Fierce, Fearless and Free

by Lari Don

  The mountain laughed at the goddess.

  Inanna watched small stones rattle loose and big boulders roll down his sides as he laughed. She looked up at the sky, towards the palace of the gods. No one was coming to help her.

  As Ebih’s giggles shook the ground under her feet, Inanna ran down the mountain.

  Ebih laughed louder. ‘Run away, little goddess!’

  But Inanna wasn’t running away. She was finding new weapons.

  Inanna chased the stones rolling down the slopes. She caught two jagged rocks, lifted them above her head and smashed them into the side of the mountain.

  She crashed them into Ebih’s stony skin, bashing and battering and bruising the mountain with his own rocks.

  She fought Ebih with his own solid stony power.

  Inanna used all her strength to hit again and again and again.

  She didn’t stop when her first two weapons crumbled, because the mountain had laughed so hard that there were lots of rocks lying loose at his feet. Perfect weapons, given to her by the mountain himself.

  Inanna picked up more stones and she struck the mountain’s ribs and ridges, spine and slopes, cliff faces and crevices.

  She used the mountain’s strength against him, until the mountain began to bleed.

  Until dribbles of red-hot rock seeped from narrow cracks. Until streams of the mountain’s blood flowed from deep gullies. Until rivers of the mountain’s life poured from long valleys.

  Until Ebih croaked and gasped.

  Then Inanna stopped, waiting for the mountain to surrender. Waiting for him to promise he would leave her land and people alone. Waiting for him to offer her proper respect.

  Waiting for her chance to show him mercy.

  But Ebih spat a dribble of molten rock at her.

  Inanna sidestepped his final insult. She dropped the rocks, she laid her hands on his warm grey skin, she gripped his thick grey bones and she wrestled the mountain to the ground.

  Then the goddess stood on top of a cold grey heap of rubble, her arms raised in triumph.

  The clouds of smoke drifted away.

  The layer of ash blew off the land.

  The people returned home.

  The people thanked Inanna. They bowed down, pressing their foreheads to the ground and wiping their noses on the earth. The people brought her gifts, and sang about their love and respect for her.

  And the people built a temple to Inanna, on top of the rocky mound that had once been Ebih.

  They built a temple so huge and glittering that it was visible from Anu’s throne room. A temple so splendid that no one could ever forget, on earth or in the palace of the gods, that Inanna had defeated a mountain.

  NERINGA AND THE SEA DRAGON

  LITHUANIAN LEGEND

  One day, a fisherman found a baby floating in a basket on the sea. It was a big basket, containing a big bouncy baby girl, who waved at him cheerfully when he lifted her out of the water.

  He took the baby home, called her Neringa and brought her up as his daughter. Neringa grew into a happy healthy toddler. She grew, and she grew, and she grew. And she kept growing.

  Because Neringa was a giant.

  By the time Neringa was a year old, she was taller than her dad. By the time she was five years old, she was taller than their cottage, and had to move her bed into the boat shed. By the time she was ten years old, she was taller than the masts of the fishing boats in the harbour.

  Despite her size, Neringa fitted in well to the life of the fishing village. She was kind and thoughtful and never got annoyed when she was the first person found in games of hide-and-seek. (It’s hard to hide when you’re a giant…)

  She used her size and strength to help her family, friends and neighbours. She was tall enough to spot boats returning from the open sea long before anyone else. She was strong enough to lift boats out of the harbour for repairs. Her apron was big enough to carry everyone’s catch to market.

  When Neringa finally stopped growing, twenty years after her father adopted her, she was the most beautiful giant in the land. She had long golden hair, shinier than the sand on the shore; she had clear blue eyes, brighter than the sea in the sunlight; and most importantly she had a cheerful smile.

  Tales of this beautiful young giant spread across the land and across the sea.

  The sea dragon Naglis heard the stories, on his rocky island out in the ocean.

  Naglis was a huge beast, scaly and stinky and cruel. He was struggling to find a bride, because he’d accidentally trampled on, or inadvertently swallowed, all his previous wives.

  ‘But I didn’t notice her under my claws!’ he whined. ‘They’re all so small! I need someone my own size…’

  When he heard rumours of a pretty young giant living in a village on the coast, Naglis grinned. ‘She sounds perfect! I’m sure she’d love to be my wife.’

  The sea dragon polished his claws, sharpened his teeth, waxed his scales, then set off to ask Neringa to marry him.

  Neringa was sitting on the harbour wall, holding up a large net so the fishermen could check it for rips, when Naglis reared out of the sea.

  The dragon boomed, ‘Neringa, will you marry me and live with me on my rocky island?’

  Neringa lowered the net and looked at Naglis. He was a muddy sort of grey colour, with sharp unwelcoming scales, small unfriendly eyes and long brown teeth.

  Also, he was a dragon.

  ‘No, thank you,’ she said politely. ‘It’s kind of you to ask, but I would prefer to stay here.’

  The dragon sneered at the fisherfolk, at their salt-stained clothes and little cottages. ‘But everything is so small. Why would you want to stay here?’

  Neringa smiled. ‘Because my family, friends and neighbours live here. This is my home.’ She held the net up again.

  The dragon wasn’t used to anyone saying ‘no’ to him.

  ‘Say yes to me,’ he roared, ‘or I will make you sorry!’

  ‘No. Thank you.’

  ‘Then I will wreck the boats of your family and friends and neighbours!’ Naglis smashed his tail on the surface of the sea. A huge wave swept inland and the boats in the harbour were thrown on to the front street of the village.

  ‘Witness the power of Naglis the sea dragon!’ he bellowed. ‘Will you marry me NOW?’

  ‘No, I will not.’ Neringa picked up the boats and put them carefully back in the water, then she sat cross-legged on the beach and started to repair the broken masts.

  The dragon swam off in a huff.

  But he didn’t give up. The next morning, when the fishermen sailed out to sea, the dragon rose up out of the depths and overturned one of the boats. As it sank, the other fishermen pulled their neighbours out of the waves, then took them safely home.

  Naglis followed them to the harbour. He roared at Neringa, ‘If you don’t marry me, I will sink all the boats.’

  Neringa stood on the harbour wall and called back, ‘I will not marry you, so go away and leave this village alone.’

  ‘How dare you refuse me! If you don’t say yes, I will destroy your precious village.’

  ‘I will never say yes and I will not let you destroy my home.’ Neringa stood tall and strong, with cottages lined up like toys behind her. She folded her arms and stared at the dragon.

  So Naglis called up a storm. He focused all his sea-dragon power and fury, and forced howling winds towards the village.

  The wind whipped the sea into high foamy walls of heavy water, which crushed the boats then rushed up the shore towards the cottages and the people inside.

  The fisherfolk ran inland for safety, Neringa carrying the smallest children in her arms.

  They watched the dragon’s storm batter their harbour and their homes. When the wind and waves finally died down, they walked slowly back to the village. All their boats were wrecked or sunk; all their cottages were roofless and sodden.

  Neringa strode out past the shattered harbour wall, wading fearlessly through the open sea towar
ds the dragon. She shouted, ‘Naglis, hear me. I will never marry you. And you will never harm this village again.’

  Naglis heard the anger in the giant’s voice, he saw the strength in her long strides and the power in her clenched fists.

  He gulped and swam further out to sea. ‘I’ll wait here. You’ll change your mind soon, when your friends starve because my tail sinks every boat that tries to fish, when your neighbours freeze because my storms rip off every roof they try to build.’

  Neringa shook her head. ‘You can wait there as long as you like, but you’ll never harm my friends or neighbours again.’

  Neringa turned her back on the dragon and walked along the shoreline, filling her apron with rocks and sand. Then she walked back out to sea and laid the rocks in a smooth curving line. She laid golden sand on top, forming a wall in the ocean. For a whole day the giant carried rocks and sand out to sea, building a high golden wall between her home and the dragon, creating a calm lagoon in front of her village.

  She didn’t cut the village off from the sea completely; she left a small channel out to the open water, so fish could swim into the lagoon and fishermen could fill their nets. But the channel was too narrow for the dragon or his storms to get past the curved golden wall.

  Naglis the sea dragon realised he was beaten, by Neringa’s determination, her strength and her love for her village. So he swam back to his lonely rocky island.

  Neringa helped her family, friends and neighbours rebuild their homes and their boats, then they all fished safely and happily for many years to come.

  And you can visit that long golden wall of sand. It’s the beautiful Curonian peninsula in Lithuania, where the locals still tell stories about the giant who built a wall in the sea to protect them from a dragon.

  KATE CRACKERNUTS AND THE SHEEP-HEADED MONSTER

  SCOTTISH FAIRY TALE

  Kate woke up one morning to find a monster weeping in her bedroom.

  Kate lived in the palace, because her mother had married the king a few years ago. So Kate was used to tournaments and masked balls. But she wasn’t used to monsters sobbing in her bedroom.

  And this was a particularly horrible monster. With long curving horns, eerie yellow eyes, greasy wool covering its heavy head, and snot dangling down on to its lacy blue nightgown.

  A blue nightgown that looked exactly like her stepsister Ann’s favourite nightgown.

  Kate loved her stepsister Ann, who was the king’s daughter and would be queen one day. Suddenly Kate wasn’t scared for herself. Suddenly she was scared for Ann.

  Why was this monster wearing Ann’s nightie? Had this monster stolen Ann’s clothes? Had it hurt Ann?

  Had it eaten Ann?

  Furious and frightened, Kate leaped out of bed, grabbed her slippers and whacked the monster with them.

  The monster didn’t fight Kate or even defend itself. The monster backed off, taking quick small steps away from Kate, almost like it was dancing.

  Kate looked down, and realised the monster was wearing slippers. Embroidered silver slippers, just like her own slippers, on pale soft feet.

  Those feet didn’t look monstrous.

  Kate stopped whacking the monster and stared at it.

  From the toes up to the neck, this monster looked exactly like her sister. But on the trembling shoulders, instead of Ann’s curly ginger head, there was a greasy horned sheep’s head.

  ‘Ann? Is that you?’

  The sheep-headed monster nodded.

  ‘Oh, Ann! Who did this to you?’

  ‘I did,’ said Kate’s mother, as she opened the door. ‘I bargained for a fairy spell to turn a princess into a monster. Wasn’t it a good idea? She can’t possibly be queen now, so I’m sure your stepfather will name you his heir instead.’

  ‘That’s a terrible idea!’ said Kate. ‘I don’t want Ann to be a monster, just so I can be queen. Turn her back, now!’

  Her mother shrugged. ‘I can’t turn her back. I only bargained for one spell, so she’s stuck with that sheep’s head forever.’ Kate’s mother smiled regally and left the room.

  Ann sat down on the floor, sniffling and snorting through her woolly nose.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Kate. ‘I’ll find a way to lift the spell.’

  Kate packed a bag with a couple of bannocks, a handful of hazelnuts and an iron nail. She kissed her sheep-headed sister goodbye and headed into the woods to search for a bright green grassy mound and listen for beautiful music.

  She walked all day long, cracking open nuts and nibbling bannocks when she was hungry. As the sun was setting, she found a perfect bright green mound and heard the joyful sound of pipes and fiddles.

  Kate sat down to wait.

  Soon, a young man skipped and stumbled towards the mound, calling, ‘Open up for the dancing prince!’

  The grass slid open to form an elegant archway. The young man stumbled and skipped inside. Kate followed, sticking the iron nail into the grassy arch as she ran through, so it wouldn’t close behind her.

  She found herself in a splendid ballroom, with musicians performing at one end, beautiful people dancing in the centre, and gorgeous people sitting at tables round the edges, with toddlers and children playing at their feet.

  The silks and velvets were brighter than anything at her stepfather’s palace, the dancing was faster and more intricate, the music was more enticing, the smiles were more glorious…

  Kate had found the fairies.

  She hid in the shadows against the wall. She wanted to dance to the wonderful music, but she resisted the temptation and stayed in the shadows.

  Kate crept nearer to two fairy women sitting at the tables, who were laughing and chatting and pointing at the dancers.

  ‘That handsome prince has been here every night for weeks, dancing his life away. His family have no idea that three feathers from my babe’s golden hen would break the spell and save his life!’

  Kate looked under the table. All the children were playing with toys or animals. One girl had a leafy twig, another had a silver hare; one boy had a black flute, another had a golden hen.

  She looked at the prince, whirling in the centre of the floor. He was pale and thin. And he was going to die soon, if he didn’t stop dancing with the fairies.

  She sighed, then crawled under the table and rolled a couple of hazelnuts towards the fairy boy with the golden hen. He let go of the bird to grab the nuts.

  Kate picked up the hen and shoved it inside her cloak. She stayed under the table and tried to ignore the tempting music, concentrating on the conversation above her.

  The fairy women gossiped and giggled about glamour spells and love potions, but neither of them mentioned a sheep-headed princess.

  Kate was sure these fairies knew how to break Ann’s spell, but she had to stay hidden and wait for them to discuss it. If she stood up and asked them directly, they might cast a spell on her too.

  She crouched under the table and listened as they laughed and chatted about changelings and fairy flags, but they didn’t mention how to lift a sheep’s head spell.

  The night was passing, the dancers were slowing, the youngest children under the tables were dozing.

  Kate was running out of time to save her sister.

  She crawled closer to the fairy children and whispered, ‘I wonder if any of you can make animal noises. Who can make the sound of a sheep?’

  They all grinned and opened their mouths. ‘Baa baa, meh meh, baa baaa baaaaa!’ They were almost as loud as the dance music and not nearly as tuneful.

  The fairy women above laughed and one of them said, ‘That reminds me of the sheep-headed monster spell we gave that scheming queen. The poor woolly princess has no idea that tapping her horns three times with my babe’s willow wand would break her spell.’

  Kate grinned and rolled her last three hazelnuts towards the fairy girl with the leafy twig. The little girl dropped the stick to pick up the nuts.

  Kate grabbed the willow wand and put it safely und
er her cloak. Then she crept out from under the table. She was so keen to get home and free her sister from the spell, she didn’t even glance back at the dancing prince.

  She walked through the archway, pulled out the iron nail and ran through the dark woods.

  The sun was rising as she sprinted into her room, where Ann was embroidering slippers by the fire.

  Kate tapped the sheep’s horns three times with the willow wand, there was a smell of burning wool, and suddenly Ann was standing in front of her with a big smile on her entirely human face.

  The sisters hugged each other.

  There was a startled squawk.

  Ann laughed. ‘Why do you have a hen under your cloak?’

  Kate grinned. ‘So I can save a prince. But first, let’s go down for breakfast and see what my mother says when she sees you without wool and horns!’

  And that’s how Kate used a handful of hazelnuts to rescue her sister, save a prince and win herself the name Kate Crackernuts.

  RIINA AND THE RED STONE AXE

  SOLOMON ISLANDS FOLK TALE

  This is the story of three islands, in an ocean of thousands of islands. It’s the story of a large island where hundreds of happy families lived, fished and enjoyed feasts together; a medium-sized island where dozens of fierce warrior women trained together; and a small island where two cannibal brothers lived together in a cave lined with skulls.

  The cannibal brothers owned magic axes which gave them great strength and the power to fly. One day they were flying across the large island, after enjoying a village feast. They saw two girls walking along a path, so they swooped down, grabbed the girls and flew to their small island.

  The cannibals dropped the girls on the ground outside their filthy bone-filled cave.

  The cannibal brothers stared at the girls.

  The girls trembled.

  The cannibal brothers licked their lips.

  The girls shivered.

  The cannibals laughed. ‘We’re not hungry, because we just feasted on a whole village. We won’t eat you; we’ll keep you as our servants.’

  The girls started work, cleaning the cave.