some with tears in their eyes. She covered her face in embarrassment.

  “No, do not be ashamed,” cried one of the dancers who rushed up to the princess and gently took her hands. Rosa saw that she was tall and slender, with birch leaves in her hair and that she had tears in her eyes.

  “Do not be ashamed,” she repeated, “you were beautiful. We of Faerie seldom cry, for we are joyful and take delight in living, and nothing ever fades for us. But you have the beauty of the perfect flower that will wither or the glorious sun that will set. Oh, what a sad thing mortal beauty is, for it must end.”

  The dancing began again, and Rosa remained with the dancers until the Lady of the Hawthorn Wood took her by the hand and led her from the clearing, with the Silver Wolf stalking regally behind them. Dawn stained the sky, and they wandered through the freshness of the dew and the early morning birdsong.

  The Lady of the Hawthorn Wood broke the silence, “Tell me, Rosa, when you saw the purple wood and silver grass on the other side of the riverbank, how did it tempt you?”

  Rosa flushed that the lady knew of her folly, but she answered after a moment’s thought, “I yearned to cross the river and lie in the silver grass and sleep in the dark shadows.”

  “You yearned for sleep,” the lady murmured and then fell silent.

  “But I was rescued by your Silver Wolf. Thank you for sending him to watch over me.”

  “He was careless in his duty!” the lady snapped, and the wolf whimpered, laying his ears flat against his head.

  “You should never have seen the riverbank,” she continued, “For you see, it was a test for him as well. My wolf is proud and was not content with his charge over a young girl, princess or no. He did not realize how much you meant to him until he almost lost you.”

  Rosa glanced down at the wolf and once more buried her fingers in his fur. They continued in that manner until they reached her godmother’s house, but, before the lady could depart, Rosa said, “Godmother, may I ask you what is the gift you gave me at my christening?”

  The lady looked surprised. “Do you not know? Do you think that there are many mortals who can dance so as to make a faery cry?”

  Rosa was glad that it was still the morning twilight, for she could feel a flush spreading over her features. The Lady of the Hawthorn Wood looked out into the distance, her eyes seeming to pierce the horizon beyond the tree line.

  “But there is something more, I see that now. There will come a time when you must face an ordeal in the formless darkness, and all will abandon you. At that time my courage will come to you and help you to endure.” She looked down at the princess, “Farewell, Princess Rosamund. We shall not meet again for a long while, but my gift goes with you.”

  “Thank you,” said Rosa, “and goodbye.” She did not know what else to say.

  The lady disappeared among the trees, her Silver Wolf following her. Rosa felt a pang at her going. She went inside the house to sleep and woke with the sun at its brightest. The events of the night before seemed but a dream, but the beauty of the memory of the Lady of the Hawthorn Wood’s dancing remained with her.

  THE summer passed into autumn, the oak trees grew heavy with acorns, and Rosa walked into her godmother’s house one afternoon, carrying a hawthorn branch laden with its dark-red berries.

  The Green Lady bid Rosa sit down and said, “Rosa, it is time for you to bid farewell to my home and return to the castle, where your mother and father await you.”

  A wave of varied emotions passed over the princess. She felt joy at the thought of seeing her parents again, anxiety over returning to her old way of life, and a little stab of fear that maybe, just maybe, no one would be glad to see her back.

  “Godmother,” she said, “this cannot be goodbye forever? I will be able to come back and visit you, will I not?”

  “Your time in the forest has ended, and you will not return to my house in the wood. Though that does not mean that we shall not see each other again,” the Green Lady said.

  Rosa embraced her. “The Silver Wolf, will I see him again?”

  “I am sorry, Rosa, you must say goodbye to the wolf. Tomorrow will be your last day with him, and then I fear your time together has passed. The Lady of the Hawthorn Wood has other tasks for him now.”

  “Oh, no!” Rosa cried, and sobbed in her godmother’s arms.

  The next day was bittersweet for Rosa. She spent it with the wolf and said goodbye to all her favorite haunts in the forest. When he took her back to her godmother’s house, she could not help but weep. “You have been the best of friends, and I will miss you terribly,” she said and buried her face in his fur.

  He licked her tears away and nudged her into the house and into the Green Lady’s arms. He stayed for a while, staring at the closed wooden door, and then silently strode through the growing mist into the woven shade of the forest.

  Inside her home, the Green Lady comforted the princess, for she understood Rosa’s sadness at leaving.

  “I don’t know, godmother,” Rosa whispered, “but maybe I would rather stay with you here in the wood after all.” She anxiously looked up at the Green Lady.

  The lady knelt down and smoothed back the princess’ golden hair. “My dear, it is time for you to return to your own kind. You cannot be alone in the forest any longer.”

  “But I have you and the Silver Wolf,” the princess cried, “I am not alone!”

  “That is not enough,” the Green Lady said firmly. “You must learn to make friends among your own kind. And you must further discover your gifts. You have learned all you can from the forest as you are now. I have a gift for you, Rosa, one that I hope will aid you when you are in the castle.”

  From the folds of her gown she pulled out a small, square mirror the size of her outstretched palm.

  “This mirror was bathed in the waters of my fountain and is therefore imbued with its grace. At most times it will merely give a true account of your outward features, but, when the inspiration takes it, it will grant you a glimpse of your inward self. But let me give you a word of warning. You cannot force the mirror to bestow upon you its vision, and it can be dangerous if misused, and, if misused, it will be taken away. It is not meant to be used for vanity’s sake. But come…” The lady opened her arms. “I will take you back to the castle
now.”

  “Oh,” cried Rosa, “are we going back tonight? How are we getting there?”

  “We will return the way we came,” the Green Lady replied and encircled the princess in her arms.

  PRINCE ERIK WOKE early for his morning sword training with Kenelm. The Captain of the Guard wore the prince to the bone, and, after his lesson, the prince made his way to the cistern in the castle keep to pour water over his burning arms and head. He slumped on a bench to rest his aching limps and fell into a daze, until his thoughts were interrupted by an inhuman shriek that filled the air.

  The prince leapt in surprise and dashed toward the sound. Bursting upon the castle courtyard, he found a group of servant boys, as well as the sons of some of the castle guards, gathered together to form a ring. They were jeering and throwing stones at something in the center of the ring, and, by the yowling cries piercing the air, Erik knew they had trapped a wild animal.

  The prince grimaced and pushed himself into the crowd. In the center of the ring was a large brown sack flailing violently with what could only be a frenzied animal inside. Another stone hit the bag, and a sharp cry of rage and pain pierced the air.

  “Hey! That is enough!” Erik cried.

  He stepped out into the center with a show of confidence that he did not feel. One of the older boys held up his arm to stop the others from throwing stones. They all watched to see what the prince would do next.

  Erik knelt down by the sack, from which emitted a low, reverberating growl. He pulled his hunting knife from his belt and cut through the cord. The frantic head of a cat thrust out, its grey hair standing on end, its ears flat against its head. It immediately struggled to escape, but, in its frenzy, the cat tangled itself further into the cord. Erik reached forward to disentangle it, but the terrified animal slashed at him with its free paw, and the boys in the circle laughed.