Grab, spin, throw.
He paid no attention to the strands of black hair falling in front of his eyes, or his breaths, which grew labored. Rhythm consumed him.
Grab, spin, throw.
I stood mesmerized, watching him work. The rotation never ceased, the straw turning to gold between his fingers, agile hands releasing and repositioning a fresh spool quicker than I could catch. It was violent, and yet beautiful at the same time.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and fetch me some straw instead of gawking at me.” His voice broke through my reverie. “I should be very grateful if I can have this finished before winter.”
“Yes, of course—right away.”
I grabbed one of the empty baskets and started filling it with several armfuls of straw.
I don’t know how many I placed by his side, but it seemed an endless amount. Every time I would leave him the pile would be high, and when I returned not moments later, it was already gone. Sweat broke across my forehead, but I forced myself to keep up with him. He worked more diligently than anyone I’d ever witnessed, yet he showed no signs of fatigue. In fact, quite the opposite. It was as if the spinning empowered him. Made him glow more brightly. He made me feel lazy by comparison, and I never shirked from intense labor.
Slowly, the mountains of straw shrunk into hills, and then into mounds as I watched spool upon spool fill with gold. The baskets began overflowing, causing him to resort to simply tossing the filled bobbins any which way.
“I wonder what the king has planned with so much gold?” he asked, flinging the final spool against the wall beside him, a loud crack reverberating across the floor. “Hopefully he will use it towards something remotely useful, like remodeling this castle. Do you realize how old fashioned a dungeon is these days?”
I couldn’t help but smile, imagining the king spending his wealth on such a project, let alone choosing fabric and debating where the furniture should be placed.
“Yes, but I dare say anyone he hires for such a thing will have a better chance of becoming a part of the foundation than receiving payment,” I joked, feeling as if I was finally catching my breath from all the miserable and miraculous surprises of the past day.
For a moment, he shared in my amusement, a flicker of delight dancing across his gaze. It was short-lived. The cool exterior he wore so elegantly returned and only grew colder. He stood from the wheel and brushed a few specks of straw debris off his shirt.
“Now that your head is safe, I fear I must I be off,” he said.
“Wait!” I cried, “What is your name? I must know. You’ve saved me this night, and I will be forever grateful.”
He stopped, his shoulders rolling back and remaining stiff. He turned his head and said, “I am nothing but a good-hearted stranger.”
With that, he vanished, leaving behind no trace he had ever been there except for the gold surrounding me. Had I blinked? He was there, and then simply…not.
What sort of being was I dealing with?
Chapter Two
The Second Day: Laila
The king stood in absolute silence, his eyes caressing the sight of the towers of gold encircling us. Each spool was more radiant than the next. Dumbfounded, he picked a heavy spool from the nearest stack and slowly unwound the golden thread around his finger to inspect the miracle before him.
“It’s genuine. All of it. Your father wasn’t a liar after all,” he said before he bit the thread between his teeth. “I told you my methods produce results. I am happy you saw reason and succumbed to my wishes rather than remain defiant. Isn’t it much simpler this way?”
He caressed the spool lovingly. Watching him made me feel ill, even though my stomach protested its lack of food in the past day. Taking great care, he placed it back among his new collection, his gaze moving away from the glitter to meet my own.
“You are truly a marvel, a bright star that is beautiful to behold, dear Laila. Such a pure and brilliant talent flows through you,” he said, taking my hands within his and bestowing a kiss. I could feel the prickle of his beard, the sensation rough and foreign. I wanted to rip away from him, but I thought it wise not to attempt such a bold move. He wavered between insane and benign too closely and too quickly.
“As I have pleased your majesty and done what you asked, may I now return to my mill?” I spoke instead, disgusted by the wet patches he left after each kiss.
His grip tightened at my words. Damn.
“Return? But my dear, you’ve spun so little gold this night. You can’t expect me to allow someone of such miraculous skill to leave? No, that wouldn’t do. Not yet anyway,” he stated bluntly.
My breathing hitched. Should I really have expected anything else from such a lunatic? My towers of hope came crashing down around me even as he gazed at his towers of gold yet again.
“But I spun your gold, I should be freed. That was what you told—”
“You will spin as much as I desire,” he snapped back. “If you refuse, I will make sure the executioner’s blade is exceptionally dull, so every strike he must take to hack through that pretty neck of yours will be agony.”
He grazed my collarbone with hot fingertips.
“This gold you’ve spun is quite impressive to be sure, but I fear it is just a taste of the true bounty you will afford my kingdom. Tonight your delicate fingers will work their magic once more, and they will continue to do so until I am satisfied.”
I wanted to scream, to fight, to bash one of those heavy spools into his greasy temple until his skull cracked like an egg, its sick yolk spilling out onto the stones. But all I could do was nod in obedience. I didn’t want to antagonize his madness further.
“Excellent,” he said. “Now the only question is what to do with you until everything is prepared.”
He grabbed my chin, turning my head to the right, then left. I wanted to ask him if he wished to count my teeth like a proper buyer of a horse.
“It is a shame such beauty is hidden by a layer of grime and muck,” he said, his tone thick with lust.
He released my jaw.
“Don’t worry, my dear, there is no need for alarm. I am not a complete monster,” he chuckled, wiping a smear of dirt from my cheek. “In fact, I believe you deserve a bit of pampering for your labor. Perhaps a bath? And a new dress. Yes. A girl always loves a new dress.”
He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me along back towards the stairs. As we ascended I couldn’t help but look back at the empty spinning wheel, knowing it would not be long until the room was replenished with straw, needing to be spun into gold.
My thoughts fell immediately to the stranger who had saved my life. But would he come again? I hardly knew how he had “sensed it” as he said the first time. My mind started reeling with each step trying to figure it out. There had to be some way to contact him, but how?
Light streamed through stained glass windows as we emerged from the dungeon. I couldn’t help but notice the exquisite tapestries again as we passed through the maze of hallways. The princesses were still frozen, and the knights continued to rescue them from fabled threats. They were the same, and in a way, I felt a measure of their glamor. For had I not faced death and been rescued at the last minute by a powerful stranger?
I felt for my necklace as I always did in times I needed strength, but as I rubbed naked skin I remembered it was gone. The princesses’ hollow eyes knew what I was just beginning to understand. Salvation came at a price.
The king stopped at the end of the hall and opened a door. I was determined to despise whatever it would be. I wanted nothing from him but the freedom he promised. But when my eyes fell on the room, I forgot my angry words and frantic fight.
It was the most beautiful, luxurious room I had ever seen. Persian rugs, gilt furniture, and a proper bed filled a space larger than the entire hovel I had called home. Stunned, I stared at the fine fabrics and filigreed fripperies surrounding me.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? I thought
it might please you,” the king said with shining eyes. “I told you I wasn’t such a dragon as all that.”
Unable to stop myself, I ran my hand down one of the wooden posts of the bed. The mattress was not a mat of molding straw and rough linen, but filled to bursting with actual feathers. Pillows covered in silk waited enticingly. My body ached to know the sensation of such comfort.
“Your majesty,” a small voice piped behind us.
A plump older woman stood in the doorway, waiting for orders. Her face flushed red as the king motioned her to enter.
“I want you to make sure she is well rested and refreshed for tonight,” he told the woman. “And, good God, give her a decent gown to wear. I can’t stand to look at something so poor any longer. It makes me ill.”
She bowed. I knew my appearance was far from refined, but I doubted that mind of his could be any more ill than it already was. Taking my hand, he placed one last kiss upon it, sending a shiver of hatred down to my toes. Then he left, and I was alone with the woman, who was clucking at me in disapproval.
“My what a vision, or perhaps nightmare is more like it!” she exclaimed grabbing me and forcefully turning me around. “Will take quite a bit of work, this will. Such awful tangles! But, I think you’ll clean up quite nicely once I’m through with you.”
Immediately, thick fingers pulled out pieces of straw from my hair. She squinted as she roved over every lock on my head, making sure she extracted every last fragment with a surgeon’s skill. Once satisfied, she pulled me into an adjoining room, where a large copper bath filled with steaming water stood in the middle. I watched in awe as she poured a pitcher of milk, flower petals and several drops of fragrant oil in the water.
The fragrance was tempting, and it made my determination to hate the king’s sick generosity all the more difficult.
“Come now, don’t be shy,” she said kindly.
The water lapped enticingly against the metal tub. She removed my clothes, nasty remarks about the state of each garment whispered under her breath.
Looking again at the milky water with a frown, I slowly dipped my foot in. Immediately the sensation of warmth flowed over my body. It was everything I feared it would be…glorious.
Sinking further into the soft scents of lavender and rose, I momentarily forgot that death eagerly awaited me. I forgot that I was only a peasant, the daughter of a drunk. For that brief moment, I was one of those ladies floating through the courtyard, men bowing reverently as I gracefully passed by.
I was a princess.
I was a queen.
The Second Day: Rumpelstiltskin
“Nothing but a good hearted stranger.”
That is what I had told her. If she knew the truth about my heart, I doubt she would find my company so agreeable.
I held her necklace between my fingers, tiny rubies twinkling like stars in a miniature night sky. Though a tad sentimental, she was quite a curious creature.
When I first appeared before her, I expected to find her strewn across a bed of straw, arms flailed behind her head, a river of tears flowing into a pool by her side. Instead, she stood over those dried twigs, a torch gripped in hand hovering menacingly above its feast. I couldn’t help but find this reaction beguiling. Not every girl is willing to burn herself to death simply to spite a king. That’s a spirit and sentiment I could heartily approve.
I coiled the necklace into a box and stored it away. There were more important things I needed to attend to besides pondering suicidal women, such as the king’s predictable demand for more gold.
His greed would ultimately be his ruin. I had provided the first maddening taste. Now all I had to do was allow nature to take its inevitable course. It was beautiful to witness. He would pay a thousand times over with everything he held dear for what he had done to me.
I walked towards the window. Moonlight streamed in through the rippled pane of crown glass, illuminating the room with its cool glow. I opened the window to the night, breathing the chilled air with a deep hunger for despair.
My predatory heart pounded, feeding on the insatiable hunger that was driving me to the inevitable moment when Laila’s name would belong to me. She had to sign it away, of course, but, I had no doubt she would happily bind herself to my pretty lies.
Closing my eyes and allowing my hunger to sharpen and stretch out, I searched for her. Though the sky was black I could easily see the entire landscape of the kingdom reveal itself to me. Rolling hills divided into a patchwork of fields before they bled into the stark buildings of the town. None of that interested me except for the little pinpoints of light floating like fireflies below. They glowed brightly, some moving like blood through the veins of the streets, while others congealed in the homes. Each was a tragic soul, their desperate flames tempting me to offer them something better. Going higher, I rose above them. Tonight, there was only one flame I cared about.
Great turrets surged upwards, breaking the monotonous night sky as the castle came into view, the little flames walking hurriedly within its walls. They didn’t notice the thing watching them, seeping into every crack and crevice, searching for the girl who wished it could all be but a bad dream. My heart quickening as I heard a low tone rise from the depths of the castle. A sad refrain vibrated between angry and terrified, but the bass note was pure desperation.
Dear little Laila was calling to me.
Once again, it was time for me to save the day.
A vision of terrifying beauty stood before me.
An ocean of flaxen twigs engulfed the floor. Golden waves crashed against pillars and walls. Every surface was washed by the roiling surf except for the small island where Laila stood like Andromeda chained to her rock, waiting for the monster...or me, as was the case.
What truly caught my attention was her transformation. She no longer resembled the ragged little thing I first encountered, but was now some great beauty that held herself in a way that was nearly regal. The wild strands had been tamed into a cascading braid of chestnut, and a gown of blue velvet swathed her in twilight hues. She flushed becomingly as her well-supported bosom rose and fell with each breath.
Those bloody boring baser instincts of my body stirred at the sight of her delectable décolletage, but I shook it off. I had work to do. Besides, I was a gentleman, at least when I was given the chance to be.
“It looks like our dear monarch has become quite the patron of your craft,” I snickered. “He’s even gone to the trouble of giving you a room double the size of last night. How very considerate of him!”
“You’ve returned!” she exclaimed, whirling around to face me.
"Of course I’ve returned. You can't think me so rude as to abandon you when your lovely head is still on the line?” I asked, placing a hand over my heart feigning insult. “That just wouldn’t be right.”
Her dress was cut low, leaving little to the imagination, and I could plainly see her breasts rising with another deep breath as she studied me. I wished she would put them away. Their distraction was a damned nuisance.
I looked around the room, trying to calculate how much gold all the straw would become. The sum I came up with was enormous. I was impressed by just how much the king’s greed had blossomed since the night before.
“Whatever has he required of you this time? Wait. Let me guess. More gold, perhaps?”
She twisted her gown in her hands, and something like resentment stiffened her features.
“The king demands this entire room be spun into gold before dawn. If not, well, you already know.” Her voice was hollow.
“I wish the king would be more imaginative with his punishments. It’s always death for this and death for that. Death is so boring!” I groaned, rolling my eyes and shaking my head.
“Death is not boring when your life is the one being threatened,” she snapped. “You are a callous man, or whatever you are, to be so droll at a time like this.”
“My, my. You have a nice set of claws you keep hidden with that pretty
new manicure,” I replied, circling her slowly. “But, I would recommend you not antagonize the only one willing and able to help you. It looks like there is quite a lot more work to be done tonight, and I’m beginning to wonder if I even feel up to it. And for your information, I am…very much a man, I just happen to have a few improvements over my peers.”
Her lips tightened, as if to keep hasty words from coming out, words that might lead me to disappear along with all her hope of survival.
“I’m sorry for my outburst,” she said finally. “I’m so rattled between fear and anger that I don’t know what’s up or down.”
“Don’t apologize.” I stopped in front of her. “In fact, you had better harness some of that anger if you wish to survive this adventure. That brings to mind…however did you achieve getting yourself in this odd predicament?”
“My father. He boasts and brags, telling lies that have imperiled us more than once. He is the reason I have to spin straw into gold. The bastard betrayed me, all to impress a few drunks and save his own neck.”
I was no stranger to the pain in her tone. It poisoned me, its bitter taste lingering behind every word. I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
“You are in luck, as I’m feeling quite generous today. I suppose I can spare the time to help you again,” I said.
She opened her arms, as if hoping to launch herself into my embrace. Not wanting to engage in anything so frivolous, I put out a cautioning hand, stopping her dead in her tracks.
“Not so fast,” I stated. “You might want to hear my conditions before you decide to garland me with such affection. Tempting as it might be, I cannot simply spin this all for free. What will you give me for my efforts?”
She looked bewildered, her hand instinctively touching her now naked neck.
“I gave you my necklace. I don’t have anything of value left to give you,” she said, trembling.
Spin: A Fairy Tale Retelling (Spindlewind Trilogy Book One) Page 3
