Fairy Tales For Sale

by Rosamunde Lee

  “I will go to him, though his castle is east of the sun and west of the moon.”

  “It is not as far as that,” Cottontail said, “but it will not help, for the poison’s hold is too strong now. You would only be going to watch him die.”

  “Then tell me what I must do!”

  “You must tell your father you are going on a hunt. Take the bravest men with you and head south. There you will find the Great Gold Lion, the Cinnamon Elephant and the Ebony Whale. Take their blood and mix them, so that from the hand of the woman who loves him, Garrin will be cured.”

  “But how will I find these beasts? And how get their blood?” Acrea cried, but the Cottontail had disappeared into the air.

  Acrea went to her father that very night and told him of her decision to go hunting. The old man feared for her, but she assured him there was nothing for her melancholy but this hunt. So, in the end, he relented. Acrea filled a trunk with three of her best dresses, then put on huntsmen’s clothes. Her Father gave her twenty-five of his best hunters and fifty dogs as well as enough money to see her around the world and back, and then she went off.

  The head huntsman’s name was Philippe. Acrea asked him where she might find these beasts, but he did not know, so they traveled South. They went hunting, but no deer or bear however large or beautiful interested Acrea enough to glance at much less chase after. The huntsmen and dogs grew restless without prey. Acrea did not notice for her part but asked everyone she met about the beasts she was seeking, though none could tell her of them. She crossed a sea and a desert and finally came to a great castle in a waste. Acrea sent Philippe to knock.

  An old man dressed in rich robes answered the door.

  “We want lodging for the night.”

  “Then go your way. This is the Castle of the Gold Lion and he allows not for visitors.” And the man shut the door.

  Acrea got her men ready to meet their prey. But it was not until nearly dusk that he came with his great gold mane shaking. He was bigger by half than the giant that Garrin had faced. She heard her men begin to tremble, the dogs fled away in a panic, and the horses’ eyes nearly started from their heads. Force would not be the way here. Acrea watched for a long while. The Gold Lion was not alone but was followed by his pride. His queens were bedecked in gold and silver, their claws were gilded and their eyes made up with kohl and ochre; their lips were the color of pomegranates. The Great Gold Lion allowed all to pass through the door. The last were the cubs. And there was one cub all bejeweled, who must have been the heir, with gold chains around his neck. Many other cubs followed, but the last wore the rarest flowers twined about her ears and bracelets of gold and ivory around her paws, and as she passed she bit the Gold Lion’s tail. He let out a roar and scooped her high into the air and onto his back so that she rode him into the house.

  Philippe came to Acrea and said, “It must be by trickery that we take this one, for not a thousand men could harm him.”

  “We are of one mind,” Acrea said.

  Philippe went off and spoke to his men. “We will take a cub and hold it ransom. And then we will have him.”

  “Which one?” the men asked.

  “The heir,” Philippe said.

  The next day the door was flung open at dawn, and the procession began again but this time the cubs came out first. When they were far enough ahead, the huntsmen attacked and grabbed the prince to Acrea’s surprise. The Gold Lion came out and walked on as if nothing had happened.

  Acrea berated Philippe as he had not understood her meaning. She demanded they take the cub with the flowers, for the Gold Lion’s heart was with her. He had a hundred sons but only this one daughter.

  They waited again for the sun to set and again the Gold Lion came leading his family. Again he stood at the door; again everyone passed. This time the huntsmen took the girl cub. The Gold Lion stood a long time waiting for her, but then he let out a wail and bounded about frantically looking for his daughter.

  “Here, King Lion,” Acrea said leading the cub. “I have your daughter.”

  The King roared and would have pounced if Acrea had not raised her sword to the cub’s throat.

  He stopped in mid-air and dropped to the ground. “What will you?”

  “You must put yourself in my power and submit to my will. I need your blood.”

  “No, papa,” the little cub cried. “Save yourself!”

  “It is her life or yours,” Acrea said.

  “Then it is mine,” the Gold Lion roared and came forward among the swords of Acrea’s huntsmen.

  Acrea let the cubs go. The girl looked back again and again, and her father had to send her harshly away.

  “I would not have you kill me before her eyes,” he said.

  “I would not have it either,” Acrea said. “Give me your paw.”

  The lion raised his paw, and she pricked it with her sword and drew out enough blood to fill a vial. “Thank you. You are now free.”

  Her huntsman stared at her. Philippe cried, “But his skin is worth a king’s ransom!”

  “Set him free!” she commanded.

  The swords were withdrawn from the Gold Lion.

  “There are those who would have slain me for that bit of blood and my whole family besides,” the beast said, “but you have shown restraint as well as wisdom. In return for my life, I give you two gifts. One, if you ever need help, only speak my name, and I will come to your aid. Two, know, that from here you must go East if you wish to find the Cinnamon Elephant. She lives by a great lake.” The Gold Lion bowed to Acrea, then bounded back to his castle. The sounds of rejoicing spilled out of the doors.

  To the east were great mountains and then endless plains. It was hard going. The season had been dry, and there was little water to be found and less game. After many days Acrea’s party came to a small watering hole, which had been turned to mud by the thrashings of a great gray elephant who was trying to free its baby that had become trapped in the muck. It bellowed and its sisters tried to help, but they could not free the youngster.

  “Let us go on,” Philippe said. “The great lake must be nearby, and we will find the elephant there and water to sate our thirst.”

  “No,” Acrea said, because her heart was full of pity for the great beasts. “Bring ropes and help the elephant child. If we can, we should neglect no good deed.”

  The huntsmen did as told. With ropes and the help of the other elephants, together they were able to dislodge the baby. She was released with a great popping sound, and water flowed up all around her, cleaning her of the mud. Then there she stood the color of cinnamon.

  “You have saved my life,” the Cinnamon Elephant said. “What reward would you have? I can make you rich beyond your dreams, young forever, the wisest of creatures on the earth.”

  The huntsmen gathered around.

  “I want naught,” said Acrea, “but enough blood to fill this vial.”

  “Is that all?” the elephant asked, and allowed her trunk to be pricked.

  “Because of your prudence and modesty,” the elephant said. I give you three gifts. First, if you are ever in need of me, speak to my blood, and I will come. Second, I can tell you that the Ebony Whale lives east of here, in the sea. Third, I have a strong net that will not hold a whale but still may help you.”

  Acrea and her men left the Cinnamon Elephant after a long meal and a good rest in her castle. There were great forests to be crossed to get to the whale, but the huntsmen found good game and they were well off. When Acrea reached the sea, she held the net out, and though the whales were too big to catch, their food was not. She caught all the krill in the sea. When the Ebony whale’s people became hungry, they complained to him and he came up to the shore.

  “Who starves my people?” the whale asked.

  “I did not mean any harm Great King, but only to have an audience with you,” Acrea bade her men to empty the net and the whales began to eat.

  “What do
you want with me?”

  “I require only enough blood to fill this vial,” she said.

  The whale agreed, though he was very timid and squeamish. But it was all done so quickly he did not know when it had begun or when it was over.

  “Since you were so gentle,” he said, “I will give you four gifts. If you speak to my blood I will come when you need me.

  And I have news of the Wizard King who dies from loving you. He is very ill, and you must hurry and waste no more time. I will give you a ride across this sea to his castle, and I will tell you how to gain entry since he sees no one.”

  Acrea sent her huntsmen home. She climbed on the whale’s back, and he took her smoothly over the sea though he mumbled a little that the prick hurt because of the salt. She reached Garrin’s kingdom on the tenth day of her journey. His was the most wonderful land she had ever seen. The streets were lined with white and red fruit trees. The poorest houses were beautiful as castles. There she found a room for herself and took out her traveling chest and dressed herself in her first dress that was bright as the blue day and went to the castle.

  It was all of grey marble trimmed with gold and silver. She had never seen anything so marvelous in all her life. She avoided the guards and found the secret door the whale had described and entered the loveliest of gardens. The walls were laden with gems. An auburn-haired girl greeted her as if she knew her, taking her into her arms.

  “I was sure you would not fail,” the young woman cried, “when I came to you I knew why he loved you so.”

  “You were the red rabbit,” Acrea said.

  “Yes. I am Garrin’s sister, Nira,” she explained. “You see, my brother forbade me to go to you and tell you how he suffered, but as a rabbit I was not myself, so I did not disobey him.”

  “So, he does not love me anymore?” Acrea asked, fearing more than she had when she stood before the Great Gold Lion.

  “Oh Acrea. . .” but Nira was cut off by Garrin, who called to her.

  “Hide! He is coming, and you will see if he loves you or not.”

  Garrin was carried by palanquin into the garden, looking pale and wan.

  “Ah, Nira, I thought I heard voices,” he sighed, “And one was so dear to my heart.”

  “No, it is only a bird, sweet brother,” she said, going to him. “You do not look well. Let me go to the fair princess Acrea and tell her how you suffer. She cannot be so cruel. . .”

  “She is not cruel,” he said, suddenly animated. “Never think such a thing!”

  “But if she knew how you loved her, perhaps she would come, and you could ask for her hand again.”

  “How I could I ask? I could never expect her favor. As Garrin the uncouth bridegroom I deserved her more, or even as the moth, but as the Wizard King never. There are more honorable swineherds. Sister, why do you torture me so with this talk? I should not have told you my secret pain, but I had to unburden my heart to someone.”

  “You do not love her, or you would let me go to her.”

  “I love her more than my life! I loved her when she was but a whisper of gossip on men’s lips. I formed a picture in my head from those threads, and went to see if she could live up to my dream. I did not expect that she could, but she exceeded it. I was mad with love when I just saw her face. But then as the moth I danced with her in moonlight and heard her thoughts like words, and as Garrin the groom I became her hero and loved her more than I ever did. And so would rather die than trouble her again with my unwanted attentions.”

  “What if she came here?” Nira asked. “Would you ask her then?”

  “Don’t talk foolishness.”

  “What if she were here? Would you see her?”

  “I could never face her,” he said, turning away. “Nira, you stir up deep waters for nothing!”

  Garrin called for his bearers to take him back to his room.

  “Do you see what a state he is in?” Nira asked Acrea when he was gone.

  Acrea’s heart went to Garrin, but how could she go to him if he would not even face her. There had to be a way though. Acrea thought for a while then said, “Go to Garrin now, tell him a princess has come with his cure and as payment she asks for his hand in marriage.”

  “He will not see you. He will see no one,” Nira cried.

  “Go and tell him. Then come back to tell me what he has said.”

  Acrea paced the gardens for some hours waiting for news. Nira did not return until nearly nightfall. Her face was flushed.

  “There is great turmoil in the court,” she gasped. “Garrin refuses to see you, but his advisors continue to insist.”

  Acrea smiled to herself. “Tomorrow, go and say to Garrin, that I will give him the cure if we will consent to be my betrothed for a year so that he will see if he would like to marry me.”

  The next day Nira went to her brother. She returned hours later. Acrea had put on her second most beautiful dress, which was brighter than the sun in case he relented, but he had not. Nira told her all that he said.

  “Go to him again and say, I will give him the cure for an audience with him,” Acrea suggested.

  Nira went back to her brother, but this time she returned quickly.

  “He was stubborn still,” she explained, “and it was not until his counselors threatened to quit him and many barons to wage war that he has given his consent to the audience.”

  Nira hugged her and Acrea’s heart trembled with fear and joy. Acrea mixed the three vials to make the cure, then Nira helped her put on her most gorgeous dress. It was more terrible than the night for splendor, and the cloak was made with the feathers of swans and peacocks, so that she looked like the moth he had changed her into. She went to him, cure in hand. Nira led her, then left her alone with Garrin. He turned red then grey.

  “Have you come to mock me, Princess?” he said finally. “Or to watch me die?”

  “Neither, Wizard King, I have come to give you a cure.”

  “And why should you wish to cure me?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “Now you are being cruel! Leave me! You have had your audience!”

  With tears in her eyes, Acrea handed the cure to his retainer. “I have gone far and suffered much to attain this for you, Wizard King, which should be proof enough of the veracity of my words. Know then that this cure will not work unless it is administered to you by the hand of the woman who loves you.”

  Acrea ran out of the chamber sobbing, but she would not give up hope, for had she not faced the Lion, the Elephant and the whale to come here? She sat again with Nira in the garden. They were not long consoling one another when much rushing was heard in the castle. Acrea’s heart nearly broke as she feared for Garrin’s health. Nira let go of her hand and stepped forward as the messenger neared.

  The messenger bowed. “The King wishes to know if Princess Acrea is still here, Lady?”

  Acrea stepped forward.

  The messenger bowed to her. “The king asks if you will attend him.”

  Nira squeezed her hand, and again Acrea went to face Garrin.

  He lay on a great mound of pillows, and held the vial in his hand thoughtfully. “I will only be cured by the one who loves me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then my life is in your hands,” he said, holding out the vial.

  Acrea took but a drop and touched it to the wound on his cheek and it disappeared. Garrin gained his health and his strength back in a moment.

  “Then you do love me, for true?” he asked.

  “I loved you as the deer, the rabbit, the bird, the moth, and to my shame the youth on his way to his wedding. He has been a long time getting there. Let us not delay any longer.”

  Garrin stood and placed the ring he had pretended to find in the water upon her finger as a token of his troth. “No, let us not.”

  He took her into his arms and finally kissed her. Acrea knew then the love of the moth for the flame and the flame for the
moth. News of their engagement was spread throughout the kingdom and plays and masquerades and public feasts were commissioned to celebrate their love story.

  Acrea sent to her old father and told him the news. She called on her friends the Lion, the Elephant and the Whale to bring him to the Wizard King’s castle, so he could share in her joy. He attended the wedding and decided to stay with them, for he did not like being alone. The festivities took a year and two months to finish, and moths came to the windows every night, covering the glass to see all the pretty goings on.

  Sun, Shadow and Storm

  In this humorous contemporary tale, a Lost Elf Prince is invited back home but with conditions.

  It is said that the old King of Elfland faded away, or passed on to another realm, or saw something that caught his fancy and that he deemed better than sitting on a throne and ruling his people, and so he left and was not seen again. Which of these assertions was the truth or how many of these excuses were really the case, no one knew. All that was known was that the seat of glory made of the oldest of trees, a silver-barked immensity with roots that dug down and down to the heart of the world, remained empty long enough for someone to take notice(a few hundred years at best guess). It was then decided by the elder elves, who were very old indeed, that a new king should be crowned and take his seat on the throne.

  It was known that the old king and queen of Elfland once had a son. A great and shining babe he was said to have been (though no one had seen him) with arms plump as sugar plums and smooth as oiled dough. It was agreed by all that he would have to do. It was decided over a few years and many long murmurings, for the Elvish race hurries at nothing, that the young man should be found and informed and the stars consulted for his choice of wife since no king of Elfland can take his throne without a Queen upon his knee.