The Princess and the Soldier: A New Fairy Tale

by Burke,H. L.

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  The Princess and the Soldier

  A New Fairy Tale

  by

  H. L. Burke

  Once upon a time there was a lovely Princess who loved a young soldier named Rowan. He was tall with deep, dark eyes. She would watch him from her tall tower, but he never looked up to see her. He cared only for fighting and sword play.

  When war broke out between the Princess’s country and another land, Rowan left to fight. The Princess cried all night and all day and was most unhappy.

  A year later, the war ended, and the army came home. The Princess dried her eyes, put on her prettiest dress and stared out her window, counting the soldiers as they filed in. Some were missing, but she kept looking and hoping to see young Rowan. Finally all the soldiers were there, but Rowan was nowhere to be seen. The Princess sent for her father and begged him for a list of the soldiers who had come home. The King supplied the list, and Rowan was not upon it. She sent her servants among the soldiers to look for and ask about Rowan. None knew about him. Some had seen him fighting bravely, but none had seen him be killed or captured.

  The Princess wept heavily, but she loved her brave soldier too much to believe he had died. She decided to find him.

  The Princess left her tower in disguise that night, leaving only a note for her parents and taking only three dresses—one as red as rose petals, another as blue as the morning sky, and the third white and pure as fresh fallen snow—three loaves of good bread, and a purse of gold coins.

  She went among the soldiers dressed as a serving girl and asked them all if they knew of Rowan, but none had seen him since the great battle. The Princess sighed wearily and went on her way. At last she sat down by the roadside.

  Along hobbled an old soldier who had lost a leg in the war. He walked with a long sword for a crutch.

  “Why do you cry, my pretty one?” he asked.

  “I have lost my Rowan and have not even a grave to cry upon, so I cry by the side of the road instead,” she said.

  Now the old soldier took pity upon this fair girl who loved a fellow soldier so deeply. He could see her hands were soft and white and that her tiny feet had seldom walked on ground harder than velvet carpets.

  “My fair one, I can tell that you are not a maid but a lady of high birth and, more importantly, noble heart. I know not where your Rowan may be, but a great soldier deserves a great love. I will aid you in finding him. Take my sword. It carries a magical gift and can cut to the truth of any situation. May it guide you to your beloved Rowan.”

  The Princess thanked the soldier and gave him a handful of gold coins.

  Then the little Princess took to her feet, strapping the great sword across her back. She started towards the country where the battle had taken place. The little Princess’s feet blistered upon the hard stone paths, but she kept her heart set upon Rowan, praying for his safety.

  As she reached the battlefield, the sky became filled with many carrion birds, squawking ugly songs and rejoicing in the deaths that had been. The Princess shut her eyes to them.

  Hearing a cry of terror, she turned to find a large, black vulture swooping down upon a baby lynx. The Princess ran at the vulture, shrieking as loud as she could so that it took fright and flew far away. She gathered the little lynx in her arms and comforted it.

  Just then a great lynx, larger than the Princess herself, appeared, teeth bared. She shook with fright, but the little lynx jumped from her arms and ran to greet his father.

  “You have saved my son; your heart is pure and kind,” the great lynx said. “In return for your kindness, I give you the ability to understand all tongues of bird and beast. May you find all you seek.”

  Soon the Princess came upon a field of unmarked graves. Each held the body of a lost soldier, but there were no names upon the stones, and the Princess feared she would never know whether Rowan was interred under this ground. Grieving for the lives lost, the Princess walked among the graves, pulling weeds from the stones.

  Now the Prince of this land was also upon the battlefield, visiting the graves of his soldiers. When he spied the lovely maid upon the rows of graves, he fell deeply in love with her. He sent his favorite servant to bring her to him.

  The servant approached the Princess and began in flowery terms to praise her, entreating her to return with the Prince to his palace and there become the happiest of brides. She refused him, for her quest was not over. The servant returned empty-handed. The Princess ate her first loaf of bread and slept that night among the graves.

  The next day the Prince returned and, finding the maid again upon the graves, he grew more determined to have her. He sent the servant again, this time with gifts of fair jewels and rich foods, but the Princess would have nothing of such offers. Again the servant returned empty-handed. The Princess ate her second loaf of bread and slept once more among the graves.

  Now on the third day when the Prince returned and found the weeping maid, he grew impatient with his servant who, favorite or not, had failed to win the girl with flattery or gifts. He rebuked the servant and said that if this time he returned without the Princess he would strip him of his fine clothes and demote him to swineherd.

  Now the servant was fond of his fine clothes and easy work. If he could not win the Princess honestly for his master, he resolved to use trickery. This servant possessed one great magic and that lay in his horse. If any but the servant dared to sit upon this magical horse, they would become hard fastened to the seat and unable to move without the servant’s word. The servant plotted to get the Princess, by any means, to sit upon this horse, and then with her stuck upon the saddle, lead her by force to his Prince.

  The little Princess knew nothing of magic horses, but she cared not for the servant. When he offered her a ride upon its back, she shook her head and continued crying for her lost Rowan. A less desperate man than the servant would have given up then and there and become a swineherd, but the servant had not become the Prince’s favorite by being easily beaten. He sat beside the Princess and with kind words coaxed her to tell him why she wept.

  Though the Princess disliked the servant, she was lonely for someone to talk to. She told him of her love for Rowan and how she had lost him among the graves. The servant, who was no stranger to deceit, hit upon a vile plan to trick the Princess out of her freedom.

  “Why, my fair maid, why did you not say so at once?” he said. “At the palace of the Prince’s father there is a great list of the soldiers who died in the war, both ally and enemy, and also many men captured rather than killed. Mayhap your Rowan still breathes and is held among these prisoners. My Prince wishes only your happiness, and if you would come upon my horse, I will take you to the castle and let you search for your darling there.”

  All this, of course, was foul falsehood. The servant knew nothing of lists and was well aware that his army had taken no prisoners, but his smile was so kind and the Princess’s hope so great that she agreed to go upon his enchanted horse.

  As soon as her hand touched the reins the sword on her back sensed the falsehood in the trap.

  “Lies! Lies! Lies!” it screamed. “The servant’s heart is black and Rowan dwells not in the palace of the King!”

  The Princess fell back in horror, but the angry servant reached for her to force her to mount his steed. The magic blade leapt from the Princess’s back and cut off the servant’s head, and he
fell dead upon the ground.

  Fearing that the Prince would wish to avenge the servant, the little Princess left the sword upon the field of graves and fled.

  She rested in the forest nearby and ate her final loaf of bread. Having no more food and nowhere else to search, she despaired and fell into a deep sleep.

  When she awoke, she heard voices coming from the tree above her. There sat two fat, old ravens, discussing the battle. Because of the lynx’s gift, she could understand all they said.

  “After the battle, we feasted well,” said the first. “I would say that there was none better off than we upon the field.”

  “Nay,” said the second. “One indeed feasted better than we. Lady Death’s pantry was full, and she loves the taste of battle.”

  “Aye, but in this battle she saw defeat,” the first said. “For as I was watching, I saw a soldier with eyes dark and deep. Wounded many times, he lay alone upon the field and Death came to claim him, but even against Death would he fight. Though Lady Death strove hard to, she could not lay hands upon his life.”

  “What happened to the fellow?” asked the second, much amused.

  “The Lady Death could not take his life, but finding the youth so valiant and handsome, she determined to have him, living or dead. She took him away in a dark cloud, still breathing, to her cold realm where it is always night. I have been told she intends to be his bride ere the week is out.”

  And with that the laughing ravens flew away.

  At this story, the Princess’s heart beat fast, for the valiant soldier could be none but her Rowan. Her heart rejoiced that he still lived but grieved for she knew not how to reach the land of Lady Death.

  Just then the horse of the servant appeared and bowed before her.

  “My Princess fair,” it said. “You have freed me from the spell that bound me to the cruel servant. I owe you my allegiance. What is your desire?”

  “I seek the land of Lady Death, for she has made off with my love and seeks to wed him before the week has ended,” she replied.

  “Ah,” said the horse. “Then I must run my fastest, for it is many years’ journey to this land, and I must make it in a night. Climb on my back, Princess fair, and shut your eyes lest the wind blind you.”

  And the Princess obeyed and kept her eyes shut though the wind rushed madly about her. Finally the horse’s feet again touched the ground, and they were in a world with no trees or sky, only darkness. They could see only the light through the windows of a great palace.

  Inside there was much noise, though little gaiety, for Lady Death was preparing to wed the soldier Rowan and would allow no happiness. You see, Lady Death could not take Rowan’s life, but so that he would consent to marry her, she had taken his memories. All that he now knew was the gloom of the dark, cold palace. He could not remember sun or laughter or color, and the Lady feared lest any merriment would bring back such knowledge and make him wish to leave her.

  Rowan sat upon a tall, hard throne, his eyes as cold as ice, and his heart growing harder by the minute.

  Now Lady Death, though she hated the merriment of others, loved to throw parties for her own amusement, and she planned to have three grand parties in honor of her wedding. She wanted everything to be perfect and scolded her servants at every chance. When the Princess came to the door, in her maid’s clothes and covered in dirt from sitting among the graves, they hired her to help them, for there was so much work to be done.

  She went to work in the kitchen. On the first day she proved such a great help, the cook allowed her to prepare the food that would be served to the brave Rowan at the party. When the cook wasn’t looking, the Princess slipped a handful of gold coins from her purse into the batter, and the coins were baked into the cake.

  When she finished her work, she slipped away from the cook saying she would like to sleep during the party. The Princess bathed and put on the dress as red as rose petals. She then mingled among the guests at the party.

  Now Lady Death and all her guests wondered at the fair stranger in her rich gown, but Rowan kept his eyes upon his feet. When it came time to eat, Lady Death took the knife and cut the cake. Immediately she spied a coin, sticking out of the frosting. She kicked the cake onto the floor in a rage. When Rowan inquired why she behaved thus, she replied,

  “It was far too salty. Nothing less than perfect must pass the lips of my love.”

  So the guests of Lady Death went hungry, but none cared for the joy of watching the lovely Princess, and the Lady’s party was spoiled for her.

  Before the night ended, the Princess slipped away, smeared her face with soot, and once again put on her peasant clothes.

  The next day Lady Death searched the kitchens, determined her second party would not be ruined, but the Princess’s disguise fooled the Lady. Again the Princess mixed the great cake, and again she slipped in a handful of golden coins.

  Once more she bathed then donned the dress as blue as the morning sky.

  At the feast that night, the Lady Death and all her guests wondered who she was, but again Rowan sat listlessly and did not see her.

  When it came time to eat, the Lady Death took even more care than before cutting the cake, and sure enough, her knife hit a gold coin. Once more she kicked the cake to the floor, and when Rowan asked why, she replied,

  “It was too sweet. Nothing less than perfect must pass the lips of my love.”

  For the second night, the guests of Lady Death went hungry, but they were too busy watching the lovely Princess to care.

  Then Lady Death flew into a great rage and swore she would find what mischief was afoot. She oversaw the baking of the cake, watching so closely that it was all the Princess could do to slip one small coin, smaller than her fingernail but still of pure gold, into the batter. Lady saw none of this and left the kitchen satisfied that the party would be a success.

  For the last time the weary hearted Princess clothed herself in a rich gown, this time in silk as pure and white as new fallen snow. She prayed that somehow, someway, Rowan would know her, for in the morning he would be wed to Lady Death and lost to the living world forever more.

  When she stepped into the ballroom, she dazzled all the guests with her beauty as she danced. Lady Death ignored this and went straight to the cake, causing all to stop their dancing and watch her. She took greater care than ever before, cutting the cake into such tiny pieces that she was sure no coin could escape her knife. Satisfied, she took the smallest piece there was—less than a forkful—and set it before Rowan.

  The young soldier took a bite of cake and froze as if turned to stone, for he could feel a piece of gold against his tongue. At the touch of the warm, living gold, all his memory came floating back, and he saw the Princess. Lady Death called to him, but he could not hear her. He arose from his throne, strode across the room, and knelt before his King’s daughter.

  “My Princess,” he said. “Why are you here among this evil company? Your father would not be pleased.”

  She burst into tears and told him the story of her search. When the soldier heard how far she had come and all she had gone through for his sake, the ice of Lady Death about his heart melted and love awoke. He arose and kissed her, begging her forgiveness for his neglect.

  Now when Lady Death heard this, she became enraged and called for her soldiers to kill them both, but faster than the soldiers was the enchanted horse which sprang into the ballroom and took the lovers upon its back. Faster than the wind it flew, and when they opened their eyes, they were once again in the courtyard of her father.

  The grateful Princess freed the loyal steed who galloped off into the sky, never to return.

  Rowan and the Princess, however, were wed the very next day and lived long and happily in love for the rest of their lives.

  –The End–

  Copyright © 2014 H. L. Burke

  Please keep reading and enjoy the following excerpt from H. L. Burke's Young Adult Fairy Tale novel, An Ordinary Knight, now available in eBo
ok and paperback from Amazon/CreateSpace

  www.hlburkeauthor.com

  An Ordinary Knight

  Percy turned seventeen during his fifth month as Dog Keeper and celebrated by playing sick for the first time in his life. As soon as Ivan had sulked off to do Percy’s work, he sneaked out of his quarters and into the library where he picked up a book he had been saving just for the occasion. The title, Exploits of the Great Warriors of Ithelia, sounded promising, and he planned to read it all in one sitting. He sat on the floor with his back against a shelf, two apples he’d purloined from the kitchen at his side, happy to have a day to himself. Even if he got caught, it would be worth it. How could one demote a Dog Keeper? Make him Goldfish Keeper? He laughed as he opened the book. At least goldfish were cleaner than dogs. Let Ivan find him.

  “Ahhh ... ahh ... ”

  Percy shut his book and looked around.

  “Ahhh ... ahh ... ” The voice came from the shelf before him. Dust rose in the air, floating towards Percy and tickling his nose.

  “Ahh ... ahchoo!”

  The sneeze exploded, followed close by another, and another, and another. Percy smiled. It was impossible to think of the sneezer as a threat. He stood up and glanced over the shelf.

  “Bless you,” he said, suppressing a smile.

  “Th ... ah ... ah ... thank ... ah ... ah ... choo!”

  The sneezer was an older man, perhaps sixty, only a bit over five feet tall, and covered from head to toe with a thick brown layer of dust. He had clear, impish, blue eyes. He smiled back, breathed deeply, and stepped around the shelf to face Percy.

  “I can’t abide dust!” he said. “But one has to deal with it when one is dusting, does one not? Dust seems to be my lot in life. You simply can’t escape fate, even if it is a dusty one.”

  “I suppose you can’t,” Percy mumbled. Fate had never been his friend.