Briar and Rose and Jack

by Katherine Coville

  Lan too hears the giant’s bell, and his one thought is that this may finally be his chance to prove himself. He pulls out his sling and starts to make his own way through the mob in the courtyard.

  Beyond the far field, the giant comes stomping through the forest, avarice in his eye, mayhem in his heart. He is in a foul temper. His house is not grand enough, and he’s decided that he doesn’t have nearly enough gold. He is convinced that the king is holding out on him, and he is in a rage. Suddenly he stops to pull a tree twice his size up by the roots. Stripping the smaller branches off it, he drags it along with him until he reaches the castle wall. Without further ado, he lifts the tree trunk and, using it as a club, bashes down the castle wall, blow after blow after blow, until it’s open all the way to the ground.

  “Ha! Ha!” the giant laughs. “Now I feel better!”

  Inside the broken castle, people are screaming and scrambling to escape the turmoil. The king, miraculously unscathed, stands trembling behind the battlements, heartbeats slamming in his chest, trying to gather his courage to attempt to somehow placate the giant. Putting a horn to his lips in order to be heard, he tries to make a noise, but the words won’t come. Finally, he spouts, “Giant! Please, Giant. What have we done to displease you, Your Honor, sir?”

  The giant, feeling a sudden pain on his ankle, like a bee sting, says, “Ow!” Bending down to clasp his hand over it, he sees a trickle of blood and finds himself being “stung” again and again all about his face. The Giant Killers are fighting back! From behind every cottage, bush, and tree, they sling their stones at the terrible giant. Jack draws blood from the giant’s ear. Young Bridget strikes him in the neck, and Briar, who has just joined them, fires a shot to his forehead. Dudley and Jarrett, Bertha and Quentin, Maddox and Emma and Marian, and all the others hurl their best shots until the giant roars with fury. He catches only glimpses of them, but begins to stomp indiscriminately all around him as they strategically retreat.

  Meanwhile, Lan has worked his way free of the panic-stricken crowds. He stands on a pile of fallen stones, squarely in front of the hole in the castle wall, watching the giant on his rampage. At last, the Giant Killers are forced to flee, and the giant, having bashed in several cottages, turns his attention to the castle again.

  “Bring me food!” he bellows. “Bring me treasure! Twice as much! Do it now, before I knock this whole castle down!”

  Rose, halfway up the tower stairs, hears the giant’s yell and stops to look out one of the narrow windows. She can see the giant and, through the hole he has made in the castle wall, the piles of rubble and the soldiers trying to help the injured. Then she makes out a lone figure standing straight and unbowed on a pile of broken stones. There is something about him that captures her attention. She sees him turn sideways, his left arm facing the giant, his right hand holding a sling. She sees his face in profile as he puts something in the sling. Even at this distance she can tell: it’s Lan! Lan, facing the giant, all alone! She starts to call out his name but chokes it back for fear of distracting him.

  Lan stands very still for a moment, staring into the giant’s face. Suddenly he twirls the sling, rotating it once. Twice. On the third circle, in a quick motion, he thrusts every part of his body—legs, waist, shoulders, arms, elbows, and wrist—in the direction of the target with all his strength, releasing the stone at the top of its rotation, hurling it straight into the giant’s eye.

  “Aaarrrgghhh!” shrieks the giant, clapping his hand over his eye and bending over double. “You! I’ll get you!” he screams, blindly making a swipe for Lan with his free hand. Lan tries to jump out of the way, but the giant’s huge hand closes around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides, and he is caught! He kicks furiously, to no avail.

  The giant goes on bellowing with pain as he shakes Lan back and forth, nearly snapping his neck. A different scream comes from the tower window. “Lan!” For a moment Rose is frozen in helpless despair. Then she runs, panic-stricken, back down the stairs and out across the courtyard, where several of the villagers grab her arms and keep her from going closer. “No, Princess! You mustn’t go any farther!” they say. Rose struggles against them, dissolving into tears and calling out Lan’s name again and again.

  The giant shakes Lan some more. The titan curses and moans, still covering his eye. “A special, slow death for you!” he bellows, and he turns, kicks down every cottage within easy reach, and lumbers unsteadily away, taking Lan with him.

  * * *

  A new day dawns, full of sorrow: sorrow for the fallen, sorrow for the ruined castle and the caved-in cottages, and sorrow for young Lan, who risked his life to fight the giant. About this last, there is great controversy. Some call him brave and laud him for injuring the giant and driving him away without stealing any of their harvest or treasure. Others call him foolhardy, and worse. They say that he only angered the giant, who had kicked in six cottages and would surely be back to vent even greater rage on them. Whichever side they were on, all were living in dread of the giant’s return. None within the castle had witnessed the assault by the brave Giant Killers, who had inflicted their “bee stings” from various hiding places. Now they have put their slings away, going about their business with lips sealed.

  Meanwhile, Bishop Simon offers no comfort to the giant’s victims. Rather he roars from his pulpit that the villagers had brought on the tragedies themselves through their own wickedness, that they deserved this suffering. Though they dare not voice their objections, the afflicted chafe under this cold, unjust condemnation.

  At the edge of the village, there is tragedy too: there is nothing left to eat at Jack’s house, and to make matters worse, their last remaining cow can give no more milk. No milk means nothing to take to market and sell. They had sold the chickens’ eggs until the chickens stopped laying; then they had eaten the chickens. Now no milk and nothing to sell means nothing to eat for Jack or his mother that day or the days to come. Mother Mudge hands Jack the cow’s reins, wiping her brow and closing her eyes weakly.

  “I feel so poorly, Jack. Here. You take her to the marketplace and make a good bargain, son! She’s all we’ve got!”

  Jack nods, patting his mother gently on the back, for in his mind is forming a desperate plan. He has long thought of going back to the giant’s house, if he could find a way that was faster than the arduous route he previously traversed up the great mountain and across the clouds. He’s been thinking of a nearly toothless little old man who hangs around the marketplace every autumn, always peddling some fantastic magical article. This year Jack has seen him there, hawking magic beans, beans that would grow a beanstalk up to the sky, the old man said. The villagers ignored him. What would anyone do with a beanstalk so enormous anyway? You couldn’t eat beans that big. And the old man wanted three pieces of gold for the beans! Jack would never have three pieces of gold, but he has a cow, and he sees an opportunity . . .

  * * *

  The whole castle is in an uproar, working in a frenzy to repair the damage done by the giant before the guests start to arrive for Rose’s sixteenth birthday celebration. The king has commanded that preparations must still go on according to schedule. Turning a deaf ear to his counselors’ cautions, the king is resolute that despite the giant’s attack, this is to be the grandest ball their utmost efforts can produce. Amid the chaos, the lords and ladies of the court are making ready their best finery and polishing what jewelry is left to them, determined to put on a decent display for the visiting royalty, and the royals are arriving despite the widespread tales of the dreadful giant. In spite of him, all the bravest kings and princes from near and far are coming to court the stunning Princess Rose, willing to risk just about anything to be chosen as her husband.

  As the preparations go forth, all but the young people are remembering that calamitous day, not quite sixteen years ago, when the infant Rose was cursed by the gray fairy. Even the elderly have not forgotten, and their hearts are breaking for their young princess and her fate. For
sixteen years they have kept their fear hidden, forbidden to speak of it, so that the child could grow up without the threat of it hanging over her. And yet no one even knew about the firstborn twin, caught somewhere in mid-switch with Rose in the royal cradle. Could she have been cursed too? No one knows to ask. No one has ever questioned the story that Briar is the orphan of the Duke and Duchess of Wentmoor, and no one could possibly imagine that she, with her malformed face, is the firstborn princess. But Hilde has carried the secret all these years, and on the eve of the twins’ birthday, she has sent for Briar, to warn her.

  * * *

  “You did what?” Briar asks in total bewilderment. “Switched me? With Rose? But why?”

  “You must try to understand, dear. When you were orphaned and came to us, I felt an immediate kinship with you. I knew how difficult your life would be, and it seemed so unfair. I did it for you, dear, to get you some of the blessings of the fairies.”

  “But they were supposed to be for Rose? What were they?”

  “Ah, well, you needn’t concern yourself with that,” Hilde says, swatting away the imp, who is, as usual, fluttering about her head in an obnoxious manner. “The important thing for you to know is that you may have been affected by the gray fairy’s curse as well. She decreed that on Rose’s sixteenth birthday she would touch the spindle of a spinning wheel and die—”

  “Die? No! I won’t let her!”

  “Hush, child. It won’t be that terrible, after all. The gold fairy altered the curse, so that she would only fall asleep. But just at that moment, I was switching you. So maybe you will fall asleep instead. Or you both will. Or possibly you both escaped the curse altogether. But even if one of you does fall into a magical sleep, the gold fairy decreed that you may be awakened by true love’s kiss.”

  “True love’s kiss? But who would ever kiss me? If I fall asleep, I’ll never wake up. I’ll be as good as dead!”

  “Only heaven knows about that, my dear. But that’s why I’m warning you. Stay away from spinning wheels! The king commanded that every spinning wheel in the kingdom should be destroyed, and that’s why you’ve never seen one. It’s like a drop spindle, but it’s part of a machine. Imagine a big wheel that goes around while thread is fed onto a little spindle that’s sharp on top. This is what you mustn’t touch.”

  “But who will warn Rose? She must be told too!”

  “No doubt the queen will tell her, now that the time has come.”

  “Maybe I should tell her, just to be sure.”

  “And how will you tell her that you know? No one is to speak of it, on pain of death!”

  “Then you just risked your life for me!”

  “That is because I value your life more than my own.”

  Briar puts her arms around Hilde’s neck and embraces her with tears in her eyes. “Thank you, dear godmother!” Drawing away, she says, “But if I tell Rose, I won’t tell her how I know. I’ll just warn her about the spinning wheel. She’ll have to trust me. If she will. We don’t always get along.”

  “You are a young woman now and must use your own judgment. It is your life you’ll be risking! You must do what you think is best.”

  Briar is thoughtful on her way down from Hilde’s tower. Another secret, she thinks, and now it is up to her to decide what to do with it. Halfway down the stairs, she is aware that the imp is following her. She swats it away from her head, but it stays with her, now flying just ahead of her, as if leading her. It precedes her all the way down the stairs, across the courtyard, and through the great hall to the stairway which ascends to her attic room. There, in a dark corner, part of the way up the stairs, the imp halts, hovering over what looks like a slight crack in the wall.

  Briar recognizes this place as the entrance to the old secret passageway. In recent years the girls have mostly ignored it; after daring each other to go back in and find the bones of the mythical builder of the passageway, they had returned several times. But there was never anything important to listen in on. Not like that one time when Briar had overheard the king’s counselors discussing Rose not being the true heir. All these years, Briar has tried not to remember it herself, but thinking of the passageway reminds her. What would the king’s counselors have to say about it now—with Rose about to turn sixteen and be married off as the heir to the kingdom?

  The imp, perhaps with its unerring instinct for trouble, scratches and worries at the crack in the wall, tempting Briar to see if she can still open the hidden door. Despite her caution, she feels drawn toward the imp. It occurs to her that she is tall enough to reach the peepholes by herself now. She could go and listen, and none would be the wiser. What was the worst that could happen? She could overhear some other secret or have to carry some other burden to add to what she already knows? But she might hear something good, something reassuring. Or she might not hear anything at all. She listens for the sound of anyone coming, but there is nothing. Reaching out her hand, she pushes against the wall, here, there, and finally it gives, opening into a cavern of darkness. She borrows a candle from a wall sconce and enters, the imp fluttering on before her, the door closing behind her.

  The passageway is even more dreadful than she recalls, the smell of damp mold permeating the air, the walls slimy to the touch, and cobwebs everywhere. But now that she has begun, the imp seems to lure her onward. She pushes through the cobwebs and tries not to think too much about the creatures who made them. Soon she comes to the flight of uneven stairs that she remembers from before. She climbs them cautiously, relying on the dim light from her candle, and keeps going. Surely the peephole is still there! She lifts the candle and begins to look for it, just a little hole in the wall. Her search is soon rewarded. She lowers the candle and puts her eye to the hole. The room she sees is empty. Disgusted that she has come through the dark and filth for nothing, she is distracted by the imp, who has gone on farther down the passage and seems to be waiting for her. Why not? she thinks. I’ve come this far.

  She goes on, turns a corner, and follows the passage for a long way, until she comes to another flight of stairs. Trailing after the imp, she climbs them, and at the top she dimly hears voices. Cautiously, she searches to see where the voices are coming from and locates the other hole in the wall. She peers through it and finds herself looking at the king and queen in their own room. She feels a thrill of fear. This is not her business. Surely if she were caught spying on the king and queen, she would be in terrible trouble. She is about to turn and go back when she overhears the queen saying, “So you’re thinking of marrying our Rose off to King Udolf? He’s nearly as old as you are, and he’s crass and ruthless!”

  “These are not bad qualities in a king!” King Warrick replies. “Would you have him be mincing and ineffectual?”

  “No, I would have him be civil and just.”

  Briar’s attention is riveted, and she cannot turn away. She puts her ear to the hole and listens.

  “Well, we must take him as we find him,” the king insists, “for without him we are lost. The giant is never satisfied! And now he’ll be back—and worse than ever! I’ve sold another hundred acres of land to the goblins just to keep the treasury going. If we keep on at this rate, they will be sitting on the throne!”

  “And what if the fairies’ spells come true and Rose is put to sleep on her birthday? Who can break the spell with true love’s kiss? Not Udolf! I’ve heard tell of his proclivities. He’s incapable of feeling anything but lust! We’ll lose her. What will happen to all your plans then? She must be warned!”

  “I’ve had every spinning wheel in the kingdom burned. How is she going to prick her finger on one? If that’s not enough to calm you, we’ll put her under guard! But believe me, we need only ensure that our daughter knows her royal duty. I’ve already told Udolf that he is—so far—my favorite. And he has hinted that if he’s dazzled enough by her beauty, he’ll pay a rich bride price. At any rate, you must swallow your fears and be nice to him. He has an army ten times the size of our castle g
uard, an army big enough to take on the giant! Surely he would defend his new bride’s kingdom from the giant’s depredations, and then we could finally be free of the monster, start a whole new chapter, and regain our good fortunes! Udolf will be arriving at any time with his whole retinue. Then let the feasting begin!”

  “And we’re hosting this great feast for Udolf and all the rest of them? I suppose you will provide for it in the usual way?”

  “Oh, leave that to me, wife. Believe me, we will never go hungry. Our secret stockpile of food and treasure will be more than adequate. As long as we have the Giant Tax, you should have no fear of it running out.”

  After a pause, Queen Merewyn speaks. “You run a terrible risk, husband. Beware of the news getting out, or you will have a very unhappy populace on your hands. What would they think of your double-dealing, when their own families are going hungry?”

  “You needn’t worry that the rabble—or the giant—will ever hear tell of it! You may be sure that only a handful of our most trusted servants know of it, and they value their lives too much to spill the secret. And there’s much more to be considered than the unhappy populace. My counselors insist on being maintained in a certain style. In fact, they’ve forced me to raise their pay! Why, the bishop’s demands alone could bankrupt me! If I didn’t look out for myself, they’d bleed me dry! And what the villagers don’t know won’t hurt them. They’ll be grateful for the leftovers.”

  Briar can bear to hear no more. She turns and retraces her steps through the moldy passageway, trying to come to terms with what she has heard. A secret stockpile of food for the king? While Jack and his mother, and Arley and Bridget, and Dudley and Jarrett, Bertha, Quentin, and Maddox, and all the rest of them go to bed hungry? She can hardly believe it. And Rose to be married off to some “crass and ruthless” old brute to save the kingdom from ruin? Tears prick at the corners of Briar’s eyes as she castigates herself for listening in on the conversation.