Over the Hills and Far Away

by Susan Skylark

Varied Strangers

  Bess sat at the window gazing dreamily out into the golden green light of the evening sun shining through the summer trees; it was on nights such as this that fairies danced and magic happened. She sighed, things like that didn’t happen anymore or perhaps never had. She closed her book of fairy tales and legends and went to do something practical. The golden evening had deepened to a purple twilight with a bright moon overhead and a velvet wind, perfumed with clover and hay, dancing among the lilies, when Bess looked up from her mending as someone knocked at the door. She put down her socks and hastened to answer the summons. Standing without was a stooped, shabby man of indeterminate years who yanked at his lank forelock and mumbled almost coherently, “I begs yer pardon madam, but mights I tend to some odd job or tother in exchange for a bit and sup?”

  She stared down at the creature at first aghast, for she was home alone as her father and brothers were away on business, but his seeming plight touched her heart and she immediately drew him into the house, offered him whatever food she had to hand, and began making preparations for a bath, which she estimated he had not had in perhaps a century or more. He was quite astonished to be treated like a guest, rather than as a wandering cur or worse, but he heartily set to the food before him though he did eye the warming water with trepidation. Bess smiled at his uneasy glances and said, “if you are going to sleep in the guest bed, sir, you will be at least as clean as the sheet thereon, else you may suffice yourself with the barn loft.”

  He yanked his greasy forelock again and seemed to be mumbling a desperate prayer under his breath, but at last he said audibly, “as you likes it miss, as you likes it.” She nodded firmly and went to go find some of her brothers’ clothes, hoping something might fit her ill clad guest.

  He finished his food and she sent him off to bathe after handing him a change of clothes; he stared at the bundle in apprehension but again yanked his hair and muttered under his breath, before facing his sudsy doom. She thought to mend and clean his clothes whilst he partook of his ablutions, but alas, the garments were so dirty and ragged that there was nothing to be done but to retire them to the rubbish heap. He was quite aghast to learn that he was to keep the clothes he had been given which resulted in more hair pulling and mumbling. She sent him to bed, in a real bed, and went back to her book of tales, thinking she had been practical enough for one night. In the morning she sent him on his way after a hearty breakfast with food enough to last him several days, he vanished into the quickening day with more babbling and forelock yanking and Bess could only smile.

  A month later she went into the village to buy a few items for her father when a dashing young lord aback a beautiful horse galloped past her and splattered mud all over her second best dress. His lordship seemed not to notice, but rather sharply reined in the beast so that he reared and flung more mud from his flailing front hooves. Once the beast was again earthbound, the young rascal dismounted, tossed his reins carelessly to the muddied girl, and said in passing, “see to the beast lass, I shall be back when it suits me.” He raised an eyebrow in surprise, “and you might wish to bathe on occasion and don a fresh dress, as you never know when you might meet somebody important!” He shook his head in disgust and entered the nearest shop. Bess stood there holding the reins and gaped after in silent astonishment.

  Her practical side reared its head and she led the beast over to the trough that it might at least have a drink. An hour passed and his lordship did not emerge. She sighed and led the beast into the shade and used a borrowed brush to groom the creature. Another hour passed and the day grew hot and Bess’s stomach reminded her that it was well past lunchtime. She sat on the grass, held the reins, and waited and still his lordship did not come. At last, as the sun was vanishing behind the hills, his lordship emerged, glanced about for his beast, and finally approached the dirty, hungry, tired maiden. He glanced thoughtfully at the animal, shook his head, climbed into the saddle, and said in farewell, “you missed a spot just in front of the shoulder; good help is just impossible to find in this degenerate age!” He turned the animal and galloped off into the growing shadows. Bess stood, sighed, and trudged home, her errand unaccomplished.

  One day a couple months later, her elder brother brought home a handsome stranger he had met on his latest journey upon his father’s business. Bess quickly shut her gaping mouth and tried to stifle the strange sensation she felt in her chest, as if her heart were beating abnormally fast; the man was the comeliest example of humanity she had ever beheld, but she reminded herself sternly, she was practical. So she left her weeding and hastened to the house to prepare for their guest, certainly in nowise wanting to make his acquaintance sooner rather than later, though she did slip into her best dress for some reason she could not fathom. They sat over supper and the man thrilled them with his stories of adventure and intrigue, for he was apparently a very wealthy man and rather important in the ruling circles of his own country. He paid particular attention to the fair maid before him, but there was something in his manner she did not like though she tried very hard to silence this unwanted voice, hoping it wasn’t herself being practical again. The men produced their pipes and sat before the fire long into the night, listening to the man’s tales, but Bess withdrew to the kitchen to finish cleaning up and then went to bed, but sleep was long in coming as uneasy thoughts played through her mind.

  In the morning, the stranger drew the damsel out into the misty garden, soaked with dew and sunshine. She was a bit uneasy to be so alone with a strange man and he smiled at her antsy feet and frightened eyes, saying, “come lady, there is no reason to be nervous, I am a man of honor!”

  She stood stock still and eyed him boldly, her timidity suddenly gone at this astounding statement, said she, “are you now, sir? What of all your tales of last night? There was much danger and adventure, but little of integrity and honor.”

  He spurned her, “you shall die an old maid wench, for no woman alive should be able to resist my charms! What more can you want in a man than what I have to offer? You are too picky and will be left alone!” He turned on his heel and marched away. She stared after aghast, but glad that she had finally listened to that gnawing doubt in her heart that could see past the shallow and daring facade to the selfish and cold creature beneath. A small smile touched her lips as she returned to the vegetable patch to resume her weeding.

  The wind had stripped the leaves from the trees but no snow had yet shrouded the grey and brown grimness of the surrounding countryside in splendid white raiment. Bess was returning from the barn with a pail of milk when a stranger met her in the farmyard, said he, “is your husband at home madam?” She shook her head and was about to ask the plainly clad young man to come into the house for some breakfast but he said quickly, “no father or brothers either?” She shook her head again for they were again away from home. Said he with growing eagerness, “then I will just have to treat with you, lady.” He whispered conspiratorially, “just between you and I of course, the menfolk need know nothing of this.” He put his hand in his pocket and withdrew it holding a beautiful sapphire ring that Bess knew must be worth far more than she could ever afford. He smiled knowingly at her mixed awe and consternation, saying, “aye lass, it can be yours and not for as much as you fear.” He whispered the sum he wanted and she frowned, so little? He grinned, “I’ve just come into possession of this fine specimen and am in need of money more than jewels at the moment, and of course I can’t get the King’s ransom I should for this little bauble hereabouts so I am willing to take what I can get. What do you say?”

  “Where did it come from?” asked she.

  Said he with a wink, “a poor dame misplaced it the other day, but fear not, she has plenty of others. Her misfortune is our gain and she’ll never know it! What do you say?”

  Bess’s frown deepened, “away with you sir, you and your pilfered items! Away before I call the watch!” He smiled greasily at her, ga
ve her another scandalous wink, and hied him on down the road as fast as he could trot. She shook her head in disgust and returned to the house.

  Spring came and the dragon with it. Most people expect an influx of birds and warm weather at this season, but so too did they receive an unexpected reptilian menace. Bess decided then and there never to be practical again, for it seemed the fairy tales were true. The monster stood on the village green with smoke curling from his nostrils and a hungry gleam in his eyes. He bellowed that all and sundry must present themselves before him this day or the whole village would soon be a smoking ruin. The terrified villagers and local farmers gathered as ordered and he glanced among them like a wolf eyeing a flock of chickens. “Is this all of you?” hissed the beast. The terrified villagers quivered their assent. “Very good,” snarled the creature, “I will tell you this but once so listen closely. I need a volunteer else the entire village will feel my wrath. A volunteer for what, you ask?” He laughed vilely, “that you will not know until afterwards, if you are capable of knowing anything at all at that point.” He laughed for another full minute and seemed to relish the horror and disgust emanating from the trembling host before him. “Well?” growled he, “who shall it be?”

  Immediately the terrified peasants began discussing the matter amongst themselves, each suggesting to another that they were the ideal victim, but no one seemed to believe it and quite vocally disagreed. Among the weeping, yelling, pushing, trembling throng, a firm, quiet voice was heard. “Silence!” bellowed the beast, “quit your mewling wench and speak for all to hear!”

  Bess stood forth from the cringing, silent mass and said, “take me then sir, spare these poor folk.”

  The dragon cocked his head and stared at her with one predatory eye, “are you certain madam?” She nodded firmly and the creature snatched her up without another word and was immediately a-wing. Bess gasped in terror as much as in exhilaration, for flight was always something she had wished to experience. He bore her deep into the heart of the mountains without a word, but finally set her down on a rocky precipice overlooking a grim, stony valley far below. He taunted her, “are you even now sure of yourself madam?” She nodded grimly and glanced into the chasm below, he mocked, “wondering if it would not be better to throw yourself over the cliff? Do it and your village will suffer!” She shuddered but moved away from the edge, but she stared with vehemence at her captor, daring him to do his worst.

  He actually chuckled, it sounded neither harsh nor mocking, but rather warm and amused, “a feisty creature to the last!” Said he quite seriously, “here then lady is your doom: you must marry me.” She gaped at the creature in astonishment and he chuckled again, before saying, “perhaps it shall be a worse torment than any death you imagined at my claws, but so it is.”

  She sighed heavily and then studied the creature before her with a slight frown on her face. The creature remained silent and allowed her to content herself with her investigation. Said she quietly, “can such a thing truly be? Can a human and a dragon truly wed?”

  He laughed heartily, “what? No tale in that book of yours regarding such a concept?”

  Her frown deepened, “What?! How?” Then a thoughtful smile brightened her face, “What if I say yes?”

  He suddenly took her up in his claws and winged swiftly away from those grim heights, she shrieked in surprise but enjoyed the ride after her initial shock. They landed in a quiet meadow and the girl was flung indecorously to the ground. She stood and turned to scold the creature for his ill treatment of her, only to find him writhing insensibly in agony and shrinking by the moment. She gasped and rushed to his side. By the time she reached him, he was a beast no longer but rather a young man with an exultant smile on his face. He grinned at her joyously and her mouth twitched in mirth.

  He stood, stretched, and began working his arms and legs, as if he had spent a fortnight in a cramped position. As he worked life back into his limbs, he regaled Bess with his tale, said he, “I do hope you mean to keep your promise darling, or I am doomed to again wear scales! But you are such a kind, patient, forgiving, honest, wise, and bold creature that I know you shall never rescind on your word. You do not know me, but I have had the joy of learning more of you than you perhaps know of yourself. You have suffered through several strange encounters over the past year and I was each of your visitors. I was quite overjoyed to find a woman of such heart when I came knocking at your door, beggar that I was, and heartily amused to find her a lover of old stories too, for I had found myself in the midst of one. Fear not, I am in truth a Prince, as such tales require, and hopefully of better character than most of my faux personas. I was cursed by my stepmother, certainly another prerequisite for such a tale, and they never bother hexing those of a troublous or wretched nature, so that again I hope is in my favor! Please forgive the sudden departure, but I knew the spell broken by your words and had I hesitated, we might be stuck on that pinnacle of rock indefinitely!”

  She smiled fully upon him and her eyes danced merrily, as she asked, “what was this strange curse and what is to come of she who laid it upon you? Please tell me this woman is not to be my mother-in-law!”

  Laughed the Prince, for very joy, “nay lass, so great and terrible was the spell she laid upon me that should it ever be lifted, the recoil alone might kill her or at least break her power. If she lives, she shall now be no more dreadful or terrible than any such creature might be, though I hear mothers-in-law as a species tend to be quite awful indeed, but she must face my father’s justice and will trouble the world no longer. As to the spell, it was quite a dreadful curse, requiring me to go about as a dragon most of the time and the only way to break it was to gain the willing hand of the most virtuous and wise lady in all the Kingdom. I could appear at times as a mortal man, but never as myself and always as either a wretched beggar or the most insolent and dastardly creature imaginable, neither guise prone to attract a woman of your intelligence and virtue. But alas, the witch forgot that such a true heart might sacrifice itself for the sake of others, but I hope your sacrifice on behalf of all your folk will no longer be seen as such?”

  Her smile was answer enough. Soon enough, the merry young pair was wed and the whole Kingdom celebrated, save the unfortunate witch, who was so astonished at the failure of her greatest spell that she fainted dead away and never wakened.

  Happy, smiling, pixie thing,

  Laughing up at me.

  If Joy wore petals,

  She would garb herself as thee.

  ~Wild Pansy~

  Many waters cannot quench love,

  Neither can floods drown it,

  For love is strong as death.