by Jenni James
“Aye. Perhaps I’ll keep an eye out, but I’m also looking for game to feed my family.”
“I’m sure that would be in there.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Certainly. Fair de’ well, Young Man.”
“Fair de’ well, Sir.”
It was an easy walk to the forest and once he entered it, he knew it to be, indeed, enchanted. The canopy was so thick that sunlight could barely come through but the dirt path was clearly seen in spite of the leafy limbs overhead and there was scarcely a leaf or broken limb on it. It was strangely quiet. No animal made a sound. John wondered if there was anything alive in this strange place.
He followed the path for an hour, not seeing any game or person whatsoever. The path came to a clearing and then continued on the other side. Here, sunlight fell down in abundance. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a wondrous tree, laden with golden apples in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by emerald green grass that looked freshly cut and, like the path, had no limbs or leaves littering it.
He walked up to the tree that fanned out, dangling delicious fruit, ready for picking. He picked an apple and rubbed it along the sleeve of his white shirt and was about to take a bite when the most beautiful golden bird landed upon a branch of the apple tree. The large bird studied him, turning her head one way and then the other. With a piercing squawk, she suddenly flew away.
John watched the bird fly away with awe but when he looked down he saw a fox with a white snout, feet and underbelly and short brown fur over the rest of his body. Startled, John dropped the apple and he quickly flipped his bow from his shoulder. He drew an arrow, aiming it at the fox.
“Kind, Sir, please don’t shoot me,” said the fox.
John lowered his bow. “It speaks!”
The fox drew a few steps closer. The ends of its white snout seemed to draw into a grin. “It is a good thing you didn’t eat that apple.”
John let the tension out of his bow. “And why is that?”
“He that eats an apple from that tree is changed into an animal.”
“Have you been so changed?”
“Ever hear a fox speak before?” The Fox cocked his head.
“Can’t say I have. Well then, I’m grateful, Master Fox.”
“Were you intent on shooting that bird?” The Fox drew closer. John then saw that the eyes of the Fox weren’t brown, but blue.
“Not at all. If I could catch it, I could take it to my father and he could sell her for quite a price and feed our family for months.”
“Very well, then, I will help you, if you’ll heed my advice.”
John put away his arrow and slung his bow over his shoulder. He put his hands on his knees to peer down at the Fox. “What do you want in turn?”
“Your help to change me back into my former self. Unlike you, I had no warning and I ate the fruit of the tree.”
And so they struck a bargain, although there was no handshake.
“First, we need a horse,” the fox told him
“Why do we need a horse?” John scratched his head.
“It is a long ways to the other side of the forest. The golden bird chose a high perch to nest.”
“Where will we find a horse?”
“Just outside of the forest, a farmer has a horse that does not belong to him.”
“Aye, I’ve talked to him. Does the mare belong to you?”
“That she does,” said the Fox conversationally.
“The farmer said he would give the horse back to the owner.”
“He’d hardly hand her over to a talking fox.”
So John agreed to steal the horse. After all, the farmer had freely admitted that he found the horse and it really didn’t belong to him. They followed the enchanted path back through the forest.
To pass the time while walking back along the magically lit path, John asked, “How did the tree come to be magical?”
“I heard a tale that an old crone, who once lived in this forest, had fallen in love with an old farmer. As the tale goes, she baked him a fabulous pie. After he ate the pie he scorned her so she turned the tree to bear forbidden gold fruit to tempt men and turn them into an animal, which she believed all men to be, but the old wives tale says it will turn anyone into a beast.”
“You knew this before you came?” John was amazed that anyone would be so gullible.
“I heard it a long time ago, when I was boy. I just thought it was an old wives tale.”
“But you know better, now.”
“Aye. It would be nice to have a crystal ball to see into the future. Alas, I don’t.”
It was now mid-morning and as they stepped out of the cool forest, the air was much warmer, proving that the day could turn hot. Standing at the edge of the forest line in the shadow where it was still cool, the fox laid out his plan. “I will draw the farmer away and you go and get the horse. There are two saddles.”
“I have seen them.”
“Don’t put the golden one on her, but put the old worn saddle on her instead.”
John didn’t really understand why, but agreed to heed the advice of the Fox.
The fox went towards the house and sure enough, the farmer came out of the stable waving his wooden pitchfork at the creature and proceeded to take after him. John stealthily crept into the stable. The beautiful horse watched him closely with dark brown eyes. John thought it would be such a shame to put that old saddle on such a stunning creature and so, instead, he put the golden saddle on the mare.
The mare began to sparkle and shrunk down to reveal a gorgeous young maiden with waist-long raven black hair, long curled eyelashes, a pert little nose and shapely lips. She was dressed in a silken white dress and the saddle turned into a wide black leather and gold-buckle belt.
“Oh thank you, Sir, for changing me back,” she said with a honey-sweet voice. Sitting up she continued without taking a breath, “I don’t think I could stand much more of this dirt, old hay. And the stink here is awful. There is just nowhere for a lady to do her proper business. Taking good care of me, why that crude ogre of a man…”
Just then the fox entered the stable. “Stupid boy! What use is a maiden to get us to the nest of the golden bird?”
“You’re seeking the golden bird?” asked the maiden. “Wonderful! Are we all…?”
“Aye, but we need you as a horse, Lady Meriel, for a bit longer, to find the golden bird.” The fox said to her.
“Very well then, put the other saddle on me.” Meriel frowned, bringing her dark eyebrows down, and her lips formed a pout. She took off her belt and laid it over the saddle log that held both saddles. She got back down on her hands and knees, letting John place the old worn saddle on her back. She sparkled again and turned back into a horse and her belt turned back into a saddle. “This is degrading…”
“Quickly, before the farmer comes back!” The Fox said nervously.
John mounted the mare and the Fox leaped upon the horse behind him. They galloped across the bleak farmland to the forest with the farmer yelling and waving his pitchfork at them. That was all he could do since he was on foot and had no horse to take after them.
They entered the enchanted forest again. Since Meriel could see the magically illuminated path clearly, she clopped along at a good pace. “I don’t see why I had to stay a horse. We all could have walked!”
The Fox, with a little irritation in his voice, said, “You’re faster, this way.”
“I don’t walk that slow, do I?” She countered.
“You dawdle.”
“Are we in a hurry? I mean, I don’t know how much time I spent in that awful drafty, and dirty place. And that man is a mean …”
“Meriel…!” shouted the Fox.
“What?”
“Shut up!”
Meriel grumbled.
John thought that she, indeed, had to belong to the Fox. There was certainly a familiarity between them.
Meriel didn’t quite obey. She went right o
n talking, remarking on the scenery. “Look how straight these tree trunks are, not like most enchanted forests…”
“Been in many enchanted forests?” John asked. He was amused at this talking horse that is really a maiden.
“This is her only one,” commented the Fox
“Look at how dark it is off this path. You can’t see inside it. I wonder what mysteries are hidden in there.” She went on and on.
At least her incessant talking dispelled the silence of the first time he passed this way. John enjoyed her chatter.
All at once she reared up and stopped, when they had come to meadow with the apple tree. “Oh, there’s that awful apple tree!”
“You’ll be alright. An apple can’t change you into an animal since you’re still an animal.” The Fox told her.
“As I recall, you gave me the apple the first time.”
“Shut up, Meriel!”
She crept by, giving the apple tree a wide berth. She still didn’t want to go near it.
On the other side of the lovely green meadow, the path took up again, but here it wasn’t a beautiful lit-up path. It was dark and leaves and branches littered it. The path wasn’t straight and true, like the other one, but curved around large trees, some terribly misshapen. Light did hit the path because the trees seemed reluctant to cover it.
Their traveling slowed down. However, it was faster than walking, especially with a maiden on foot. Meriel wasn’t as talkative now, concentrating on her footing and watching out for branches. John missed her chatter. The only sound was their breathing and the crunch of brown leaves. Meriel’s breathing was getting louder and she soon started complaining about the weight on her back.
The Fox kept telling her it was just a little farther.
Finally, when she was just about ready to be stubborn and demand a rest, they came to the other side of the forest.
Not far from the edge of the woods was a giant rock. It was craggy, quite high up, but not too difficult to climb. Certainly, Meriel in horse form, couldn’t climb that; the Fox—maybe; John—certainly.
As soon as they stepped out of the forest, it became quite warm. The sky was cloudless blue and the land beyond only hilly and in the far, far distance was a mountain range with snow-capped peaks that looked blue to the eye, almost blending into the sky. The Fox jumped off Meriel and John dismounted.
The Fox told John, “The golden bird has her nest up there.”
“How will I find it,” inquired John.
“It will be gold in color at the highest peak. When you find her nest, build another one beside it out of whatever you can find. You must get her to land into the nest you built.”
“I’ll be able to capture her then?” It never occurred to John how the Fox knew what color her nest would be or why he should build a new nest. All he thought about was the coin he would get for her.
“Surely,” agreed the Fox. “Meriel and I will wait for you here.”
John climbed the gigantic rock, whereupon, as the Fox had said, he came across a golden nest made of golden straw. In the middle of the nest was a golden egg. John reasoned, from his experience at the stable, that it would be best to follow the fox’s instructions. Since the golden bird was not anywhere in sight, he proceeded to build a nest out of grass growing in the cracks of the rock. Once he finished the new nest, he surveyed it. It certainly seemed very poor beside the golden one.
Now, how would he lure the golden bird into this meager looking nest beside the golden one? Ah! Perhaps moving the golden egg to the new nest would lure her. So he moved the golden egg and hid behind nearby rocks, ready to pounce on the bird with the satchel he had made ready to throw over her.
He did not have to wait very long before the golden bird glided towards the nests. She flew past the golden nest and not seeing her egg, she circled once more. She spied the egg in the other plain nest and settled down on top of it.
Before John could sack her, she began to sparkle and then turned into a golden haired maiden wearing a royal blue dress. She had a regal bearing, sparking blue eyes, a pert nose and she was most pleasing to look at. John figured she was not much older than him.
“Ooh,” she squeaked and reached underneath herself and instead of pulling out a golden egg; she pulled out a golden crown, which she promptly placed on her head.
Then the golden nest, as if by magic, turned dark and rotten.
“Oh thank you, Young Sir. You have freed me from the apple tree’s curse.”
Once John recovered from his surprise, he extended his hand. “Come, I have two friends off this rock.”
“And who are you, Sir.”
“I am John Bowman, a friend of the Fox.”
“I see,” she said, taking his hand and letting him guide her to her feet.
“You must have eaten a golden apple, too,” John said.
“That I did. You saved me and I’m sure my prince will reward you.” By way of conversation, she introduced herself, “I am Princess Cathleen.”
John was pleased with this fortune. He may not have a golden bird to sell, but a favor from a prince would be worth much more.
She followed his lead as they climbed down the mountain together. Waiting at the bottom was the black horse and the fox.
“My Lord, you and Meriel are still animals. I had hoped for better!” Princess Cathleen said.
“Not for long,” replied the fox.
“You are the prince?” asked John.
“I am Prince Gilroy, but we must return to the tree, in order to return me to my former self. Will you fulfill your bargain?”
“Aye, I gave my word.”
John mounted Meriel and swung Princess Cathleen on behind him. The fox ran alongside of them as they returned to the tree. Meriel and Princess Cathleen chatted, making Meriel forget about lugging so much weight. Time passed quickly and even John enjoyed the banter. The Fox just ran alongside without talking.
When they reached the clearing and were within a few feet of the apple tree, John and Cathleen dismounted.
The Fox didn’t waste any time. “Pick an apple, John. Take one bite out of it and then put it on the ground that I may eat the rest.”
“Won’t that turn me into an animal?” asked John.
“Hasn’t my guidance been right so far?” countered the fox.
John shrugged and picked an apple from the tree. He took a bite and dropped it on the ground in front of the fox. The fox gobbled up the apple. Then both John and the fox began to sparkle and as the Fox turned into a handsome prince with brown hair, lean frame, blue eyes and a strong chin, John turned into a fox.
“You tricked me,” complained John.
“Sorry, somebody has to be the fox. That is the curse of the apple tree. That farmer tricked us and as I traded places with him, so you must trade places with me. You have served your prince well. Fair de’ well—Fox.” With that, he mounted Meriel and swung the princess up behind him.
As they were riding away, Lady Meriel, still the beautiful black mare, turned her head and said, “You just can’t trust royalty! Look at me, I’m still a horse!”
THE END
C.R. Truitt
C.R. Truitt is a science fiction writer with books available online and in some stores in both hardcopy and e-books. He was a reporter for two rural newspapers, editor for the Lion’s Club state newspaper as well as a programmer, circuit designer, police officer and a few other things. Except for his first twenty years of life, he has lived in the same small town in the high mountains of Utah.
The Four Skillful Brothers
By Jenna Madsen
Chapter 1
K noah was always the last one out of the locker room. Tonight he stayed even later to go over some game footage so he could get a head start on preparing for next week’s game. Turning out the light, he grabbed his bag and headed for the parking lot. He started toward his rusty orange pickup truck and noticed it wasn’t the only car in the lot like he was expecting.
He almost turn
ed back to see if someone was still in the locker room but then he saw her. She was leaning against his truck's door with her head tilted back and her eyes closed. He stopped walking when he realized who it was. Before he had any time to contemplate why this particular girl would be waiting for him, she spoke.
“Oh good, you’re here. I was wondering if one of your brothers took you home for some reason,” she opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. “Can I catch a ride home with you? My car won’t start. I think I left the headlights on and now it has a dead battery. Plus, my phone went dead. No car battery, no phone battery, so…” she spoke to him like she’d known him for years and this wasn’t the first time they’d ever met.
Her name was Veera and she was beautiful. Even beautiful didn’t quite do her justice. She had long, chestnut hair and soft, hazel eyes. Her full, pink lips turned up at the corners, and she had a dimple on her lower left cheek. She wasn’t exactly a new girl in town, though she was new this year to their high school.
He first saw her a couple of years ago during freshman year when her family, the St. Pierre’s, moved to his small Montana town. He heard that Veera, their oldest daughter, was attending Absaroka Academy, the private school located in one of the neighboring towns. But something had apparently changed since then because this year, on the first day of school, she showed up at his public school.
Her parents had built a huge fancy house so they would have somewhere “nice” to live while Veera went to school. He assumed they didn’t want their daughter to have to live in the dorms like the rest of the students did. Knoah was extremely skeptical of the girl whose family bought an entire city block on the east side of his tiny town just so she could attend private school. He forgave her of her family’s wealth though when he saw her for the first time.
As Knoah threw his bag and football gear in the back of his truck he hoped it covered the set of jumper cables he always kept back there. He couldn’t deny that she piqued his interest and he kind of wanted to drive her the 15 miles it would take to get to their neighboring town from the school. Maybe he would even have to drive her back tomorrow to get her car. “Uhhh, yeah, sure, you live by the old Crawford place right?” He had no idea why he felt the need to clarify where she lived. Everyone in both towns knew where Veera lived. The place practically had its own zip code.