by Charles Vess
In great anger, Nikolas started across that space, but wise Morningstar calmly placed her hand on his arm and said to him soothingly, “Father, it will be better for both of us if you take this now.”
He looked then at his daughter and saw that she held, cupped in both of her hands, the rune stone that set aside her wooden image and cloaked it with human flesh. “Please, Father. I fear what they will do with us out here in this savage kingdom. Place my wooden self alongside my sisters. Secret my stone around your neck and carry us all with you then, wherever you go from here.”
Nikolas saw the wisdom in his daughter’s words and did as Morningstar had asked. Then, slipping the delicately woven bag under his clothes and fixing the rune stone upon the chain that he wore about his neck, he strode boldly out into the great cavern, into the midst of his enemies.
Even with his great strength, Nikolas was quickly subdued by the multitude of trollkind that filled that cavern. And he was brought to the bottom of those rough stone steps that led up unto the two thrones upon which the King and Queen of Trolls so calmly sat.
The Queen laughed at the stricken man held below her, “Hmmm, we have an expected visitor.”
Nikolas used his great strength then and shook off the arms of his captors and cried out, “Troll, I have come for my son!”
Still she smiled. And then the Queen of all Trollkind gestured at her lap and replied, “Do you not see your son before you? He is happy and well content, is he not? Hmmm.”
And Jordy did seem to be happy. But when Nikolas looked closer, he saw that hung about his son’s small neck were the eleven rune stones that belonged to the boy’s true sisters and hope sprang of a sudden in his heart. Seeing where Nikolas looked, The Queen reached down and took the stones from around the boy’s neck and swallowed them, one by one by one. Great then was her pleased laughter when she looked upon the despair on the face of her enemy.
She had Nikolas bound then in heavy chains by three huge troll creatures.
All the while, Jordy laughed and played childish games with his eleven hideous troll companions. His only thoughts were for his imagined sisters who smiled beside him, and offered him plates that overflowed with sweet things and drinks that were most pleasing to a young boy. Nikolas cried out then to his son, thinking to warn the boy of the danger that was in that food. But Jordy’s ears were closed to his father’s cries.
And so the boy took of all of those things and ate and drank his fill, until liquid spilled down his cheeks and cake fell across his leather jerkin.
Nikolas remembered then the tales that the wise woman of his village had told him of the trolls and despaired. For humans cannot eat troll food nor drink of their drink, no matter the hunger that gnaws at their bellies or the thirst that parches their throats, or they will never hunger again for what is grown in the lands were they were born.
When the Queen of Trolls at last grew tired of taunting her guest, she ordered him taken from her. “Carry him away and let him languish in a place of utter darkness for so long as he shall yet live.” But before Nikolas could be led away she reached out with her long, hairy arm and snatched, from the golden chain hung round his neck, the single rune stone that Nikolas’ daughter Morningstar had given him.
Holding that stone between thumb and forefinger, a sly smile crossed her wrinkled lips, and she spoke once again. “Hmmm. But it is not seemly to take a gift without one being returned in kind. Take you this knife so that you may eat with it of the emptiness in the chamber in which you will live out the days left to you.” And so saying, she handed Nikolas a small, blunt blade fashioned from stone, and with it, her wild, wicked laughter echoed throughout the halls of her court.
Nikolas was thrown then into an endless, empty cavern where there was only darkness, and the cold greeted him and left him there, still bound in his chains. And the three enormous troll creatures who had brought him there rolled a great boulder across its entrance, the better to seal him within.
Then, in that overwhelming darkness, he began to ply his small knife upon the locks of his chains and was, in time, free of them. Little good that did him, though, still bound as he was by the stone walls of that vast chamber.
Casting about in that place of utter darkness, he soon discovered a curious thing. From the ceiling far, far above him, a huge shaggy root fell to the floor of that cavern and curled there at his feet. Standing in that utter darkness he imagined the great oak tree that towered above the vast mountain of rock that held within it the Kingdom of Trolls, and the cavern in which he had been cast, and further he saw how its limbs spread upwards, flourishing toward the light of the sun and from that imagining, his heart grew joyful once more.
Chapter Six
Children, we will never know how long he remained there in that confinement, but there was time enough for him to take his parting gift from the Troll Queen and carve with it upon that great root a wooden tapestry of life and love and warmth. Jordy was in it as he truly was, a bright young boy nestled safely in the arms of his father. As were his twelve daughters as they danced together in their forest glade. Nessa joined them then, laughing, singing, and holding her family at last within her strong and loving arms. In that chamber of eternal darkness, on that great root, he carved all the bright memories of his time on earth. And there too he carved all of his hopes and dreams for the future that lay ahead. Those hopes were what nourished his mind and his heart and his body through the long, long years he spent there in that darkness.
When enough time had passed for Nikolas to carve all of the surface of that great root into an intricate wooden tapestry of his own design, he began to chip at the hundreds of great stalactites that were there too in that vast chamber, and when their surfaces had been filled with his marks, then he began to ply his art upon the very walls of the great cavern itself.
On those walls he fashioned all the stories he had ever heard concerning the creatures of trollkind. And as he did so, Nikolas began to see into the mind of the great Troll Queen. There was great loneliness and despair in the story that he carved upon those walls. Great was the Queen’s loss when her only daughter, Nessa, had fallen in love with a human, one of the hated race that had hunted and harried trollkind from the beginning of their time together in the vast forest that covered the surface of their world. Yet a smile grew then on his lips as he carved her delight at news of the birth of her grandson. And he understood then much that had come to trouble his heart.
When he had finished sculpting every surface that was there in that vast cavern, and his knife had been worn even unto his fingertips, then Nikolas lay down upon the hard stone floor of the chamber and slept. And he slept long and well, until such time as there was a sound of rock scraping against rock, and a finger of dim light rippled across the floor of that great cavern and stopped even as it fell over his sleeping body. Then Nikolas opened his eyes and for the first time saw what his skill had wrought, and he was well pleased.
But his pleasure was brought to an end by the harsh words of the three guardian trolls who had been set to watch over him, as they too saw what he had done. They bellowed then across the chamber at him, “What have you done?” And, fearing it, they rolled the great stone once more across the entrance to that chamber and left Nikolas once more in darkness.
Returning to the great hall, his captors could not resist whispering to their friends of what they had seen within that cavern, who then spoke to others and those to still more besides, until their words fell through the dank air close to the Troll Queen’s ear. She was filled then with anger, but with curiosity too. And so she made her way to the place of confinement where Nikolas had languished for so long. Along with the Queen Mother of Trolls came all her court, and they, knowing the darkness that waited for them in that chamber, bore torches or candles or lanterns and every manner of illumination, so that the great chamber was filled with glorious light.
Standing in their midst, Nikolas saw that they all gazed in wonder at what he had done there. C
hief amongst them was their Queen, and with her the King, and close beside them stood Jordy, now a young man grown to his full height.
Glad was Nikolas’ heart to see his son.
But when Jordy looked upon his father he did not recognize the white-haired man with the long, long beard who stood before him. And close beside the fine-looking young man were his constant companions, the eleven troll maidens, and they began to laugh and make sport of Nikolas. But Jordy paid them no heed, for his eyes studied the great carved root that rose into the darkness above him.
Indeed, so great was Nikolas’ art, that all there that looked upon it fell silent and could not turn away. And the stories that they saw carved there, on root and stalactite column and high, high wall, opened wide their hearts to a certain wonder and delight. Why, I have been told that there were tears even upon the face of their cruel Queen, and that her heart softened towards Nikolas.
Softened, yes, but still Nikolas was not forgiven.
When Jordy turned away from the carvings at last, many were the pleasant memories that began to dance and play across his thoughts. In his heart there was a great longing for his sisters and the place that they had called home. And when he looked once more upon the white-haired figure that stood before him, the young man knew him. He embraced Nikolas then, and called him Father before all there in that vast court of trolls.
Turning then, Jordy bent his knee before the Troll Queen. And knowing in his heart of hearts that something must always be put back in place when something else is taken away, he pledged then a certain fell promise that darkened his heart even as its outcome filled him with hope. For if freedom were to be given his father, it most certainly would have to be met with his own promise to remain there amongst the trolls forever. “Grandmother, I will pledge my very life to the service of your court for as long as I may live, if this day you do but grant my father his freedom.”
The Queen’s great craggy face smiled kindly at Jordy as she silently considered his words, and when she spoke, there was a new warmth to her own. “Hmmm. Seeing what I see here before me, I now know that this human whom you name your father is not like so many others of his kind. So I have chosen to forgive him and all that is his.”
And saying so, she plucked from a certain purse she carried on her leather belt the twelve rune stones that Nikolas had thought gone forever, and presented them to the stout human figure that stood before her.
She turned back then to her grandson and spoke once more. “Hmmm. And further, I cannot find it within my heart on this day of days to keep apart those who love one another. So I give freedom to you too. From midwinter’s night until the length of midsummer’s day is over, you may live with your father and your family in the home wherein you were born.
“But the other half of the year you will bide here with us, for our kingdom has need of you. I have need of you. Hmmm, yes?”
Hope and sadness held sway in Jordy’s heart then as he watched his father walk freely out of that chamber of stone.
And Nikolas too pondered his son’s promise as he climbed the thousand times a thousand steps to the surface of our world once more.
And there he carefully took from his silken satchel the twelve carved figures of his twelve daughters, hung around each of their necks one of twelve rune stones.
Soon the air about him was filled with much laughter and with many tears too as his daughters Morningstar, Alder, Fern, Joy, Mayberry, Apple, Rosemary, Lily, Rowan, Butternut, Mistletoe, and Hollyberry were all reunited and learned then everything that had come to pass within the great dark cavern below their feet.
There too were the great elk and the Owl King who had waited so patiently, perched in the oak tree that towered above them all.
Nikolas watched then as his twelve daughters climbed upon the massive back of the great Owl King and flew away back toward their home. Then he called to the elk and climbed upon its back and bid it go out into the vastness of our western world.
He visited then the village wherein he was born and the ancient wise woman whose advice first sent him into the depths of the forest in search of Nessa, and he gave to her his profuse thanks for her kindness and her advice.
Still Nikolas was not content, and so he continued on and ventured far and far out into the world and saw there many things. Chief among them were greed and malice and war—always, endless war. But here and there he saw too great kindness ministered from one human unto another, and he was then made glad deep in his heart. And because of that he resolved to do what he could with his strength and his skills to encourage the same kindness in all whom he met.
Then, turning from the world, he returned to his low rambling home that was so far from the world’s tumult. Fresh snow began to fall as he and the great elk made their way slowly through the deep forest, and when they stepped from the darkness of that wood the snow had blanketed the small glade that surrounded his home, weighing deeply upon its roof.
From each chimney there rose smoke and from every window there shone the light of a single candle and all brought with them the promise of the great good warmth that waited for him within.
Broad then was the smile on Nikolas’ face when he entered his home and was greeted there by all twelve of his beautiful daughters. And there too was his son, Jordy, for it was midwinter’s eve and the young man had the freedom that his grandmother had given him.
Much later, Nikolas quietly opened his front door again and stood under the still steadily falling snow. He looked above him then at the enormous rock that curved protectively round about his home and the great wood beyond and he smiled. “Well, my Nessa,” he said, “our family is all safe in our home again at last. Are you not well pleased?”
Around him the still air of the glade began to ring with the strong, clear voices of all that were still within, raised in song and filled with cheer and great good gladness.
And Nikolas wiped a single tear away from his ruddy cheek and stepped back inside to join them.
Now then, children, there is gladness in my heart also, for not one of you here were put to sleep by the telling of my story. And see, during its telling we have had a visitor. Look! There are gifts now, under our tree. Gifts for all who are here and more besides. Perhaps even enough for all the children of the world in which we live. Does that not make your hearts glad?
And so, here ends the telling of my tale.
And to all of you who have heard it, a Merry Christmas and peace to you one and all.
Copyright © 2014 by Charles Vess
Art copyright © 2014 by Anna & Elena Balbusso
eISBN: 978-1-4668-8586-8
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to [email protected].
