by Anna Mendell
The healing woman’s face took on a faraway look, and, as she told her story, each word she spoke was thick with the weight of memory.
After the curse had fallen and the princess was in deep slumber, she was laid to rest in the tower on her faerie godmother’s orders. The king had her put there in ceremony and spent a night all alone by her bedside. No one knew if he had shed tears when he said farewell to his only little one, but, after he shut the door behind him, he never returned to see her.
Her cousin Edmund stayed away from the tower as well. He never looked toward it, nor spoke of the princess, yet he could not force himself to leave the castle, even though his father had gone long ago. The servants whispered that at night there could be seen a dark-hooded figure circling the tower and falling on its knees before the door, its hand outstretched as if begging for forgiveness.
The once great kingdom fell into confusion, and the weariness that before had threatened the king now overcame him. He sat all alone on his golden throne and banished all his noblemen from the castle. Every evening he ate in his chambers, alone and unspeaking, though he had three place settings laid out on the table. And every evening the servants would take back three plates fully laden to the kitchen, for the king rarely ate and would only take a little bread and wine to sustain him.
Thieves and brigands overran the lands, and the lords did not watch o’er those in their care. So, when raiders in ships from o’er the northern sea came, they found a country unresisting. They burned and pillaged and their numbers grew, until a large force came from o’er the sea and broke like a great and mighty wave against the castle walls and battered down the gates.
Then the king was roused and returned to life to face his death like the Golden Kings of old. He slew many northern warriors, with his sword stained red and flashing silver. But finally he fell before the great numbers, and, with his death, Edmund became king as the dark faery promised. But like all such promises, no joy came from it.
Edmund called the last of the soldiers to defend the princess in the tower. The soldiers fought bravely, but fell, one by one, until Edmund was the only one standing. He too finally fell and lay down on the pile of broken bodies of foe and friend alike.
The invaders swarmed through the castle searching for gold and treasure and left the tower undisturbed, for the door to the tower was missing, and they strangely never thought to be curious about what was inside.
But Edmund was not dead yet and lay facing the cloudy grey sky with his body on fire and his mind in even deeper agony o’er the princess’ fate. A cool shadow fell o’er him, bringing relief and the scent of the spring morning. Eyes of dawn and dusk stared into the fading eyes of the dying king.
Edmund reached up to the Green Lady. He gasped the princess’ name with the last of his strength, and the faery clasped his hand before it fell.
“Rest peacefully,” she said. “Your sacrifice has saved the princess.”
Edmund died from a sword wound that had pierced his heart. The Green Lady took three drops of his heart’s blood and buried them deep in the earth. From the blood sprang a bush that grew speedily with sharp, clawing thorns. It grew o’er and claimed the bodies of the dead men surrounding the tower. The thorns crept o’er the castle, digging into its foundations and scaling its walls, until they severed the tower from the rest of the castle, and the castle crumbled, leaving a solid wall of thorn wrapped around the tower. The invaders fled in terror from the tumbling castle, though many fell and were impaled on the sharp thorns, and their blood was mingled in the ground with the heart’s blood of Edmund. Edwina was a witness to all this, for she was with the Green Lady.
From that day onward, the northern men avoided the woods round the tower. Time passed, and the tower was forgotten as more northerners came from o’er the sea and settled on the land. But there are still those who whisper among themselves of the dark tower in the heart of what is now known as the Shadowood, and little children are frightened into being good by tales of fearsome creatures inhabiting the wood.
So the Golden Kings and the Golden Kingdom were forgotten by most. Seasons passed, and years passed. How many years I could not say. But those with long memories remember the princess and the promise that she will one day awaken, and with her sleeps the hope that her awakening will bring back Faerie and the Golden Kingdom of old.
When the healing woman finished, Erik was silent for a long time, lost in thoughts that made his brow knit in worry and his heart grow sad.
The old woman drew him away from his reverie. “You should sleep now. We will discuss what you must do in the morning. If you will sleep on the floor? The patient has our only bed, but I have spare blankets.”
Erik rose to his feet. “Bear no thought for me; make yourselves as comfortable as you can. I have slept many a night on the hard earth under the stars.”
The woman’s daughter brought the prince an extra blanket, and he lay down on the floor beside the wall near the door. The events of the day played through his mind, the thorn maze, the wolves, the old woman’s story that brought ancient memories to the very present. He did not know how he could ever fall asleep, but he must have been tired, because the next thing he knew was that he was no longer in the cottage, but in the silver field near the river, shaded by purple trees from his dreams.
The weariness lifted from him, and Erik went to the river’s edge, hoping to catch sight of the princess. Only this time his feet were not as eager as before, for he knew that there was something he needed to tell Rosa, and he wished he did not have to do so.
But the princess was not at the other side of the river bank, nor was she in the water. He heard someone calling his name and turned to find the princess standing in the field from where he had just come. His heart leapt at the sight of her. There she was, and this time there was no river separating them. She was still a distance away, so he rushed back up to the field, but, when he came near her, Rosa held up her hands in warning. It was too late, however. He had stepped too close, and the ground shifted, so that a wide expanse of the field separated them and the princess was but a speck on the horizon.
Erik cried out in surprise, but he plowed across the field back toward the princess, and he soon saw that she was doing the same. In fact, it did not take long to reach her, as she was closer than she had appeared, as is the way in dreams. They both stopped walking when they were a few arm spans away and looked at each other.
The prince felt struck dumb, as he always did whenever he first saw the princess. She was so lovely.
“We should probably stop here,” she spoke. “I do not think we are meant to be near enough to touch.”
Erik shook his head and then, confused, he nodded.
Rosa laughed her bubbling, mirthful laughter, and Erik thought her laugh wonderful.
“Shall we sit down? We could talk more comfortably.”
“Yes, of course,” Erik said, embarrassed by his stupidity. “Would you like to sit on my cloak?” He held it up and then looked at it critically, “…though it is quite dirty and torn.”
Suddenly, he wondered about his appearance. He must look very travel stained, with a torn cloak and Dunstan’s blood on his tunic. The princess, however, stood before him as fresh and radiant as ever, looking the same as when he first saw her.
The dreams are different for her than for me, he thought. Is it because she is always here and I come and go, or is it because this is my dream and she is not really… the prince did not allow himself to finish his train of thought.
“No, it is all right,” the princess was saying. “My dress doesn’t get dirty, and I wouldn’t mind if it did.” She sat down and so did Erik. The princess peered at him shyly and said. “It seems like you have been through an ordeal.”
Erik explained how he and his friend were attacked by wolves. Rosa gazed at him and then said simply, “Because you are looking for me?”
The prince nodded.
“Tell me.”
So Erik described every
thing that had happened since he had last spoken with her, but he failed to mention the old healing woman in the wood.
She looked deep into his eyes and said, “Thank you.” Erik felt that all of his difficulties had been repaid.
They both fell into an awkward silence, Erik because he kept pushing away that thing which he did not want to say. Whatever Rosa was thinking made her blush and she was the first to speak.
“You are right that I am in a dream.”
He looked at her questioningly.
“I don’t have to eat,” she explained, “and I spend most of my time sleeping.”
“You crossed the river.” He stated the obvious for something to say.
“Yes, I wanted to be on this side in case you came back.” She continued hurriedly. “I guessed the waters would let me cross when you were gone. So I wandered about the fields waiting for you, but most of the time I just felt sleepy. Then, a short while ago, I felt less tired and hoped that meant you were coming back, and now I don’t feel sleepy at all.”
The prince smiled softly at her. Rosa’s eyes darted down, and she began pulling up tufts of silver grass. Then she raised her head and said shyly, “Last time you said you would tell me all about yourself.”
So Erik recounted his past to her. He told of his mother’s death and how he met Ninny Nanny in the woods, of the old woman’s stories and his dreams, how he left the castle and doubted the princess’ existence, and, finally, how he chased the stag and found out that she was real. Yet somehow, as he told his story, he managed to avoid telling the princess that he was the crown prince and that Lothene had once been Aurlia long ago.
Rosa stared at him with shining eyes, and Erik saw that she understood more about him than he had meant her to. When he was finished, she said, “Erik, I wanted to ask you if you knew anything of my father and the Kingdom of Aurlia. Do you know if he is still alive?”
The prince’s heart grew heavy. The moment that he had wished to avoid had arrived. He had hoped that he would not have to tell her, but he knew it had been a vain hope.
“Rosa,” he said gently, “it has been hundreds and hundreds of years since you fell asleep. Everything you know is gone.”
There was a dreadful silence, and Rosa’s face grew pale. “I feared that might be the case.” Her voice trembled. “Do you know how he died?”
Erik nodded miserably. “I just found out. Soon after you fell asleep, the kingdom fell to northern invaders. Aurlia is no more. The kingdom is called Lothene now.”
The princess’ eyes grew wide and wet with unshed tears, and she asked in heartbreaking tones, “My father?”
“He fell with the castle. You don’t know how sorry I am, Rosa,” he said sorrowfully.
“Edmund?” The tears were streaming down her face.
Erik shook his head. His heart ached because he could not put his arms around her. “But your handmaid survived,” he said, trying to send a ray of comfort to her. “I met one of her descendants in the forest. She is the one looking after Dunstan, I just couldn’t tell you before.”
“Oh.” Rosa laughed a pitiful and sad laugh. “I am so glad to hear that… so Edwina survived to have children.”
Each of the princess’ tears wrung Erik heart, but he knew there was something else he had to say. “Rosa, there is one thing more. I told you that my name is Erik, but I did not tell you that I am the crown prince of Lothene.”
He saw the realization of his words slowly sink into her face. The princess did not say a word, and her tears stopped flowing.
“Rosa,” he whispered, “do you think that you could ever forgive me? For being who I am and not telling you sooner?”
The princess leaned her head against her hand and closed her eyes. “I don’t know, Erik. I am too full of grief to think properly.”
Erik gazed down on Rosa sadly and could think of nothing that he could do or say to comfort her. He came to the wrenching realization that he was really nothing more than a stranger to the princess, while she had been all that he had truly loved since he was a boy.
“Do you think you could leave me alone for a while?” she asked.
Erik nodded, mute and miserable, and Rosa rose and reached her hand out to touch him. His heart was torn as he realized that she was reaching out to him not to be near him, but to send him away, and he was hurtled backwards, whipping through the fields and fading from the dream.
IT WAS ALREADY late morning when Erik woke up in the cabin in the woods and saw that everyone was already awake. The old woman was outside, and Dunstan was sitting up in bed, eating some broth that the healing woman’s daughter fed him with a spoon.
The prince stood, raked his hand through his hair, and then pulled up a chair beside Dunstan’s bed, his sorrow over his last encounter with Rosa momentarily dispelled by his joy at seeing Dunstan so well.
His friend gave him a large grin. “Didn’t expect to see me again, did you? I thought those wolves would have finished me. I suppose I don’t taste very good.”
Erik laughed, happy and relieved to see Dunstan back to his old self. The girl hid a smile and said, “I’ll join my mother out of doors and gather more herbs for the poultice. I’m sure there is much that you would like to say to one another.” She rose and left them alone, and Dunstan followed her with his eyes.
“Both the girl and her mother are taking good care of you.”
“Hmm?” Dunstan’s attention returned to Erik. “Oh, yes… probably would be dead otherwise.”
“I do not think I would have ever forgiven myself if you had been killed following me on my quest.”
Dunstan gave Erik a serious glance. “Emma told me how the wolves attacked only me, and that none of the wounds were grievous.”
“Emma?”
“The girl’s name is Emma.”
“Of course it is.” Erik suppressed a smile.
Dunstan continued. “I was thinking about the fisherman’s warning—the one we met on the river at the border of Westhane. He said that the forest doesn’t tolerate doubt and that it would cast out those it found wanting. I am sorry, Erik, but I don’t believe in your sleeping princess.”
“I know, Dunstan. I did not expect you to. There is nothing to forgive.”
Dunstan brushed Erik’s assurance aside. “But I pretended to believe you. At least, I didn’t say that I didn’t. That is why the wolves attacked us. The forest doesn’t want me here, Erik.”
The prince clasped his friend’s forearm and said, “Yes, I know. That is why I am going on alone.”
“That’s what’s so frustrating!” Dunstan exclaimed. “I don’t want you to go on this harebrained journey on your own. I didn’t believe that there was anything to your dreams before, but now I am not so sure. What if someone wishes to entrap you, Erik? Have you thought of that? The westerners know magic. Their forests are full of witches. Perhaps they wish to kidnap the crown prince?”
“I wouldn’t have thought you the sort to believe in witchcraft.”
“Yes, well, perhaps this forest has changed my mind,” Dunstan mumbled.
“I have to go on, Dunstan.”
“I knew you’d say that.” Dunstan scowled, clenching his fists. “I just wished that I understood the madness that has seized you.”
Erik smiled a little sadly at his friend, but they were interrupted by the healing woman and her daughter entering the cottage. The healing woman went over to the fireplace and stirred whatever was bubbling in the cast-iron pot. Its scent wafted to Erik’s nostrils and set his stomach growling. He realized that he hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday.
Emma came over to check on Dunstan, whose scowl immediately disappeared. The prince observed that Emma was a very pretty girl, with dark hair and red lips. He raised his eyebrows at Dunstan, who gave him a sly wink, and then left the two of them to go and speak to the old woman.
“I must depart soon. May I leave Dunstan in your care?”
“You may.”
“Is there anything more t
hat you can tell me to aid me in my quest?”
The old woman continued to stir the pot. “I have learned that it is not for me to decide who the forest chooses and who it casts aside, but there is actually very little that I know which can help you. Stories alter over time. Some things change, some things remain the same. ‘Tis said that the Dark Tower stands in the middle of the thorn wood and that the princess sleeps inside, but the thorn wood is a labyrinth, and no one knows the true path.”
“Then I will go back. I have already wandered the thorn wood and will discover its secret path. Otherwise all has been for nothing.”
The old woman shook her head. “That I wouldn’t do. You’ve already been in the thorn wood, and it cast you out. You cannot enter the labyrinth the same way twice.”
“Then what would you suggest?”
“You must speak with Barden of the Winds. There’re some who say that he has faerie blood, though how far back it goes I do not know, but he deals in the secrets of the wood. He can speak to the trees and to the winds. If anyone knows the way through the labyrinth, it would be he.”
“Where might I find him?”
“That I can tell you. Barden’s Hall is about a day’s ride from here. You must travel north until you come to a wide stream; follow the stream westwards and you will reach a steep incline; when you reach the top, you will have a view of the house below. Tell Barden that the healing woman of the thorn wood has sent you, and he will help you. I tended his eldest boy through a sickness, and he owes me a favor.”
Erik thanked the old woman, and she ladled her stew into a bowl. “Eat this, Erik, Crown Prince of Lothene. You have a long journey ahead of you, and you will not fail on my account. But beware of Barden. Those who deal in secrets have secrets themselves, and they do not reveal them without a price.”
When Erik was ready to depart, he bade farewell to Dunstan, who gave him a grim look.
“If I didn’t know I would be a hindrance to you, nothing would keep me from accompanying you. But as it is… Swear you will come back.”
