by Alan Garner
They begged him not to desert them in their old age, but he would not listen, so the old woman had to promise to go again to the king the next morning.
“What is it now?” said the king.
And the old woman was as timid as she had been before, and remembered the previous day as well.
“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing, please.”
“‘Nothing’ was ten crowns yesterday,” said the king, and he gave her ten crowns more.
“Where is the princess?” said Paul.
“Never mind the princess,” said his mother. “Look at the money. Now we can find you a nice girl for a wife.”
“You don’t want me to marry the king’s daughter,” said Paul. “You’ve been tricking me all the time.”
“What kind of a house is this to bring a princess to?” said his mother.
“I shouldn’t bring her to this house,” said Paul. “I should build one for myself.”
“And leave us to die?” cried his parents. “Such gratitude!”
“But now,” said Paul, “since you have tricked and cheated me, I shall leave here in the morning. No! I shall leave now.” And he made to open the door, but his parents clung to him, and reminded him of all the years they had spent in rearing him, and of their loneliness, and of how everything was done for his happiness.
“Then fetch me the princess,” said Paul, “tomorrow without fail.”
So there was nothing for the old woman to do but to go to the king in the morning.
And the king said, “What do you want now?”
“Please,” said the old woman.
“Not more money,” said the king. “There must be something else that brings you to the palace every day with fear on you. Answer me the truth now, or your life may not last.”
So the old woman was made to tell the king that her son wanted to marry the princess.
“Then,” said the king, “they shall marry: if my daughter is also willing.”
And the princess said, “I don’t mind – provided that the young man first learns the trade that no one knows.”
This pleased the mother greatly, and the king gave her another ten gold crowns and sent her home.
“Where is the princess?” said Paul, and he took up his pack, which he had filled with wedding cake to feed him on his travels. “I told you I would not stay unless you brought her with you.”
“I have not brought her,” said his mother, “and you will stay. The princess agrees to marry you – but only when you have learnt the trade that no one knows. And since no one knows, then you can put down that pack and give over with your grand ideas. Bring in some logs. My knees are cold.”
“Bring them yourself, mother,” said Paul. “Father will help you. I am going to find where I may learn the trade that no one knows. Thank you for all you have done for me, and for my wedding cake.”
And he closed the door on their wailing anger, and journeyed into the forest.
He journeyed for many weeks and months, but found no teacher of the trade he would learn, and he sat down one evening in a thicket to rest his tired legs and to eat the last of the cake.
A hag came up to him, and said, “You are wretched and weary: why so?”
“You can’t help me, and I’m too spent to tell you,” said Paul.
“Perhaps I can tell you, then,” said the hag. “If you go straight on through the forest you will find what you are looking for.”
Paul jumped up, no tiredness now, and ran straight on through the forest. Soon he came to a castle, and four giants rushed out to meet him, shouting, “Do you want to learn the trade that no one knows?”
“Of course,” said Paul. “That is why I have come here.”
The giants took him into their castle, and at dawn the next day they said that they were going out hunting, and that while they were away Paul must not go into the room on the first floor of the castle.
But the moment he was alone Paul thought: I’ve made a big mistake in letting them bring me inside this place, and I probably shall never see the world again, so I may as well see this room they think is so important.
He climbed the spiral staircase until he found the first door in the wall, and he opened it. Inside the room was a golden ass by a golden manger.
“Come and take the halter from my head,” said the ass, “and hide it under your shirt. If you ever understand its use, then it will be of use to you.”
Paul took the halter, and when the giants came back from their hunting they asked him if he had entered the room.
“No,” said Paul.
“Yes!” said the giants. “We know!” And they thrashed him with ash sticks, and if he had not been wearing the halter over his ribs he would have been crushed by the blows.
The next morning the giants again went out hunting, but before they left they warned Paul not to go into the room on the second floor of the castle.
I feel half dead already, after last night, thought Paul. Another half won’t make that much difference. And he climbed the stair to the second door.
Inside the room sat a beautiful girl. She wore gold and silver, and she was mounting diamonds in every lock of her hair. She sat with her face a little from Paul, and she seemed not to have noticed him, so after looking at her for a long time he turned to leave.
“Take this key,” she said, “and guard it. And if you ever understand its use, it will be of use to you.” And she gave him a golden key from her waist.
The giants came home. “Did you go to that room?” they said.
“No.”
“Yes! We know!” And they clubbed him down, and beat him worse than before.
“If you go into the room on the third floor,” the giants said as they left the castle the next morning, “we shall not have mercy on you at all. You will be dead.”
I’m not likely to survive, as it is, thought Paul: so let’s see what’s in that room. I bet it’s treasure.
It was heads. The room was piled with human heads. Some had been there a long time, others not very long. They were all the heads of young men – and there was a space waiting for one more.
Paul went back to the stair, but one of the heads called out to him.
“Don’t go! You are the first visitor we have ever had! Talk to us!”
“Talk to us!” they all mumbled.
“What shall I say?”
“Tell us why you are here,” they chattered.
“I came to learn the trade that no one knows,” said Paul.
“So did we! So did we!”
“Then what is the trade?”
“We do not know! We do not know!”
“You can never know if you obey the giants,” said the first head. “We were so keen to learn that we never went to the rooms while the giants were out, and on the third night the giants said we should never learn, and cut off our heads.”
Paul asked what he ought to do.
“Take this chain,” said the head. And it grunted and rocked across the floor towards him, dragging a chain between its teeth.
“It is only an iron chain,” said Paul, bending down to look at it. “Haven’t you a gold one?”
“If you ever understand its use, it will be of use to you.”
“Take it! Take it!” shouted the other heads, and they began to rattle and jump.
Paul took the chain quickly, and locked the door behind him.
This time the giants did not even bother to ask. They set about Paul as soon as they came in, and then they threw him out of the castle.
“Find your princess now,” they said. “You have learnt the trade that no one knows.”
Paul limped back home through the forest. Well, he thought, if that’s the case, then these bruises will have been worth it: but I wish I knew what I’ve learnt!
When he stood outside the palace he felt very unsure of himself. He was dirty and ragged, and he had no idea what to say to the princess. “At least I don’t have to go in stinking,” he said. And he st
ripped off his shirt to wash himself in the brook that ran below the palace wall. Under the shirt was the golden halter, and he unwound it and dropped it on the earth.
Immediately a caparisoned horse stood before him. He unwound the chain, and dropped that.
A hare and a greyhound appeared. And Paul was dressed in hunting green, astride the caparisoned horse, and the greyhound chased the hare.
And as they all passed below the high towers the king looked out and saw the splendour of the huntsman, and he sent heralds out to invite him to banquet at the palace.
Paul heard the riders behind him, and thought that he was being pursued, so he shook the halter and the chain, and the horse, the greyhound and the hare vanished, and he found himself sitting on the ground, dressed in his old clothes. The riders passed him by, and later returned to the king to say that the huntsman had outrun them on his horse of the wind.
Paul now went back to his parents’ hut, and after a good sleep he said to his father, “I am going to practise what I have learnt. When I have become a fine chestnut mare, take me to the palace. The king will buy me, but whatever you do, don’t sell the halter, or else I shall be a horse for ever.”
Paul shook the halter, and his father led off to market the finest chestnut mare that the city had ever seen. He asked such a high price for the mare that no one could afford to buy, and the news of it reached the king. He went to the market place, and as soon as he saw the mare he knew that he must have it for his stables. He gave the father the price that was asked, and ten gold crowns on top.
“I am afraid that Your Majesty can’t have the halter,” said the father.
“No matter,” said the king. “I shall have one made of gold and diamonds.”
When the father arrived home he shook the halter, and soon after nightfall his son came through the doorway. Next morning the city was full of the news that the king’s new chestnut mare, for which he had paid the highest price in memory, had gone from her stall.
When the wonder had died down, Paul took his father to the palace, and close beneath the wall he looked for a firm piece of level ground, and stood on it.
“Take this key, father,” he said, “and shake it. Sell me to the king – but whatever you do, don’t sell the key.”
The father shook the key, and below the palace wall, on a piece of firm and level ground, stood the finest church in the land.
When the king saw this church he sent out his heralds to find who had built it so quickly, and they came back and said that it was the work of a holy man, clothed in rags, who was willing to sell the church to the king for thirteen chests of treasure.
The king sent his heralds back to bargain with the holy man, and while they were doing so, the hag that had directed Paul to the giants came up, and she saw at once what was happening. Now this hag had herself learnt the trade that no one knows, and she was astonished to find that Paul had survived the giants and that she had a rival in the knowledge. So she joined in the bidding, against the king’s men. She waited until the king had offered seventeen chests of treasure, then she offered ten times that. The father was so confused that he forgot to keep hold of the key, and the hag was far away in the crowd before he remembered.
He ran after her, but she would not give up the key. “It is mine,” she said. “It belongs to the church, which I have paid so much for.”
The father seized the old woman by the neck and began to throttle her. In the swaying and fighting she dropped the key, and it changed into a dove, and soared over the palace wall into the gardens.
The hag became a hawk, and stooped upon the dove, but the dove became a garland and fell into the hands of the princess, who was walking in the rose arbours. The hag resumed her shape, and begged the princess for the garland. “For luck,” she said.
But the princess would not.
The hag tried to snatch the flowers, but they turned into millet seed, and scattered across the flagstones. The hag became hen and chickens, and pecked at the seed, but the seed was a fox, and it ate the hen and its chicks.
Then the fox became Paul.
“I come for your hand,” he said. “I have travelled the world to learn the trade that no one knows.”
“It seems that you have learnt it,” said the princess.
And there are still descendants of these two living today, and they worship at an old church, which is never locked, because the key to it was a young man who married a princess after he had learnt, for love of her, the trade that no one knows.
nce upon a time there was an old man and an old woman, and they had one son, and they lived in a great forest. And their son never saw any other people in his life, but he knew that there were some more in the world besides his own father and mother, because he had lots of books, and he used to read every day about them. And when he read about some pretty young women, he used to go mad to see some of them. Till one day, when his father was out cutting wood, he told his mother that he wished to go away to look for his living in some other country, and to see some other people besides them two. And he said, “I see nothing at all here but great trees around me; and if I stay here, maybe I shall go mad before I see anything.”
The young man’s father was out all this time, when the conversation was going on between him and his poor old mother.
The old woman begins by saying to her son before leaving, “Well, well, Jack, if you want to go, it’s better for you to go, but stop a bit before you go. Which would you like best for me to make you – a little cake and to bless you, or a big cake and to curse you?”
“Dear! Dear!” said he. “Make me a big cake. Maybe I shall be hungry on the road.”
The old woman made the big cake, and she went on top of the house, and she cursed him as far as she could see him.
He presently meets with his father, and the old man says to him, “Where are you going, Jack?” When the son told the father the same tale as he told his mother, “Well,” says his father, “I’m sorry to see you going away, but if you’ve made up your mind to go, it’s better for you to go.”
The lad had not gone far, till his father called him back; when the old man drawed out of his pocket a golden snuff-box, and said to him, “Here, take this little box, and put it in your pocket, and be sure not to open it till you are near your death.”
And away went poor Jack upon his road, and walked till he was tired and hungry, for he had eaten all his cake upon the road; and by this time night was upon him, as he could hardly see his way before him.
He saw some light a long way off, and he made up to it, and found the back door and knocked at it, till one of the maidservants came and asked him what he wanted. He said that night was on him, and he wanted to get some place to sleep. The maidservant called him in to the fire, and gave him plenty to eat, good meat and bread and beer; and as he was eating his refreshment by the fire, there came the young lady to look at him. And she loved him well, and he loved her.
And the young lady ran to tell her father, and said there was a pretty young man in the back kitchen. And immediately the gentleman came to him, and questioned him, and asked what work he could do. Jack said, the silly fellow, that he could do anything. (He meant that he could do any foolish bit of work, what would be wanted about the house.)
“Well,” says the gentleman to him, “at eight o’clock in the morning, I must have a great lake and some of the largest man-of-war vessels sailing before my mansion, and one of the largest vessels must fire a royal salute, and the last round break the leg of the bed where my young daughter is sleeping on. And if you don’t do that, you will have to forfeit your life.”
“All right,” said Jack. And away he went to his bed, and slept till it was near eight o’clock, and he had hardly any time to think what he was to do, till all of a sudden he remembered about the little golden box that his father gave him. And he said to himself, “Well, well, I never was so near my death as I am now,” and then he felt in his pocket, and drew the little box out.
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p; And when he opened it, there hopped out three little red men and asked Jack, “What is your will with us?”
“Well,” said Jack, “I want a great lake and some of the largest man-of-war vessels in the world before this mansion, and one of the largest vessels to fire a royal salute, and the last round to break one of the legs of the bed where this young lady is sleeping on.”
“All right,” said the little men; “go to sleep.”
Jack had hardly time to bring the words out of his mouth, to tell the little men what to do, but what it struck eight o’clock, when bang, bang went one of the largest man-of-war vessels; and it made Jack jump out of bed to look through the window. And I can assure you it was a wonderful sight for him to see, after being so long with his father and mother living in a wood.
By this time Jack dressed himself, and came down laughing, because he was proud, he was, because the thing was done so well.
The gentleman comes to him, and says to him, “Well, my young man, I must say that you are very clever indeed. Come and have some breakfast.” And the gentleman tells him, “Now there are two more things you have to do, and then you shall have my daughter in marriage.”
Jack gets his breakfast, and has a good squint at the young lady, and also she at him. (However, I must get on again with my dear little story.)
The other thing that the gentleman told him to do was to fell all the great trees for miles around by eight o’clock in the morning; and, to make my long story short, it was done, and it pleased the gentleman well. The gentleman said to Jack, “The other thing you have to do,” (and it was the last thing), “you must get me a great castle standing on twelve golden pillars; and there must come regiments of soldiers, and go through their drill. At eight o’clock the commanding officer must say, ‘Shoulder up!’.”
“All right,” said Jack. And when the third and last morning came, and the three great feats were finished, he had the young daughter in marriage.
But, oh dear! there is worse to come yet.
The gentleman now makes a large hunting party, and invites all the gentlemen around the country to it, and to see the castle as well. And by this time Jack has a beautiful horse and a scarlet dress to go with them. On that morning his valet, when putting Jack’s clothes by, put his hand in one of Jack’s waistcoat pockets and pulled out the little golden snuff-box, as poor Jack left behind in a mistake. And that man opened the little box, and there hopped the three little red men out, and asked him what he wanted with them.
