Cinderella : The Brothers Grimm Story Told As a Novella (9781543916034)

by Klaassen, Mike

  Ella considered that thought for a moment, but she had already looked into the future and seen the death of Willem and the pillage of the kingdom. What would be the point of becoming a princess or queen of a kingdom on the verge of ruin?

  Maybe, thought Ella, the future she had observed was not a certainty. Maybe it was only one possible future. If that were true, could the future be altered by events in the present?

  Could her newly discovered powers of magic be used to save the kingdom from invasion? Could she save Willem? Her mind swirled with confusion, and she couldn’t see a sure path forward. But one thing Ella was convinced of—first, she must try to save Willem.

  She stood, lifted her arms, and gazed toward the sky. In her mind, she screamed, Willem dearest, to this house immediately thou must return!

  With her mind, she searched for him.

  After a minute, Ella realized that he must be beyond the range of her senses. She had taken too long to discover her way ahead. Now, Willem would most certainly die, as she had seen in her vision. The fate of the kingdom was sealed, and she felt the weight of her failures crush down upon her as she dropped to the ground, sobbing.

  After a few minutes, she heard a familiar sound in the distance. She listened and heard it again, much louder. Someone was pounding on the front door.

  Ella sprang to her feet and raced to the house.

  She reached the foyer just as Irmgard swung open the great door. Through the threshold stepped Willem, holding Ella’s missing slipper.

  Rolf followed Willem inside. “Your Highness, I must protest. The enemy —”

  Willem held up his hand, silencing the old squire.

  Ella stood quietly as Willem stared at her. She imagined what he saw—an ash-covered household wench dressed in a plain gray shift. His eyes focused on hers, and he smiled. He held out the little slipper.

  Suddenly feeling lightheaded, Ella eased into a chair.

  The prince knelt and reached for her foot. His touch sent tingles up her leg and goose bumps all over her body. He removed her shoe and eased the slipper over her toes until it stopped halfway.

  Willem pushed harder, trying to force the tiny slipper onto her foot. He looked into Ella’s eyes, his face sagging in disappointment.

  Ella smiled and focused on the slipper. It warmed and shimmered as the golden material seemed to flow around her foot.

  With a sigh of relief, Willem pulled her close and kissed her.

  After a moment, the old squire cleared his throat. “Your Highness, the barbarians . . .”

  Reminded of the danger the entire kingdom faced, Ella looked Willem in the eyes. With all possible haste to the enemy take me thou must.

  Willem looked at her with a puzzled expression, but he scooped her into his arms and carried her out the door.

  Mounted men-at-arms filled the street, and a young man held a black stallion as Willem approached. The prince lifted Ella into the saddle and then climbed up behind her.

  She felt him slip his right arm around her waist and pull her close. Taking the reins in his left hand, he spurred the charger. They shot forward with terrifying speed as the horse raced along city streets, through the city’s northern gateway, and then along a winding road into the countryside.

  Ella was tempted to close her eyes to block out the frightening image of the world passing by in a blur, but she took courage in the strength of Willem’s arm holding her and the power of the surefooted steed under them. They raced along the road as it wound up, around, and down hills.

  Along the way, groups of men-at-arms joined them, and soon Ella estimated that two hundred heavily armed soldiers followed Willem to battle. Hooves pounded behind them, and Ella realized that if she fell off the horse, she would be trampled to a bloody pulp.

  They crossed a bridge, and the sound of hooves on timber planks rumbled like thunder all around them. Beyond the bridge, the road cut across a wide pasture.

  Willem cursed and reined the stallion to a stop.

  Ella felt as if her insides had turned to liquid, for surely they were all about to die.

  The pasture rose gently up a wide hill. Along the crest of the rise stood a row of crudely dressed, heavily armed men. The line of barbarians stretched to the right and to the left as far as Ella could see. She estimated the invaders numbered in the thousands.

  Ella didn’t need to read anyone’s mind or to look into the future to foretell the outcome of the approaching battle. Willem’s men were a paltry few by comparison. She had no doubt that they would fight valiantly, but she figured the barbarians would slaughter them to the last man.

  Rolf reined his horse next to Willem’s. “Your Highness, I suggest you let the little lady down and send her back to the city while we deal with this rabble.”

  Ella felt Willem tighten his grip about her waist in preparation for easing her to the ground. Release me thou shall not, she thought. To the middle of the pasture thou must proceed, where with their leader must thou meet.

  She felt Willem hesitate.

  He turned to Rolf. “We’ll ride out to see if I can talk some sense into them. Bring Wolfgang and Erik.”

  Ella felt Willem shift position as he eased his heels into the steed’s ribs. The stallion walked forward along the road as Rolf, Wolfgang, and Erik escorted them.

  They had traveled but a short distance when a giant of a man stepped forward from the line of barbarians and walked toward them along the road. Three stout men followed him.

  Halfway between the two armies, Willem pulled back on the reins, and the stallion stopped. The leader of the barbarians approached to within the length of a horse.

  Willem spoke first. “I am crown prince of Bechenborg and have come to inform you that you are trespassing. We sincerely hope that your uninvited presence in the kingdom is an accident, and now that you know that you are not welcome, you will return the way you came and leave our kingdom immediately.”

  The leader of the barbarians smiled and then spat on the road between them.

  Ella focused on the leader and learned that his name was Gunter and that he intended to overrun the kingdom and claim it for his own. From this kingdom depart thou shall, she ordered him. Returnest thee never.

  Gunter winced at her words, but after a moment, he turned to the three men behind him and spoke in their native language.

  Immediately, the men began arguing with Gunter. They brandished weapons.

  Ella focused on the group of men around Gunter. From this kingdom depart thou shall.

  The men fell quiet, and after a moment, they headed back up the road toward the horde spread across the ridge. After they reached the line of barbarians, an angry roar of voices rose up.

  One and all, thought Ella, as she glanced the length of the long line of invaders, from this kingdom depart thou shall!

  At the center of the line and to each side of the road, hundreds of men fell silent. But angry shouts soon rose up from the men farther out. With weapons raised, the men on the outskirts charged forward toward Willem and his men.

  Ella realized that her powers of control were effective for only a limited distance, and now the barbarians were about to overrun them.

  Willem wheeled the stallion and spurred it back down the road to the rest of his men. He lifted Ella out of the saddle and set her on the road, and then he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.

  Willem drew his sword, pointed it toward the invaders, and yelled, “Charge!”

  All around Ella, horses shot forward, their hooves churning up a cloud of dirt and grass.

  Ella focused on the barbarians, and in her mind, she screamed, Hasten thee to depart!

  At a dead run, the savages gave no sign of heeding her.

  She stood dumbfounded as thousands of barbarians rushed from the left and the right. She had failed, and the kingdom was about to be
destroyed. Apparently, she could do nothing to stop the slaughter. She wished she were back in the garden where she could ask her mother for help. But what help could her mother possibly summon to overcome an invading horde?

  A shadow slid across the pasture. Expecting to see a cloud drifting between the earth and the sun, Ella glanced heavenward. Instead of a cloud, she saw a huge flock of crows winging its way across the sky.

  Ella studied the flock for a moment and then realized what she must do.

  Raising her hands toward the heavens, she prayed that somehow she could extend her powers far enough. She shouted her thoughts as loudly as she could. Blackbirds, ravens, and crows now hearest me. The peace of this land invaders doth threaten. Destruction most terrible they intend. Prince Willem thou must aid. Invaders drive back from whence they came.

  Ella watched as the flock continued its flight without so much as a single crow altering its course. Her spirits sagged as she realized that the flock must have been too far away to hear her plea. All, now, was truly lost.

  Then she noticed that the flock had changed direction, just a little at first and then more as it turned toward the right. Another flock appeared from the south. After a moment, another massive cloud of birds appeared from the west and then one from the north. The flocks converged and circled overhead.

  Goose bumps prickled Ella all over as she watched the crows descend, circling closer and closer, nearly blocking out the sky as they dropped toward the pasture. Above the din of battle, Ella could hear the cry of crows growing louder.

  The flock dropped to just above Willem’s men, as they fought to hold off the invaders. The calls of the crows caused the men on both sides to stop fighting and look up.

  The crows plunged into the barbarians, flapping, scratching, and pecking at them. The invaders cursed and screamed, but the deafening cry of the crows drowned out all other sound.

  Willem’s men clustered around him as the crows swarmed over the barbarians. Ella raced up the road, and Willem lifted her into the saddle.

  From atop the stallion, Ella saw a bloodied barbarian break ranks and run to the north. He was promptly followed by several more, then hundreds. Soon all the barbarians were fleeing toward the border, the crows pursuing them.

  The next day, Ella found a white tablecloth and sewed to it a patch of black cloth cut as the silhouette of a crow. She presented it to Willem, whose men proudly tied it to a wooden staff and displayed it wherever he went. Soon, the prince became known as “Willem, the Crow,” encouraging friend and foe to remember how invading barbarians had been defeated and to speculate that the kingdom was somehow protected by a force they did not fully understand.

  A month later, upon the death of his father, Willem became king. He decreed laws, ran the kingdom, and acted as judge in cases large and small. Ella made sure she was always at his side, reading the minds of those trying to influence him. She would evaluate their motives and the merit of their petitions and then subtly influence his decisions. Willem soon came to be known far and wide as a wise ruler who cared well for the subjects of his kingdom.

  The new king retained a small but well-trained army that spent most of its time maintaining roads and the castle. To further discourage invasion, Willem made sure that able-bodied subjects throughout the kingdom received training so that on short notice they, too, could assist in the defense of their homeland.

  Willem built granaries, and in years with bountiful harvests, he filled them in preparation for years of drought, famine, or war. The population grew, and the kingdom prospered.

  When Ella first saw Irmgard, Claudia, and Yvette after the defeat of the barbarians, her temper flared, and she imagined a flock of crows descending upon them to punish them for all their meanness. But then she recalled her mother’s admonition to be kind.

  Ella visited the mind of each of the three women and planted the idea that Irmgard liked the old squire, Rolf, and that Claudia loved Wolfgang, and that Yvette adored Erik. Soon, all three women were married.

  Ella made sure that the new husbands provided no household servants for their wives. Irmgard, Claudia, and Yvette slaved from dawn to dusk caring for their households, as did most of the women in the kingdom. They lived within the castle walls, and since Ella would occasionally enter their mind and encourage them to be kind, everybody got along well. Over the coming years, Willem and Ella had several children, as did Claudia and Yvette. The castle filled with the sound of youngsters playing.

  One summer afternoon in the castle gardens, Ella gathered the children together in the shade of a tree and told them the ancient tale of Hansel and Gretel.

  Ella suspected that the story had been based upon actual events, such as a devastating famine, and then was embellished over time through multiple retellings. She thought of other tales her father and mother had shared with her as a child and wondered what had inspired them and who had first told them.

  Ella thought back over her life and recalled her incredible journey from orphaned child to queen. She thought of the role of magic and how it had shaped her life and that of Willem and the kingdom.

  No doubt, the story had the making of a legend, but remembering the plagues, rats, barbarians, crows, a witch, and a temptress, Ella frowned. No, no, she thought, that wasn’t how she wished to be remembered for all time.

  In the garden the next afternoon, Ella settled herself in the shade of a tree and called all the children to her. “Let me tell you the story of Cinderella.”

  Folktales, such as those published by the Brothers Grimm, permeate our culture. We see evidence of them in movies, television, and even advertisements.

  My interest in folktales reignited as I was writing Fiction-Writing Modes: Eleven Essential Tools for Bringing Your Story to Life. I frequently struggled to develop examples of the concepts described in the book, and I found that revisiting the stories my parents read aloud to me as a child provided many of the examples I sought.

  While drafting Scenes and Sequels: How to Write Page-Turning Fiction, I used Goldilocks and the Three Bears as an example of how to troubleshoot a story with scene-and-sequel analysis. I had so much fun re-creating the story in that example that I decided to retell other folktales.

  Teachers have found both of my young-adult novels, The Brute and Cracks, useful in the classroom. As I have for those novels, for a limited time I will offer a free study guide for Cinderella on my website: www.mikeklaassen.com.

  Whenever I read a new version of a classic tale, I enjoy comparing it to the original story. For your convenience, I have included within this book the public-domain version of Cinderella upon which this retelling is based.

  A fairy tale of the Brothers Grimm

  (Source: www.grimmstories.com, July 14, 2016)

  There was once a rich man whose wife lay sick, and when she felt her end drawing near she called to her only daughter to come near her bed, and said, “Dear child, be pious and good, and God will always take care of you, and I will look down on you from heaven, and will be with you.” And then she closed her eyes and expired. The maiden went every day to her mother’s grave and wept, and was always pious and good. When the winter came the snow covered the grave with a white covering, and when the sun came in the early spring and melted it away, the man took to himself another wife.

  The new wife brought two daughters home with her, and they were beautiful and fair in appearance, but at heart were, black and ugly. And then began very evil times for the poor stepdaughter. “Is the stupid creature to sit in the same room with us?” said they; “those who eat food must earn it. Out upon her for a kitchen-maid!” They took away her pretty dresses, and put on her an old grey kirtle, and gave her wooden shoes to wear. “Just look now at the proud princess, how she is decked out!” cried they laughing and then they sent her into the kitchen. There she was obliged to do heavy work from morning to night, get up early in the morning, draw water, make the
fires, cook, and wash. Besides that, the sisters did their utmost to torment her, mocking her, and strewing peas and lentils among the ashes, and setting her to pick them up. In the evenings, when she was quite tired out with her hard day’s work, she had no bed to lie on, but was obliged to rest on the hearth among the cinders. And as she always looked dusty and dirty, they named her Cinderella.

  It happened one day that the father went to the fair, and he asked his two step-daughters what he should bring back for them. “Fine clothes!” said one. “Pearls and jewels!” said the other. “But what will you have, Cinderella?” said he. “The first twig, father, that strikes against your hat on the way home; that is what I should like you to bring me.” So he brought for the two step-daughters fine clothes, pearls, and jewels, and on his way back, as he rode through a green lane, a hazel-twig struck against his hat; and he broke it off and carried it from home with him. And when he reached home he gave to the step-daughters what they had wished for, and to Cinderella he gave the hazel-twig. She thanked him, and went to her mother’s grave, and planted this twig there, weeping so bitterly that the tears fell upon it and watered it, and it flourished and became a fine tree. Cinderella went to see it three times a day, and wept and prayed, and each time a white bird rose up from the tree, and if she uttered any wish the bird brought her whatever she wished for.

  Now it came to pass that the king ordained a festival that should last for three days, and to which all the beautiful young women of that country were bidden, so that the king’s son might choose a bride from among them. When the two stepdaughters heard that they too were bidden to appear, they felt very pleased, and they called Cinderella, and said, “Comb our hair, brush our shoes, and make our buckles fast, we are going to the wedding feast at the king’s castle.” Cinderella, when she heard this, could not help crying, for she too would have liked to go to the dance, and she begged her stepmother to allow her. “What, you Cinderella!” said she, “in all your dust and dirt, you want to go to the festival! You have no dress and no shoes! You want to dance!” But as she persisted in asking, at last the stepmother said, “I have strewed a dish-full of lentils in the ashes, and if you can pick them all up again in two hours you may go with us.” Then the maiden went to the back door that led into the garden, and called out, “O, gentle doves, O turtledoves, and all the birds that be, the lentils that in the ashes lie. Come and pick up for me!