while we wait

In the days of the Ice King, they say, there were many more magical people than there are now.  It was not strange to come across a flower or a toadstool that was glowing with strange powers, or an enchanted animal that had been a person, or an enchanted person that had been anything else.  The Ice King himself was enchanted, or so the story goes.  But nobody knows now if he had been ice and was made a man or if he was a man and only half changed to ice.  No matter.  He is not the center of our tale.

There was a unicorn in the Dark Forest, and this is true, that everybody said had no horn.  It looked just like an ordinary horse, but it was a unicorn, no doubt about it.  How did they know?  Well, nobody could catch it, for one thing.  A horse you can catch, but a unicorn is something else.  They say only the purest of heart can catch a unicorn, and only with great patience.  There was a very pure and very patient girl in town and her name was Natanielle.  She always had the brightest smile and the tinkliest laugh for everybody.  And she did not even want to catch the unicorn, if truth be told, it was her mother who wanted it.  For what purpose, only she knew.  But want it she did.  And one day she sent her Natanielle into the Dark Forest with the idea of catching that unicorn, with a little basket of fried pigeon legs and good book of fairy tales, and Natanielle had no clue that that was her purpose.  If she knew, she would not be pure anymore, would she?  Natanielle, good daughter that she was, thought she was being sent to gather wild mushrooms and pepper ferns, with a little lunch and something to entertain her while she rested.

She went into the forest early in the morning, unafraid of the dark shadows that lay there all day, no matter how bright the sun.  It was hard work to gather what she had been sent for, as the season was not at its peak.  Natanielle knew it and her mother knew it and Natanielle knew that too.  What she did not know was about the unicorn.  She had been told that her mother simply had to have Forest salad, and the mushrooms and ferns were absolutely essential ingredients.  Natanielle was a daughter who was happy to help, even if it was difficult.  Here and there she searched, pricking her fingers on sticker vines, plucking the last few green shoots of pepper fern, digging up the roots of the mushrooms, filling one pocket and then the other.  Although she could not see the sun, after some time she felt it must be nooning, and that meant it was time to have a bite to eat.  She carefully arranged the pockets to not crush them and opened her book on her lap.  The fried pigeon legs waited in the basket at her side.  No, it did not take too long to eat them all, and to finish a few more sparkling tales, full of more magic than even the Dark Forest held.  Or so she thought.

Natanielle knew about the unicorn, of course, but she thought she was only meant to gather mushrooms and ferns.  As she finished the last pigeon leg, rustling came from nearby.  She listened closely.  It was a large animal, perhaps as big as the unicorn was said to be.  The tall trees with their thick leaves left all the forest in a gloom, not the best place to see things clearly.  Natanielle could not tell which bushes and grasses were being pushed around, even looking straight at the direction of the sounds.  She began to feel a little uneasy.  She had just read a story about a hungry bear that roamed a dark forest much like...the Dark Forest.  And suddenly a branch snapped to her left and her head snapped to see what was there.

"And it's just the shadows, isn't it my dear?" came the voice from her right.  Natanielle spun back around, tripping over her own feet and the roots of the trees.  She managed to push the pockets forward so they were not crushed in her fall.  And there she sat on the ground looking up at the wolf.  She was relieved.  The wolf saw this and was perturbed.  "Do you not know me, child?"

"Well, the wolves in the storybook only eat pigs and sheep and those things, so I am glad you are not the bear," replied Natanielle.  It was not the answer the wolf was expecting.  He pouted.

"I have been away for too long, and all my old friends have forgotten me."

"Oh, if you had come sooner you could have had a pigeon leg from my basket.  I would not mind a friend from the woods."

The wolf eyed her with his eye and smiled with his lips.  "Yes, I would like to have a new friend in town, too.  But you truly do not know me, my sweet young one?"

"The only wolves in this country are in books, sir, the live ones left long ago."

"Yes, yes, longer than you know perhaps.  But there was always one who stalked the wood, a wolf of power and influence."

"That I do not know.  All we know is the unicorn that roams here.  I was beginning to think I might see him pass by, since I might spend all day gathering what my mother asked of me."

The wolf frowned and stared off into the moist darkness, perhaps upset by the girl's answer.  But then he smiled again, a great crescent moon of a smile with teeth that lit the forest floor.  "Now there is some news, and that does not happen every day!  I used to know everybody in these woods, and now you tell me there is a unicorn?  How splendid!  I would like to meet this imposter - er, this creature myself.  Maybe you can tell, but I am an old neighbor of this land.  It is just, I have been off on adventures and have neglected my ties here.  That is why you do not know of me, certainly."

"That may be, dear wolf," said Natanielle brightly, "It may indeed."

The wolf drew near to her and he curled like a great cat and all his hairs bristled and jingled, although they did not make a sound.  He breathed in and the forest shivered and he sighed and the forest fell bleached and wilted around him.  Natanielle was not surprised.  This was a time of magic, after all.  She was a little upset about disturbing the great trees so much, they had done nothing to harm either of them.  The wolf held his nose aloft and it quivered like a blob of blackberry jam and then he turned to Natanielle and said, "I think we can find this unicorn of yours, if you would like to join me."  His face was a happy puppy's and Natanielle saw no harm in going.  "Allow me to make you an offer," said the wolf as he trotted off, sure that the girl was following behind, "Not only will we see the unicorn, he will be yours, you pet forever and ever.  I will see to it.  Then you might do old Uncle a small favor?"

Natanielle replied, a little out of breath from keeping pace with the chipper wolf, "I do not want a pet unicorn, my mother would find it too much trouble-" (How little she knew her mother sometimes.) "but I do not mind doing small favors."

"So you say, child, but we shall see," called the wolf, gleefully.

It did not take long for them to come across a clearing in the forest, not very big, but with lush grass and a warm circle of sunlight.  The wolf snuffled all around the edges before pointing his nose and the brightness and saying, "I would sit in the light if I were you, my dear, for unicorns do not spend much time seeking out their maidens.  You should be easy to spot."  Natanielle shrugged her shoulders and moved into the blessing of sun.  She could not look up to the sky for the beams of light coming down, but she felt an embrace of the Forest that calmed every fear and stilled every nerve.  This was a truly magical place.  And then there was a yelp and a snarl that pulled her back to the shadows of the Dark Forest.  The unicorn was there!  He was...a donkey.  A large, brown, floppy eared donkey.  He stood with his backside to the wolf, back hunched, ready to kick.  The wolf had all his hair up and his head down and his eyes were glowing like stars.  "You dare?  You are not even a unicorn by enchantment!  You do not know who you challenge, you windy, flea-bagged-" and one foot went back to catch the wolf at the base of the neck.  He choked and coughed, backing away and leaving a trail of drool.  Like a street dog that sees only rocks will be thrown, and no chance of bread, he turned.  But before the shadows swallowed him, his eye flickered back to Natanielle, and she heard a whisper in an unfelt breeze.  "Tell them Uncle has returned."

The unicorn looked at Natanielle and she looked at him.  She curtsied and he watched her.  She stood and he watched her.  Then, Natanielle said, "Well I must be getting home, but thank you for seeing me here in your forest," and she rather gaily tripped off towards the town, and she did not even know the unicorn had followed her until she came out of the Forest and the other children playing in the field stopped their games in surprise.  The unicorn came home with her, and her mother was disgusted, as she expected, although not for the reasons she thought.  They let it stay, though, since Grandmother insisted on it.  Natanielle mentioned the wolf and what he said as he fled through the trees and Grandmother dropped her mug of mead on the floor.  After some minutes of staring into the flames of the hearth, they managed to coax some words out of her: "May that unicorn keep us safe.  For there is danger here again.  Vlk returned, Vlk returned, would that I had not seen the day."

Natanielle kept the unicorn well, and never saw the wolf again.  Although there were gray and stormy days when she was sure she heard a howling laugh from far, far away.

A tale wakening more

“I think you know I cannot let this offer pass,” I said solemnly.  He winked and bowed, as if he were a playful dog.  I felt more and more comfortable in my choice.  If he could not help me, if he was the clumsy clown he appeared, there could be no harm done.  I could refuse any demand of payment because he would not fulfill my request.  If, on the other hand, he could help me...then whatever he asked might be worth paying.

“You should be more careful with your dress when you go about your business.  You are no pig keeper; you can keep your clothes in better order than you do.  I have heard the one you dream about praise such care.”

“And criticise my carelessness?”

“Well, no,” he seemed to muse, trying to remember what he had seen and heard.  He lay down at the fire, crossed his paws like a great hunting dog and stared off into nothing.  “As I said, many have spoken your name, but not all.  I fear you are not in this mind.  It is, in some ways, a good thing, for you do not have to cleanse the thoughts of you, only give pleasant ones.  That is surely an easier task for all concerned.”

“Well I will keep this advice in mind tomorrow.  I have things to do in the main square, and surely I will be seen.  Do you care to have your tea now?”

And Vulk laughed and laughed, throwing his head back and lolling his tongue.  I thought it had been only polite to ask.  I was offended that he laughed so hard.

“Young one, I told you clearly that tea was not what I would ask of you.  You must learn to listen more carefully.  That is also advice to forge your link with your beloved.”  He winked and I felt shame at my mistake.

“But wait,” I said with suspicion,”How do you know I was not offering out of mere habit and good manners?”

He smirked, clear in spite of his bristling fur, and answered with scorn, “Your face tells more than you might think, my dear.  That is another thing to be careful of in the future.  I do not want your tea, nor will I.  I will take my leave now, in fact.  Yes, I will require something of you in due time, but I will ask with clarity.  You will know without any doubt at all when I make a request.”

I did not want to be left without a clear answer about my beloved, but I was not sorry to see him go.  Even when he helps Vulk is an uncomfortable presence.

The next morning I rose and set about to do my tasks in the square.  I was careful with my dress and with my hair setting.  I did my best to appear a thoughtful and cleanly minded person.  I made my purchases and I said my hellos and goodbyes, and I kept both eyes open, but no dreamt of face appeared to me.  I went home with leaden heart, in much less pain than I thought I would be.  I was young and believed I felt things true.

There was no visit that night, nor any other for many months.  I began to think that I had dreamed it all.  My care must have fallen though I was not of a mind to notice it, nor my friends of a mind to tell me.  Perhaps they did not notice either.  They all had their own dreams and wondrous plans in mind.  But then one dark evening, when I was brooding, ignored and unseen to beloved eyes, the shadow returned.

“Oh dear, you have returned to your former state, even worse perhaps.”

I jumped, as the voice was behind me, and I was settled against the wall.  On my feet I turned, tipped the stool, and saw the blank stone that sheltered me every night.  To the fire I looked, anxious and disgruntled, and yes he was there like a sleepy house cat.  He was more like a cat than a dog this time, no, like the jungle cats the travelers tell us of.  Lean, sleek, oozing more menace than a snake under wooden steps.  And of course he was smiling.  But I was young and I thought I was strong.

“I took great care for many days, but saw no reward.  It was a waste of time.  There must be something else I should do that will bring my beloved’s attention to me.”

“I see you are a dense one.  Do you really think that one or two days of fine dress are enough?  Everyone wants to be coupled with a constant and careful pair, not one who looks only for rewards and prizes.  The care is the reward in itself.”

“But it is not.  It is work for no reason.  I would stay in my natural state, but for a washing, if it were up to me.”

“Ah, you are young and you think you are honest.”

Grinning teeth cut my soul to pieces, for although I did believe I was right about myself, I knew he was as well.  I fell silent and to planning my dress for the next days.  He moved not a jot.  Maybe we spent hours there without a sound or a stirring.  Finally I raised my eyes to his and asked, “Is there truly nothing else for me to do?  Wander around like a painted doll is your only advice?”

“Oh no, young one, my darling,” he rose to his pointed feet, “ There is much more that can be done, but all things in their proper moment.  You are not yet steady in your first steps and you want to jump over mountains.”

I think I made my face grim.  “Can I offer you anything?” I said.

“So polite,” he replied and left without another word.

a reawakened tale

Sitting at the fire, staring through the flames, nobody knows what you can be thinking.  Everybody has their own thoughts and there are none can read them, even if some claim to.  This is the best thing in life.  To have secrets.  Our own possessions, with no danger of ever having them stolen.  Lost, perhaps, many things in our heads disappear over time.  But a thought well-kept is yours forever.

Certainly, there are those who will ask to know your thoughts, and they will be convincing and kind and carressing.  They will tell you that the best way to show your support, your love, is to show your darkest side.  There is some reason behind this.  Those who know your weaknesses and do not judge you badly are true friends.  They can be relied upon in bad times.  But, you do not really know if there will be no judgement, if intentions are pure and righteous.  You have to take a risk and show your cards, shine a light on the shadows of your soul.  And many will use that for their own ends.  Some will even mean to hurt you, even from the beginning.  What can you do, but do your best to reveal only the weakest secrets, those that have the least power over you?  At least until you have a secret that leaves the other in a weak position.  It is the most prudent idea.

This is what I learned one summer.  This is the guide that was offered to me by a powerful spirit.  He lurks in the shadows himself and he knows many secrets, although he does not read minds nor does he claim to.  He is an honest devil.  His rough coat left many hairs on my floor and his teeth many marks on my walls.  I do not know why he would bite them.  It is his secret.

I was still young then, and wanted to be loved.  I thought I could show my trust and have it given in return.  He came one night when I was deep in fantasy and surprised me at my fire.

“Good sundown, young one,” he rasped, “I think I find you lost in your own mind.”

“How come you here?  No door has been opened!”

“I come and go as I please because that is my choice to make.  All the shadows are my country.  And once the sun falls, my country is the largest in all existence.”

I did not like him.  He was arrogant and pushy.  He was like those who demand your secrets for themselves.

“Since you are here, I must offer you some refreshment.”

“You are kind and dutifull, young one, but I require nothing - at this time.”

“I will put water to boil, should you like a tea later.”

“No, it will not be a simple tea when I ask a favor of you.  Do not trouble yourself with water.”  And the smile curled and the eyes glowed and I felt cold in my heart.  I knew who he was, but I did not run, as we had been told to do.  Run and find the seer, who could tell us his plans and how to escape them.

“What do you want here, then?  I am poor and young, I have nothing to give you.”

The jaws opened in a cave and a sigh rustled, “But you may have much to wish.  You must have recognized me by now, and you must know that I always offer aid, and only rarely demand payment.”

I was skeptical.  I thought so, at least.  I thought I was clever and had knowledge from my elders that I could use.  “I know that you can turn minds to your will without us being aware.  You have strong magic and we should be cautious around you.”

Grinning lips and shining teeth and rolling eyes before the answer, “Really, young one, I have no magic, I am only one more piece of this grand universe, doing as I must.  It tickles me that you lot believe I have powers beyond your own.”

“You do move through the shadows like fish in the sea, and you have more ears than the spybird eyes.”

Mouth and eyes close, but deep chuckles in the throat slip out.  “Well, you got me with the shadows.  Still, every kind has its own talents, and you have many beyond my ability.”

“What talents might those be?”

“I don’t think I need to tell you all my secrets in one night, young one.  Perhaps later, when we are better friends.”

“I only asked for one,” I thought I was clever and even more clever than he was.  I thought I could outwit him in my house.

“Yes, just one, it always starts like that.  But one leads to the next and the next and the next.  You can easily lost control over your tongue if you are not careful from the beginning.”

I thought this was just an acknowledgement of my caution and my cleverness.  I was young and wanted to be smart.  I did not know for sure if he meant to compliment me, or if it was a thoughtless comment, but I felt more sure and more confident.

“I did not invite you, Vulk, and I do not think I was wishing for a spirit to come and solve my problems for me.  You want something and you think you can get it from me.  Tell me what it is and be done with the vagueries.  I do not think I will help you, but one never knows.”  I was very proud of my little speech.  I had said everything without a wavering word.

Vulk stood up and said, “I see nobody has told you that I much prefer ‘Uncle’ from my friends.  Ah, but maybe you do not think we are friends yet?  Soon we will be, young one, do not fret.  As for what I want, I want only to be of service.  I love to see smiles on human faces and yours was lacking.  And it really is no chore, the simplest things can make you happy, and require so little to repay.  I am happy to do a little service.” He bowed.  Then his burning eyes looked up into mine, “Or a big one, but of course you already know I would ask a favor in return.  My offer is but small, to put your mind at ease.”

“But what can you offer me now, that I do not know how to find for myself?  I wonder that you slipped into my house when so many others ask for things great and small daily at the market.”

Vulk seemed to go into thought, “Yes, they do, that they do,” he mused, “But somehow I do not think they are sincere.  They make wishes like morning mist; a pretty thing to see but in a blink it’s gone.”

I did not know what to do.  He was treating me like an equal, being honest, being clear with his words.  He did not dismiss me as a silly thing, not old enough to have thoughts worth listening to.  It was all I wanted at the time.  That and to be loved.  I sat down and asked, “Do you know what others say in their homes?  Do they think of me?”

His smile was long and straight and terrible as it sliced through his steely face, “You do not mean others, I suppose, you mean one.  And I cannot tell you, as you know I read no minds.  I can only make my guesses, just like you.”  But he winked his raging eye and flashed his shining tooth and I thought he was treating me as a child again.  Pride and anger made me bold.

“If you think I mean just one, then tell me if I am in those thoughts!  This small favor you can do me with no trouble, I think!”

He rolled and laughed and shook himself, “Oh dear, I have upset you!  Not my intention at all, my dear!  You must remember that I simply do not see what it in others’ minds, and if your name is not spoken I cannot know if you are in the thoughts of anyone at all!  I have heard your name in the shadows, that is true, but I do not think the speakers are the ones you would care to know.”

I meant to shroud my heart, but of course it was too late.  He had seen my sadness and he knew he had me in his gripping claws.  He could only be sneakier as a spider.  “Oh dear one, let me offer you council.  As I said, I do not read minds, but I hear voices and I see faces.  Even when they think themselves hidden.  I will tell you how to reach the heart you crave.”  And his face was lightning and his eyes were fire.  I could not say no.  My heart was lightning and fire too.  I would give up all my secrets to know those of my beloved, and I would let them travel through this spirit, even though it was what they had warned me against all my life.  I was going to take the risk.

a wiley tale

So once there was a little wood and in the wood was a little house and in the house lived a little family.  They were a special family, blessed and cursed, to guard the gold of the great wizard.  While they did their duty, they would be young and healthy and want for nothing.  But, if they forsook this task or failed in it, their lives and all they knew would be lost.

It all began when the two children were in the deep woods, gathering leaves for supper tea.  They came across an old man sleeping under a tree with his sack beside him, unguarded.  They were only children and they couldn't help themselves, they had to look inside.  This they did, and it was gold, gold, gold beyond their wildest dreams.  Especially because children in the woods dream of soft beds more than gold.  They were enchanted and raced home with the sack, forgetting all about the old man.  They told their parents that they found the gold in the woods, not really a lie, and the sack was stuffed into the rafters while the parents figured out what to do with such a windfall.

The first night one raven landed on the roof and started to call, "Gold, gold!"  The second night, two ravens came to call.  The third night there came three.  After several weeks, the roof was covered in ravens, all calling for gold.  The family was beside itself.

"Who can rid us of these blasted birds?" shouted the father.

"They are clear about what they want, family," came the dark voice from the trees.  And then the bright little eyes were there, and the icy teeth.  And then the bladed paws came out.  "You have a thing that is not yours," said the wolf calmly, "And the birds always know."  The ravens looked down, tense and angry.  They were no longer calling.

"It was a mistake," began the father.

"I mind that not," cut in the wolf, "I will help you out of generosity.  That is something I am known for.  Ask the birds."  He grinned at them and feathers ruffled.  "The gold you have was held by a wizard.  It is now full of his power and you cannot control it.  The birds know all this and have brought me to help you."  He nodded.  Ravens hopped.  "Now, I will give you power over the gold, and the wizard will take no vengeance upon you."  Wink and smile.  The family looked at each other in confusion and doubt.  Darkness returned as the wolf rumbled, "He is a powerful wizard, jealous of his possessions, he punishes thieves ferociously.  Let me offer you protection!"

The ravens started screaming all together with no words.  The family clapped their hands over their ears in terror.  "Yes, yes, help us!" shouted the father, and the ravens stopped immediately.  Then they flew off in all directions.

The wolf sat before them and smiled.  "You are safe from the wizard now, my dears, as long as you keep this gold.  Stay with it and you will want for nothing.  I will see to that.  Think of me as your uncle."  And he smiled and stood and smiled and turned and smiled and walked away.

And the family was calm at first, when no bad things happened for many days.  But after many days and many years, they realized that they were stuck.  The children grew no older, and neither did their parents.  Finally, the mother had enough and she took the gold to the river, thinking that the wizard must be dead by now, and if he wasn't, who would hold a grudge for so long?  But she found no place to hide the sack, so she returned home.  Instead of her family, she found three ravens waiting.  She looked at them and they looked at her.  She put the sack of gold back where it was, intending to deal with the intruders directly after, but when she turned around the ravens were gone and her family was standing there.  They all were filled with sadness, remembering the other ravens.

And that is the story of the gold of the wizard, the cursed gold, the gold that gives its holder all the time, until there can be no more.

one from wiley

Everyone knows there are frost giants and trolls in the mountains, but the existence of trolls in caves isn't such common knowledge these days.  And they can be as bad as mountain trolls, let me tell you.  Here's a story to show you what I mean.

The Cave Trolls of the East were tired of living in darkness.  Caves don't have windows, after all.  Of course, being trolls, they couldn't go out in the sun anyway, but they were envious of the other creatures of the wild, who could see or sleep as they pleased, with bright colors in summer and glowing snow in winter to greet them.  The cleverest group of trolls, they were three as these groups often are, came up with a plan.  They would bring the flying stars of the forest to their cave and have lights around them all day.  The colors would have to be figured out later.

A group of trolls trooped out of the cave, after sunset, when it was safe.  They started to catch the flying stars, and they had so much fun, and the stars were so beautiful, that they didn't stop until they had caught every one in the forest.  Then they returned to their caves with their prize.  It didn't take long for everyone to notice the stars were gone.  Not sure what to do, some people made a sacrifice to Odin to ask him for wisdom.  Odin had to ask his friend Mimir what had happened (the gods were celebrating a good crop of barley, if you know what I mean) and when he was told, Odin was not pleased.  He took his form as an old man in a dark cloak and he went to the trolls' cave.  He knocked at the door just as dusk was falling and several pairs of eyes lit up in the dark.  "Hello!" Odin called, "Can somebody help an old man in need of shelter for the night?"

Now, we think that trolls are hateful and selfish, but that's because we normally meet them in the mountains where they are poor and have nothing.  Cave trolls often live comfortably, except for the darkness, and they are generous to travelers, up until they eat them.

These trolls were happy to invite Odin in, not recognizing him.  They gave him mead and bread and stewed eagle eggs.  Then they asked him if he wanted to see the treasure.  In the past, they just took their guests to a dark corner of the cave, knocked them on the head, and dumped them in the stew pot.  But now, they really had a treasure and they wanted to show it off.  The cavern was full of stars, bright and shining, and all the trolls gazed at them in wonder.  Odin felt a little sorry that he had to take the stars away, but take them he must.

He began by complimenting the trolls on their skills at capturing the stars and the trolls felt flattered that a strange man would be so kind.  They all drank more mead and made themselves merry, and finally Odin proposed a game.  "You have been good at star catching," he said, "But the stars are innocent.  A man, on the other hand, is wily.  Do you think you could catch me if I hid in your caves?"  The trolls grasped their sides and gruffawed.  Of course they could find him.  These were their caves, after all.  And they were used to roaming around in the dark.  They all closed their eyes to give the man a sporting chance, and when they weren't looking, Odin took out his great sack and gathered all the stars inside.  Then he fled the cave with them, just making it out when the howls began.

Now it was dark, so the trolls could give chase.  Odin could not rest a moment that night.  In the morning the trolls had to hide in gullies and burrows and Odin tried to continue.  As a man he was weak, and he couldn't recover his godly form as the mead of the trolls blocked his powers.  Finally he could go no further and he sank down under a tree to rest.  Soon, he was asleep.

Even gods in human form are not aware of everything, and Odin had not noticed the two children playing among the trees.  Neither did he notice his crows, Hugin and Munin, come to guide him home to Asgard.  The crows screeched until the children looked over and then they noticed the sack.  Cautiously, the children came closer.  They took the sack and peered inside, and were enchanted to see the stars glowing happily.  In an instant they forgot about the old man napping against a tree in the forest and they ran home with a sack of stars.

Although the village folk were awed by the stars, they did not know what to do with them.  They could not start fires and people are so used to light that they are not impressed by stars in their homes, like the trolls were in their cave.  Nobody paid much mind to the children and the sack, until that night when a storm arose.  "'Tis the trolls of the caves!" some said, and they told the children to throw the sack of stars to the forest to show the trolls the way home.  The children refused, and with a crash of thunder, the door to the big house flew open.  Odin was beginning to feel his godliness again, and even though he was still an old man, he was larger than most and had a feel of electricity about him.  He stomped into the house and snatched the sack from the children gruffly.  But, before he went back into the storm, he turned and said to them, "You have kept the stars safe, and your village I will keep safe from now on."  Then the door slammed behind him.

Odin knew that if he let the stars free in the forest the trolls would just catch them all again, so he told the stars to fly higher than they had ever flown and opened the sack.  The stars rose, quickly to the tree tops, slowing down as the rain swished over them, then fast again as they reached the roof of the sky.  The stars stuck to the sky and were out of the reach of the trolls forever.  But they gave them light in the forest, and that was enough.

La espada

Érase una vez una niña que vivía con su familia en una cabaña de troncos en el campo.  Su padre cuidaba cabras y ovejas mientras su madre se ocupaba de la producción de queso y tela.  Los niños, una vez que alcanzaron la edad, tenían que ayudar cuidar de la casa.  La niña, que era la meas pequeña, tenía que barrer el suelo todos los días, su hermana cocinaba, y sus dos hermanos arreglaron ventanas, traían agua, y cortaban la leña.  También tenían que ayudar al padre con los animales algunos días.  A veces la niña iba a la pradera frente el Bosque Negro para recoger flores.  Algunas olían bien y otras solo tenían bonitos colores.

Un día la niña estaba en ello de las flores cuando vio algo extraño en la hierba.  Brillaba un poco y parecía de metal.  Se acercó para cogerlo y vio que era una espada.  Afortunadamente, la niña no vivía en una época o un país muy revuelto; lo único que sabía de espadas y guerreros venía de los cuentos de su madre.  Su padre siempre sonreía y agitaba la cabeza mientras ella hablaba y cuando terminó él decía, "Mujer, qué cosas dices."  No creía nada de lo que contaba su esposa, pero ahora la niña tenía la prueba de que los cuentos de su madre eran verdad.  Cogió la espada y la llevó a casa.

Cuando sus hermanos la vieron arrastrando un trozo de metal se echaron a reír.  El hermano mayor le quitó la espada y lo alzó al aire gritando, "Mirad!  Soy el rey!"  La niña se enfadó y le gritó, "No te murles de mí!  Es lo que contó mamá anoche!  El cuento del príncipe y la espada encantada!"  Al oir esto, sus hermanos reían aún más.  "Pero chiquitina," dijo su hermana, "son cuentos y nada más.  No me digas que también crees en hadas y fantasmas."  La niña arrancó la espada de las manos de su hermano y huyó llorando para esconderse detrás del refugio de las ovejas.  Unos minutos después apareció el hermano mayor.  Se sentó a su lado y dijo, "No llores, pequeña, solo estábamos bromeando contigo.  Escucha, ya he terminado con mi trabajo por hoy, ya que no es la temporada de esquilar todavía.  Voy a limpiar esa espada vieja.  Podemos colgarla en la pared y será una decoración interesante en casa.  Da algo de autenticidad a los cuentos de mamá."  Al oir esto, la niña se secó las lágrimas y sonrió, muy contenta de que su hermano entendiera, al menos un poco, que era importante tener la espada.

Esa tarde, la espada estaba ya colgada en la chinemea y la familia escuchaba a la madre una vez más después de cenar.  Estaba contando la historia del rey-héroe y la batalla que salvó su reino una vez por todas de sus grandes enemigos, y llegó a la lucha entre los líderes de los dos bandos.  Contó como sus espadas chocaron con clamores y chispas, y toda la familia escuchó un sonido como un trueno con un relámpago que cruzó la casa.  la espada brilló debilmente y vibraba también.  Todos quedaron boquiabiertos y paralizados con asombro.  Finalmente, tosió el padre y dijo, "Vaya, parece que va a haber tormenta.  Voy a comprobar que las ovejas están bien.  Hijo, ven conmigo.  Mi amor (dirigiéndose a su mujer), no crees que es hora de que los demás niños se acuesten?"  La madre asintió con su cabeza y suavemente empujó a sus hijos en dirección del dormitorio.  Dentro de un rato volvió el hermano mayor.   El menor preguntó por la tormenta y le contestó en un susurro, "Qué cosa más rara!  No hay tormenta, ni una nube, ni una brisa.  Es una noche estupenda con media luna casi como el sol.  Las ovejas están un poco nerviosas, pero los perros están tranquilos y no hemos escuchado aullidos de lobos ni visto huellas de osos enanos.  Papá se decía, pensando que yo no iba a escuchar, que la espada fue un regalo de un brujo o un mago, como el caballo de su tío bisabuelo, y teníamos que deshacernos de ella en cuanto pudiéramos."  Los niños se sorprensieron escuchar esto.  No sabían nada de ese caballo encantado o maldito y su padre siempre se había reído de los cuentos de magia.  Les costó dormirse esa noche.

Cuando se despertaron, todos corrieron hasta el cuarto principal donde tenían la chimenea - y la espada.  Seguía allí ante sus ojos anciosos.  Su madre los vio y dijo, "Qué bien que habéis levantado solos esta mañana.  A ver si seguimos así," mientras ponía el desayuno en la mesa.  El padre ya había salido con el rebaño.  Los chicos comieron rapidamente y salieron para ver si él quería que lo ayudaran o si había alguna cosa que construir o arreglar en la casa o en el refugio de las ovejas.  Las mujeres de la familia podían relajarse un poco y desayunar tranquilamente.  La hermana mayor y la madre hablaban del festival del mes siguiente.  Iba a ser una de las ayudantes de la 'emperatriz" y tenía que arreglar su vestido bueno y encontrar unos adornos.  La niña preguntó si quería unas flores de la pradera, y su hermana contestó, "Si el festival fuera más pronto me servirían, pero para cuando nos vistamos de doncellas divinas, las flores que habrá serán muy sombrías de color."  Podríamos secar algunas ahora," sugerió la niña.  "No," dijo la madre, "Las flores secas no tienen olor y además, crujen al moverse.  Tengo algunas tiras de tela que serán mejores adornos."  La niña, terminado el desayuno, fue a por la escoba.  Se sintió ofendida de que hubieran rechazado su oferta de flores, aunque en el fondo, sabía que su madre y su hermano tanían razón.  La hermana empezó a fregar los platos y la madre iba a empezar a batir la leche de oveja ordeñada esa mañana para un lote fresco de queso.

La niña gritó cuando abrió la puerta.  Sus hermanos estaban allí fuera con caras de susto.  Detrás estaba una pequeña banda de bandidos con cuchillos y dagas en las manos.  El líder sonreía y entró en la casa.  "Hola, preciosas," dijo, "Qué guapas estáis."  La niña corrió hacia su hermana y las dos se abrazaron de terror.  Los ladrones entraron detrás de su líder riéndose entre ellos, cuando de repente se callaron.  La niña vio que asombro y miedo llenaron sus rostros.  Dio la vuelta.  Allí estaba un caballero de los antuguos con la espada de la pared entre las manos.  Su piel era muy blanca, sus ojos y barba grises con el acero, y su túnica oscura como una nube de tormenta.  Todo su cuerpo menos la cara estaba cubierto con una cota de malla.  Avanzó sobre los ladrones.  Ellos eran cuatro y el líder quedó de frente mientras los otros tres se movieron para acorralarlo por los dos lados y por detrás.  Atacaron a la vez.  Las dagas del líder chocaron con la espada, emitiendo un chorro de chispas, pero los cuchillos de los otros tres pasaron por el cuerpo fantasmal y se acuchillaron unos a otros, todos falleciendo casi en el acto.  El líder vio a sus hombres muertos por las armas de sus compañeros, miró al caballero que quedó quieto con la espada alzada.  Y el líder de los ladrones huyó.  Casi tiró al padre al suelo cuando cruzó el umbral; el padre había enviado a sus hijos a buscar unas herramientas al cobertizo y cuando no volvieron en seguida fue a buscarlos para recriminarlos.  Se sorprendió al cruzerse con un hombre sucio, que parecía huir de su casa aterrorizado.  Se sorprendió más al ver a tres ladrones muertos en medio del cuarto principal.  Cuando el padre entró en la casa, el caballero se cuadró sujetando el puño de la espada con una mano sobre la otra, y con la punta de la hoja en el suelo.  Empezó, lentamente, a desaparecerse.  Finalmente desapareció del todo y la espada cayó al suelo con un fuerte ruido metálico.  La familia miraba boquiabierta.

Una semana después estaba todo como antes y la vida transurría con normalidad.  La espada había sido devuelta a su sitio encima del hogar.  Los cuerpos de los ladrones yacían bajo tierra justo en la frontera con el Bosque Negro.  La madre seguía contando cuentos a sus hijos.  El padre se reía como siempre al final, y dijo entonces, "Querida, espero que no les llenes las cabezas con tonterías."  En ese instante, la espada sonó, y parecía vibrar en su sitio y brillar débilmente.  El padre la miró, tosió, y dijo, "Claro, no todo se puede llamar tonterías."  Y el resto de la familia soltó unas risas alegres.

a tale of decisions - I decide it needs to end FFS

Both Meleneche and Prince David made ready, although neither knew the other was doing so.  Their eyes looked deep into the shadows from where the wolf was sure to come.  They waited, trying to calm their dancing steeds, but for many long minutes no threat showed itself.  Everyone managed to get their horses under control and the crowd began to edge towards the boundary between the Deep Woods and the mountain.

Now the ground was hard and dusty, and the sun beat down, for it was nearly midday.  The party was chatty, but signs of boredom were coming through.  They had not spotted any game, nor had they had a good chase over hill and dale.  They let comments about "the end of the season" drop.  They let their mounts stray from the crowd to snatch up succulent mouthfuls of short grass.  They did not notice that the Huntmaker did not notice.  Soon enough, they were all weary for a little shade, and a small stand of trees, close together like a tiny forest all on its own, called to the hunting party.  As they neared it, Prince David became anxious, not because of anything about the trees, but something inside told him not to rest.  His horse could still stand some work, it was snorting and jigging and sweating only lightly.

"Huntmaker!" he said in his most regal voice, "Do you plan to send a scout while the main party rests?  I fear my horse is nervous, and he would do better to keep moving."  Meleneche was not pleased; she had planned to scout herself, under the pretext of checking the trail for fallen trees or new hollows in the tough earth.  She could not tell the Prince what exactly she would have scouted for in front of the others, nor could she reject his offer without sounding strange.  She eased her calm dark gray up to the Prince's bright bay, as if to merely keep the exact details of the trail ahead from the rest of the party, keeping a surprise for them in the end.

"I thought to follow the Cracked Oak Trail to the cliffs in the east.  Mark where large jumps and tight turns are," then she moved even closer and said in a low voice, "Maybe you will find signs of a wolf.  I hear one is prowling these parts.  I'm sure you've heard the rumors, you being the Prince, but maybe not those of his latest haunts."

The Prince raised his eyebrows, hoping to convey only mild surprise, and said, "Indeed, I had heard there was a beast about, but I thought he was scavenging closer to the goat villages."

"Well, there are only rumors, my lord."

"Yes, of course.  I will be prepared."  Prince David tapped his horse's sides and they trotted off briskly, to the trail and the cliffs.

Meleneche watched them go, uneasy.  She returned to the resting party, in the shade of the trees, and said, "I do not like the air here.  Something is amiss."  The party was instantly invigorated.  Whether they thought she was acting for the sake of creating a sense of adventure or actually concerned did not matter.  The important thing was they were on the move.  They gathered up what had been left loose, remounted their unperturbed horses, and went off cautiously to the trail their Prince was scouting for them.

Up ahead, David was moving at a good pace on the back of his nervous steed, but still taking in the lay of the land.  No obstacles or holes waited in the party's way.  No signs of large wolves were to be seen either, just the typical shivering branches disturbed by an escaping startled rabbit.  He slowed his horse when they came near to the cliffs and finally stopped when they had a nice view over the valley below.  This part of the land was wild and green always, even in the winter.  The valley was a wide boundary between the Prince's domain and the territory of the Duchess of Sotelo.  "A better thing for it," David often thought.  He had no warm feelings for the proud Duchess.  All appeared as peaceful as a wild place could be, and he turned back to assure the party there was no danger.

Of course, he ran into them much sooner than he expected, as they had left the resting place so soon after he had, and he delivered his analysis of the trail ahead to the cliffs with confidence.  The party was disappointed.  They had hoped to at least some signs of large game.  They hadn't even let their horses have a good run yet.  "We will continue to the cliffs with care," announced the Huntmaker, "And if no signs of game can be found, we will go on to the Pine Rose Trail to return."  The Pine Rose Trail was a challenge, even downhill.  It was twisty and shrubs had a habit of falling onto it, making small jumps to keep horses on their toes.  At least they would have a good race on the way home.

Everyone was looking forward to a rough-and-tumble ride and not paying very much attention to the surroundings, except the cliffs themselves, so the mighty leaps the horses suddenly took nearly unseated the majority of the party.  Voices rose and heads whirled and hearts nearly stopped to see the grinning wolf.  He had come up the trail behind them, it seemed, and was now sitting calmly with a gleeful smile, blocking the Cracked Oak Trail off completely.

"You are bold, my friends, you risk much on a wild mountain," he chuckled, "Huntmaker!" he barked, "You are the boldest of all.  Leading wild rides over brush and timber like a warrior of yore.  The gods must have smiled upon you indeed."  Both Meleneche and Prince David had turned their horses to cut off the others from the wolf, and they faced him, hiding their fear deep down.  Meleneche waved the party down the path, sure that they could find the way down the mountain on their own, or at least their horses could.  She, the Prince, and the wolf faced each other for long silent minutes.  Finally he spoke again, "You nobles always cause such problems.  You oppress the poor and act surprised when they rise to cut their chains.  You cry bitter tears when they trample your fine trinkets, which they have never seen the like of and have no use for.  You force the little people to defend themselves and are offended that they take the only path you have left open."  Now he was creeping toward them, teeth bared, voice growling.  But still his lips were a stiff smile and his eyes gleeful slits.

"My people do not suffer," said David uncertainly, "My Advisor would tell me if they had pressing needs."

"You do not understand what needs are pressing to others," hissed the wolf, quickening his pace.  The horses were backing away, but were too afraid to run as they would have liked.  "You assume those who are not starving have good lives, you allow their dreams to die and their paths to be closed off to them.  For what?  You do not even benefit.  Every wasted life is a waste to you as well."  The wolf was almost roaring now, his eyes rolling suns, his teeth were lightning.  He lept - and Meleneche lept also.  They both flew over the edge of the cliff as the Count's daughter's horse found its terror and spun around to flee down the path, and Prince David jumped from his own horse as it panicked and ran blindly into the mountainside.

David looked over the edge of the cliff, shouting, "Meleneche!" and she was there, on a small ledge, and there was no wolf to be seen.

"He laughed," she gasped," and was gone in a puff of smoke!"  Prince David stretched his hands out to her and she took them.  Between the two of them, she made it to the top of the cliff, and they both took a rein of Prince David's horse, who was still there, stunned after running into the rock.  They led him down the trails and back to the palace in silent thought.

When they reached the palace, Edmund the Advisor was waiting for the Prince with a terse note from the Duchess of Sotelo about possible conspirators against her hiding on the mountain.  Prince David sighed and tore the note into little pieces.

Hunts were stopped for a few months while rangers scoured the woods looking for the conspirators and any sign of the wolf.  A few dirty, starved folk were rounded up, but they seemed too frightened and hungry to be conspiring against anybody, so the Prince sent them to labor in one of the goat villages.  There they could eat and gain strength, as well as pay for their trespassing.  They refused to explain where they had come from and why they were there and how they came to such a pitiful state, and after the winter had passed they disappeared without a word to anybody.  They didn't even steal any goats.  For that reason, most likely, nobody felt like looking for them.  Prince David had put off going back to the Seer, but after declaring non-intervention in the Duchess' war with her people, he felt like he had made enough decisions for the stones.  And yet, the result was the same.  "You have made important decisions recently, and I told you to stick to unimportant ones," was the Seer's explanation.

"Oh, for Vulk's sake!" shouted David on his way to the door.

"Why do you even need my advice?" the Seer called after him, "You've been making good decisions when they count.  That sniffy Edmund of yours is no fool, he tells you what you need to hear.  I'm just an old woman telling tales to simple folk."  With that she waved and winked, and shut the door quietly.

Prince David frowned and thought about her words, sitting on his horse in the middle of the road.  Meleneche rode up to him, on her handomest hunting horse, catching him a bit off-guard.

"Don't you think it's time to start the hunts again, my lord?  There have been no discoveries of any new intrusions for months.  It's just time for the Spiny Deer to be at their most active, and you know how people love to chase them over the high meadows.  Especially that middle-Count Josias.  I think a hunt would put him in a mood to discuss the bridge over the Cloudy River that he has been refusing to contribute to."

"Well, if he comes to court we can certainly have that discussion," mused Prince David, "and a good hunt would make him more flexible when it comes to working with his neighbors.  But you are the Huntmaker.  It's your decision."

And as he said the last words he couldn't help but smile.

a tale of decisions - not much is decided

Prince David's life rolled on with little excitement, and he refused to visit the Seer again until she apologized and addressed him properly.  Edmund did not push the issue.  He had never put much trust in seers anyway, and had been slightly alarmed by her recent provocations.  Soon, though, the visitors who once had been content to spend a few days chatting blandly at princely meals and strolling aimlessly through royal gardens began to seek out more exciting pleasures at the palace.  They began to seek out Meleneche.  "How she knows the trails!" they exclaimed afterwards, "How well she understands the game!"  The Prince was bemused by the new dinner commentary.  It seemed nobody cared to work on diplomatic matters at his palace anymore, they all wanted to relax and enjoy a good hunt.  It is true that not every hunt ended with a game beast on the table or trophies sent off for mounting, but the thrill of the chase was charming and exhilarating, and any courtier or noble with any amount of athletic skill was drawn to have a run in Meleneche's pack.

Actually, Prince David didn't really mind; it left his palace quiet for the most part.  Even at mealtimes when the guests were chattering about the plans or the results, they controlled themselves.  Before the hunt it was to avoid jinxing their chances, and afterwards they were too tired to make much fuss.  Only Edmund the Advisor worried about the political repercussions.  Finally, he tried to take the Prince aside to speak of this serious matter, but the Prince brushed him off, saying, "Edmund, everything is running perfectly.  Only the most pressing complaints reach my ears, and I have plenty of time to deal with them now that I am not distracted by petty concerns."

"But Highness, nobody has brought any business for the past two weeks.  The guests only come to hunt."

"Precisely, Edmund, everything is fine," and the Prince strode away to his library to reorder his treatises on grilling.  Edmund shook his head, beginning to worry in earnest.

Of course, quiet times can simply be that.  But often something is happening under the surface, just waiting for its moment to bubble up.

Unknown to everyone at the palace, conspirators had taken to the mountains, enemies of the Duchess of Sotelo.  They had no quarrel with Prince David or his family, but neither did they have any friendship to offer him.  They had assumed the Prince's lackadaisical attitude towards the mountain hunt would allow them to remain hidden as long as they wanted.  The new Huntmaker's talent for finding hidden trails and secretive game was an unwelcome surprise.  Meleneche actually had no idea there were people holed up in little caves and shelters, although she did sometimes wonder about the traces of activity she found.  "Some Huntmaker," she would say later.  "Huntmaker, not soldier or bounty hunter," she would be told in reply.

The conspirators tolerated the hunt for some months.  They expected the activity to die down when winter came with its chill winds and stinging snow, and were unhappily surprised once again when the number and range of hunts did not in fact drop.  Meleneche had groups on horseback and foot, even camping on occasion, taking deer, boars, birds, and bears as game when they could.  Despite the fact that nobody had any idea the conspirators were there - even in Sotelo there were no rumors that placed them on the mountain - their agitation grew with every passing hunt.  They decided they needed to discourage further intrusions into the forest and the mountain.  They turned to their advisor.  He promised them, smiling broadly, that soon enough he would have the Count's daughter, not to mention every other noble in the realm, with no desire to return.

On a frosty fall morning, the air is clear and the light is pleasant.  It is a good time to hunt.  On one such morning, Meleneche saddled her horse and gathered her small hunting party in the stable yard.  They were hoping to spot a Great Elk, one of the prize trophies of the mountains, but it was understood to be unlikely.  Few were left, and they were swift.  The hunting party was serious but undemanding.  They were all well-experienced, both with this Hunt-Maker to the Royal House, and with hunts in general.  It had become a greater challenge to follow Meleneche over the trails with the dangers of a horse shying or falling than to merely shoot some poor beast.  The Prince's Hunt was fast evolving into a steeplechase.  The group was mounted on sturdy, mature horses, experienced on the trails already, and trusting of their riders.  These were not mounts to see stumble and lose the crowd.  They were walking their calm steeds to the gate when they were surprised to hear brighter, lighter hoofbeats behind them, and the Prince himself call out, "Do not leave your Prince behind, good courtiers!"  Not only not left, but allowed to pass to the front, nearly abreast to the Huntmaker, the Prince and his spirited chestnut mount joined the party.  Nobody would say a word to him, of course, but many an experienced eye caught another, silently trading impatience over that mount.  Such a nervous beast would cause nothing but trouble on the chase.  A more fawning Huntmaker would adjust the hunt to something more in line with the Prince's steed's abilities, he carried the Prince on his back after all, but Meleneche was not in the habit of changing her plans for anyone or anything but the most dire of weather.  The stage was set for an inevitable bad experience.

To everyone's relief, the party rode for almost two hours with no problems.  The pace was relaxed, the horses calm, the riders alert but not tense.  They stopped at a broad stream for the horses to drink and to work out any last minute details for the next leg of the ride.  Although ascending the mountain had gone well, the horses needed a break.  Meleneche was nervous, but controlled herself well.  She had let rumors of the elk go among the party, but her plan was actually another.  She meant to track a lone wolf that had been harassing wood cutters.  These solitary creatures were generally old or sick, which was why they had been thrown out of the pack, and no trouble for mounted hunters even if they could successfully attack a person on foot.  It had been seen mostly on the north side, prowling through stands of trees.  It had killed nobody - yet.  But it was a nuisance and had to be dealt with.  In fact, that was the true reason why Prince David had joined the party; although he had mentioned it to nobody, he was concerned about his reputation as protector of his people.  While his nobles kept their eyes open for tall and slender beasts, he would scan the landscape for signs of thin and slinking creatures of the shadows.

When all seemed restored to full energy, the party mounted up to start the ride into the Deep Forest.  There was a band of thickly wooded mountainside between the more cultivated trees and the sparse higher altitudes.  The ground was always shaded and movement through it was slow.  Except for wolves, apparently.  While most of the party believed they were taking a shortcut to the elk's most likely haunts, both Meleneche and David were purposely stalking a dweller of darkness.  As they moved into the dimness under the intertwined branches, David lamented to himself never having bothered to find hunting hounds.  When dealing with a wolf, it seemed safer to have some "hands on the ground".  Of course, it was too late for that now.  The hunting party gradually disappeared into the heavy underbrush and shadow of the Deep Forest.  Prince David's horse was getting more and more nervous, but was unable to bolt or shimmy with the thick growth all around it.  The others shook their heads, more than one thinking, "I could have told him to pick a better horse."  But of course, they had said nothing, because he was the Prince and they weren't even his Advisors.  Then, suddenly, the other horses started to twitch and snort too, and everyone knew at once that something wasn't quite right.

a tale of decisions - i decide it might continue

That evening Edmund reminded the Prince that he had a decision to make, if he wanted another visit with the Seer.  The Prince sighed with impatience and said, "Very well," then stood to proclaim his decision in as royal a manner as possible.  "I have decided," he proclaimed, "to ask Meleneche, daughter of Count Jacob of the New Meurells, if she would consider giving me her hand in marriage."

The Advisor blinked in irritated surprise.  "If she would consider, my lord?  Isn't that cheating just a bit?"

The Prince sighed again and said, scratching his head, "Look Edmund, the Seer said I had to decide on some unimportant thing.  A marriage is important, especially for a prince, so I can't actually make that decision myself, can I?"

"But you admit the decision is important, and then you foist it onto somebody else's head - "

"Tut, tut, Edmund," said the Prince, as he strode to his personal door at the end of the meeting hall, "A decision has been made and that's all that was necessary.  Tomorrow we shall revisit the Seer."  And he breezed through his door before his Advisor could raise another doubt.

They set off after breakfast, just a small party of guards, the Prince, the Advisor, and the Count's daughter.  Edmund had suggested bringing her along just to prove that the Prince wasn't pulling anyone's leg about his decision, and neither of them protested, much.  They arrived at the door of the Seer's hut, calm and untroubled by their traveling.  The Seer seemed surprised when she opened the door, although she covered it quickly.  "Come back for another try I suppose, David," she harrumpfed, and led them to the divining circle.

"Could you please remember to call me 'my lord' or at least 'Prince David'?"

"No time for titles," she snapped, and tossed the stones rather abruptly and without preparation, in the Advisor's opinion.  She stared at the fallen stones for a moment.  Then she bent down to peer more closely at them.  "Huh."

Prince David was getting agitated.  "Well, what is it this time?"

The Seer puckered her lips and thought, then spoke slowly, "You do not take decision making very seriously.  Not the best trait for a prince to have."

"I try not to interfere in things that are working," answered the Prince testily.

"Yes, well," the Seer now sat back on her heels and stared at the ceiling, "You'd best get a little practice in for when things get bad.  A leader has to lead, not just wear pretty jackets."  Here she gestured at the Count's daughter's ruby velvet coat.  "Even unimportant decisions should be made with an eye to their consequences."

"Things are going to get bad, is that what you see?" asked the Prince expectantly.

The Seer shook her head and rose creakily to her feet, "Things always get bad, it's the way of the world.  The trick is being ready to ride out the flood or shovel off the snow when it comes, not get buried in it."

"You sound just like my father," the Prince mumbled.  Yet again he left the Seer's hut unsatisfied.  His entourage kept silent all the way home, for fear of provoking his wrath.

He was still angry the next morning at breakfast and all the servants walked on porcelain eggshells.  Meleneche entered the dining hall and he stood gallantly while she made her way to her chair, sat, and was served an assortment of meats and jams.  She picked up her fork and knife, and paused, looking at him expectantly, whereupon he sat down himself.  "Very chivalrous," she commented.

"Just as a husband should be, isn't that so?"

Meleneche chewed a succulent mouthful of lamb as she considered.  "I think I would rather my husband had a head on his shoulders than chivalrous pride."

The Prince threw down his napkin in disgust, banging his own cutlery on the table.  "Everyone is determined to get on my bad side these days!" he shouted and stormed out of the room.

Edmund the Advisor gracefully approached the Count's daughter as she continued her breakfast in peace and said calmly, "I do wish you'd be more careful when he's in a mood,  He is the Prince, you know."

"And I am the daughter of the Count of the New Meurells, and granddaughter of the Rayjeen of Thamuth."

The Advisor raised his eyebrows.  "Your mother's mother, I gather.  No wonder you have such a character.  Which I say in no manner to offend," he added hastily, met with a gaze just as fiery as Prince David's.

"He said I would decide to marry or not," said the woman, "I think I have decided.  I am a court woman, but I shall be no prince's wife.  I will request the post of huntmaker."

"It's not been a woman's post before."

"Should I care?  You saw my trophy, got my first morning here."

"Yes," Edmund muttered, and shuffled away, for the first time in all his years as Advisor to the Prince feeling very unsure of himself and his world.

Prince David was not upset, exactly, when told of the Count's daughter's decision.  "I gave her the choice myself," he said.  He did seem mildly surprised, and a bit concerned, perhaps wondering at last if being a prince was good enough to be a husband too.

He hesitated to give her the huntmaker's post because, as Edmund had told her, no woman had held it yet, but the Prince was something of a modern man who did not worry much about traditions.  He had been impressed with her first hunt on his lands, and in the end the post was hers.  A small ceremony was held in which he draped over her a sash which read "Hunt-Maker to the Royal House" and she made a short bow that could have shown either disdain or nervousness.  The Prince chose not to notice.

She took up her new post without fanfare, apart from the small ceremony, which raised eyebrows among the other courtiers.  They were used to pomp and celebration, even from huntmakers, so the simplicity of the Count's daughter's takeover was something to talk about.  Meleneche seemed to ignore the wagging tongues completely, naturally causing them to wag even more.  Prince David also paid no heed.  Edmund the Advisor said nothing, but worried that this might cause the courtier's to lose respect for the Prince's decisions, and eventually affect the view of him held by the people themselves.  However, time passed and the novelty wore off the situation.  Meleneche was just the Huntmaker, not "that strange woman who thinks she's the Huntmaker".  She began building a reputation for herself with a steadiness that might appear deliberate, if one did not know her and her nervously modest personality.

a tale of decisions - I decide to continue later

The Seer tossed the stones and studied them carefully when they landed clickety-clack on the wooden boards.  She studied them with unblinking eyes and brow scrunched into a planting field.  Half her face was hidden behind her knees.

"Well?" barked Prince David, "What do you see, woman?"

The Seer heaved a heavy sigh, "The stones are not clear.  They contradict each other and speak of unrelated things."

"Well, throw them again, then!"

The Seer rose with a disdainful sigh, "I cannot throw them again because they would say the same thing or even less.  We must wait for some circumstance to change."

The Prince began to stroll around the room, shaking his head in frustration, "Look at me change, woman, I'm in a new spot every second.  Surely the stones will have some new insight."

The Seer gathered her stones in one swift swipe of her bony hand.  "No," she snapped, "The stones know when you try to fool them.  Go back to your palace and decide on something unimportant.  Return tomorrow and that unimportant something will change everything."

The Prince went home furious and cursing the Seer.  "That awful woman thinks she knows everything just because she's made some lucky guesses in the past.  But she has no right to push me around!"  In his chambers he pondered, "What unimportant decision could I make?  I am the Prince.  Everything I do is important!"  As he thought these words, his advisor entered, carrying a letter from the Count of the New Meurells.

"The Count requests an audience, my lord," he said.

"How do you know?  Have you been reading my mail again?" snapped the Prince, snatching the letter for himself.

"No," sighed the advisor, "The messenger told me.  I suppose the letter says the same, but one never knows.  Especially with the lower ranks..."

The Prince ripped open the seal as his advisor spoke and quickly looked over the letter.  There was a moment of silence as he considered its contents.  "The Count requests I consider his daughter Meleneche for my wife.  Where does he get off thinking I don't have my own ideas for something so important?"

"Oh, you have ideas, sire?  I've never heard you mention any."

"Careful, Edmond.  It's not wise to insult the intelligence of your betters."

"Forgive me, my lord, what I meant was you've never spoken of finding a wife."

The Prince flumpfed down in his soft thinking chair with a hand massaging his thinking beard.  "Now that I think about it," he mused, "it never has actually seemed that pressing to me.  Maybe it's even seemed...unimportant."

The advisor, naturally, was advised of the Seer's instructions.  "Well, you can say yes or no.  The main thing is that you decide, if you want another session with the Seer."

"Yes, yes, well at least I should see her before I decide, don't you think?" said the Prince absent-mindedly.

"She was at the Grand Ball a few months ago," reminded the Advisor patiently, "She was wearing that dress with too many sparkle-stones.  Most found her ostentatious."

"Ah, the girl with the black, wavy hair?"

"No, sire, I believe the Count's daughter is blond."

"Oh.  Huh."  The Prince did not seem perturbed by his misremembrance.

"She could be called up for a formal presentation.  Even if not for your bride, she could be a new lady-of-the-court.  We are short a few now."

The Prince drummed his fingers on the arm of his thinking chair.  "I guess we should invite her.  It's the least I can do, having been asked directly."

"At once, sire," said his Advisor, with a short bow as he left the room.

The Count's daughter arrived several days later, in a carriage that looked as if it had been driven through the most hellish of swamps.  The door was opened and the young woman was helped to alight on the Prince's entrance path.  Her steps to the door of the palace were fast and determined, and once inside her heels clacked horribly on the slate floors.  The Prince heard her coming from several halls away and rubbed his temples in pre-frustration.  She appeared in the door, paused, and strode into the room.  In spite of having traveled in the carriage, she was wearing a riding costume with its heavy skirt and her hair was tightly braided as if for a ride through the country.  The Prince noted her pale face, which gave her an air of shock.  She came with heavy steps into the hall, stopped before the Prince and curtsied curtly.  She said, "It was my father sent me here, I'll have you know.  I had nothing to do with it."

The Prince rolled his eyes.  "But you're here now, aren't you?  Do you know what your father's plans were?"

"To marry me off, I suppose."

The Prince shifted impatiently, "Or get you to the Court where you could bring glory to your family."

The woman met his gaze with an icy stare," Yes, but the end result would be the same.  Court women are expected to marry court men, at least after a time."

The Prince stood up abruptly, "Well it's not a law, is it?  You can be here, being glorious without a husband, can't you?"

"People expect things, sire," said the woman simply, and she turned to go without waiting to be dismissed.  "Where are my quarters?"

"Oh, ask Edmond," grumped the Prince, flopping down again in his chair, and turning his face from the door.  The Count's daughter clopped out in her noisy boots.  "My unimportant decision must be 'no'," mumbled the Prince.

But the next day they ran into each other as they were both leaving on a hunt.  Neither could hide the mortification and frustration at inadvertently interfering in the other's affairs.

"Good morning, lady," said the Prince, and he spurred his horse towards the woods.

"Good morning, sire" grumbled the lady, and she guided her mount towards the mountain road.

The Prince found himself a little put out that she had organized her own hunt.  Nobody had such initiative in his court!  Maybe she would be a good addition after all.  The Prince was distracted in his hunt, thinking of what the Count's daughter would say about his choices of bait, chase, and subterfuge.  He returned to his palace after some hours, without prey, but with a feeling of mild disappointment.  He also returned to a woman triumphant.  The Count's daughter had gone into the mountains and her crowd had hunted out a large boar, much larger than those normally found, and had killed him.  The Prince, on the other hand, had nothing to show for his efforts but an empty bullet pouch.

"I congratulate my lady on her kill," he said gallantly, upon seeing the hunting party and their prize.

"'Twas not my doing," she said, withdrawing from his backpatting hand, "My huntsmen killed him."

"But you lead the hunt, plotted the chase, I assume."

"Well, yes, but that's the easy part, my lord.  Anybody could spot and follow a boar of such size, but bringing it down takes more strength than most have."  The huntsmen grinned with stupid pride at her words, and Prince David found himself admiring her modesty.

"This beast shall make a fine centerpiece at the ceremonial dinner," he proclaimed.

"What ceremony?"

"Well, Lady Meleneche, I gather you will be staying at the court one way or another.  Your success today merits you a formal welcome."

She looked suspicious and spoke as if ashamed, "I had hoped to send the head or at least the tusks to my father.  You may be aware that we both have a wall full of trophies at his country manor."

"I was not," admitted the Prince, "but I see no reason why the head cannot be sent while the body is prepared for the feast."  Edmond the Advisor stepped up to the Prince and hissed something into his ear.  "Er, after the taxidermist stabilizes it, of course," the Prince sputtered, "The journey is long, after all."

The Count's daughter was mildly impressed by the Prince's generosity, as well as amused by his lack of knowledge of the treatment of hunting trophies.  She bowed her head brusquely and hustled off to her rooms to change for dinner.

el leñador

Érase una vez un leñador que vivía muy bien en su pequeño pueblo.  Era un hombre de muy buen humor y carácter alegre, que siempre agradaba a todos con sus chistes y canciones cómicas.  Tenía una casa muy humilde a corta distancia del pueblo para estar más cerca al bosque y no tener que viajar mucho para cortar árboles y recoger ramas y troncos caídos.  Vivía solo, aunque tenía buenas relaciones con sus familiares y muchos amigos.  Decía que mientras no pudiera dar a una novia un traje de seda y zapatillas de oro, no la merecía.  Muchas mujeres del pueblo tenían otra opinión sobre él y sobre sus brazos fuertes, pero nadie lograba cambiarle de idea.  Muchas personas lo llamaban el alma del pueblo y decían que mientras el leñador vivía entre ellos, todos podían confiar en vivir contentos.

Un día estaba recogiendo la madera cortada el día anterior.  Tenía el hábito de pasar un día cortando, el siguiente recogiendo, y el tercero viendo a los clientes y cobrando por sus servicios.  Era tan sano y fuerte que a nadie en el pueblo le faltaba leña en todo el año, pero también dependía de su mula.  El pobre animal ya tenía muchos años; nunca había tenido otra, y aunque todavía trabajaba con ganas, se movía más lentamente que antaño.  Ese día, en la frontera del bosque, cayó muerta llevando mucha leña detrás.  Fue un momento horrible para el leñador.  Podía arrastrar la leña la corta distancia que le separaba de la leñera, pero ¿qué iba a hacer con el resto todavía en el bosque?  Y habría que buscar tiempo para cavar una fosa y enterrar a la pobre mula.  Claro que podía pedir ayuda en el pueblo.  Él mismo había hecho lo mismo por sus amigos y sus animales de carga.  Pero era un fastidio tener que dejar de trabajar el resto del día y emplear el siguiente para buscar otra mula.  Quizás podía probar con un buey.  Su primo los usaba en su granja y eran tan fuertes como mulas y más tranquilos.  A lo mejor su primo podría venderle o alquilarle uno para la temporada.  Mientras pensaba, no se dio cuenta de las nubes que cubrían el cielo con un espeso manto gris.  Al notarlo, maldijo - ¡Que me lleven los demonios!

- Cuidado con lo que dices, hijo - escuchó entonces - Nunca sabes cuándo tus deseos se cumplirán.

Se giró y descubrió a una anciana que nunca había visto en el pueblo.  Llevaba un vestido de rayas rojas y blancas y se cubría los hombros con un chal negro.  La falda no dejaba ver los piés y el chal actuaba de capucha sobre su canosa cabeza.  Tenía una sonrisa que dejaba su cara arrugada con más arrugas aún.

- Muy bien, abuelita - dijo el leñador - Tienes razón.  Pero estoy en un lio y no sé cómo voy a salir de él antes de terminar la semana.

- Ay hijo - dijo la mujer con preocupación - Cuéntamelo.  A lo mejor te puedo ayudar.

Y el leñador se lo contó, y cuando terminó la anciana salió corriendo como una niña con una risa aguda.  El leñador la miró irse casi con incredulidad por la manera de reaccionar, pero pronto recordí que tenía que mover la leña antes de que empezara a llover.  Al cabo de unas horas tenía toda a salvo en el cobertizo.  No había caído una gota de lluvia, pero tampoco se habían dispersado las nubes.  Ahora tenía que ocuparse de la mula.  Volvió al lugar, gruñiendo, y justo cuando llegó cayó un rayo enorme y azul con un chasquido y olor a hierba quemada.  El leñador tuvo que cubrirse los ojos y al bajar el brazo vió que la anciana había vuelto y ella también cubría la cara.  A su lado tenía un enorme caballo de color castaño que agitaba la cabeza y bufaba.  La anciana bajó las manos, temblando con las risas que salieron de su boca desdentada, y huyó otra vez.  El cuerpo de la mula no se encontraba en ninguna parte.  El caballo parecía un poco nervioso pero no huyó cuando el leñador se acercó y lo cogió por la crin.  Sin saber qué otra cosa podía hacer, lo llevó al establo donde había vivido la mula y el caballo entró mansamente.  El leñador se dió cuenta de que no tenía el arnés de cuero y volvió a buscarlo, oportunamente ya que en el mismo momento en que lo encontró, sonó un trueno como una bomba y empezaron a caer océanos de agua.  Maldiciendo todo el rato, el leñador corrió con el arnés al refugio de su casa.

El día después fue al bosque con el caballo para probarlo en el trabajo.  Enorme que su sorpresa cuando vio que el caballo llevó el cargamento de leña solo a casa, sin que él tuviera que guiarlo, y más enorme aún cuando volvió con la carreta vacía.  - Algún vecino habrá pasado y me ha hechado una mano - pensó el leñador.  Sin embargo, pasó lo mismo varias veces más a lo largo del día.  Cuando llegó a su casa con el último cargamento, vio que toda la leña estaba ordenada, puesta perfectamente en el cobertizo.  Se quedó mirando un largo momento mientras que el caballo, que no había dejado caer una gota de sudor a pesar de su duro trabajo, entró en el establo tranquilamente y esperó con paciencia a que el leñador le quitara el arnés.

Y todo siguió así.  El caballo podía con todo el trabajo que le daba el leñador, y hasta sabía donde hacer las entregas de leñada.  Iba solo, relinchando para que saliera el receptor u cuando éste había cogido su pedido.  Siempre había arboles y troncos perfectos para cortar sin que el leñador tuviera que entrar mucho en el bosque.  La vida parecía ir de maravilla para el hombre, tanto que finalmente pensó que podía considerar buscar una esposa.  En el festival de la cosecha, llegó con su ropa más elegante, montado el caballo.  El animal parecía entender que era una noche especial, en la que tenía que lucirse, y trotó con mucho brío y energía por las calles, agitando su cabeza para que se moviera su melena como una llama.  Aunque los habían visto muchas veces haciendo las entregas, todo el mundo los miraba pasar como mirarían a un príncipe o héroe.  Y así se sentía el leñador en esos momentos.  Siempre había sido atractivo para las chicas, pero ahora todas lo miraban con ojos ardiendo con un deseo profundo y casi mágico.  Al final de la calle, la hija del médico del pueblo estaba esperando.  Era una chica muy guapa, algo mayor de la edad normal de las novias, por las preocupaciones de sus padres en encontrar a un yerno que la cuidara como ellos querían.  Al final se habían dejado convencer por un ganadero rico que les prometió que por lo menos siempre tendrían los productos del ganado y nunca sufriría hambre, ni sed, ni frío en su casa.  Pero la boda iba a tener lugar en la primavera.  La bonita muchacha seguía soltera la noche del festival.  Se acercaron caballo y jinete.  El fuego de la hoguera no estaba tan rojo ni tan caliente como las mejillas de la chica que los miraba.  El leñador la cogió de la mano y la subió a la silla con él.  Dando un salto increíble, el caballo voló por encima de la hoguera, cruzó el campo de la fiesta y los tres se desvanecieron en las sombras de la noche, dejando a los demás asombrados y temerosos por su seguridad.

No volvieron hasta pasados 24 horas enteras.  Sus caras estaban verdiblancas y sudorosas como las de los mareados.  El caballo era tan bonito y fuerte como siempre aunque sus cascos estaban cubiertos de un barro extraño, rojizo, lleno de bichos raros de aspecto terrorífico.  El leñador dejó a la chica en la puerta de la casa de sus padres y él volvió a la suya con el caballo.  Ninguno de los dos hablaron nunca de lo que pasó mientras estaben galopando por tierras desconocidas.  La chica se recuperó, más o menos, y en la primavera se casó con el ganadero como era previsto, pero antes le sacó la promesa de llevarla lejos del pueblo.  Así hizo, pudiendo adquirir los derechos de pasto en una zona dos pueblos más al sur a cambio de los suyos, y en el pueblo más cercano a los nuevos pastos el primo de la mujer del médico les alquiló una casa señorial.  Poco tiempo después, los padres de la novia se apresuraron para llegar a tiempo de ver nacer a su nieto.  Nunca más volvieron.  Mandaron empacar todas sus pertenencias y enviarlas fuera pero nadie logró sacar a los obreros el destino.  Rumores empezaron a llegar de que la chica había dado la luz a un demonio o monstruo con cabeza de caballo o cola de león o patas de cabra, o semejante ridiculez.  Las gentes del pueblo no creían los rumores pero tampoco querían hablar mucho del asunto, ya que el médico había sido un hombre muy respetado.  La famila del médico también dejó su nuevo pueblo y nadie dio con ellos en todo el país.  Simplemente desaparecieron.

El leñador se quedó en el pueblo con su caballo magnífico, pero no asistió a ningún festival después de aquél con la hija del médico.  Dejó sus relaciones sociales, solo hacía su trabajo.  El caballo seguió trabajando anõs después como el primer día que apareció sin perder nada de su fuerza y vigor.  El leñador envejecía, aparecieron canas en su cabello y arrugas en su cara.  Siempre rechazó ofertas de ayuda por parte de los jovenes del pueblo, y misteriosamente nadie más lograba vivir del bosque como él.  No perdía clientes, más bien los ganaba al ritmo que crecía el pueblo y se constrían más casas.  Claro que varios emprendedores lo intentaron, pero sufrieron accidentes, no lograron encontrar buena madera, o enfermaron en seguida.  En otros pueblos se decía que el leñador era brujo y el caballo era su familiar, pero nadie en su pueblo hacía caso de tal estupidez.  Un día no llegó con la entrega como siempre y un par de chicos fueron a sus casa para ver si estaba bien.  Lo encontraron en su cama, pálido, frío, y muerto sin lugar a dudas.  Buscaron el caballo y encontraron huellas saliendo del establo en dirección al bosque pero que desaparecían antes de llegar.  Después de la muerte del leñador, el pueblo empezó a pasar frío.  Nadie podía encontrar leña como él había hecho, y entregarla incluso en medio del gélido invierno, ni siquiera tres leñadores lograron abastecer a los clientes.  Poco a poco, la gente se iba mudando a otras partes y el pueblo iba disminuyendo, y al final no quedó nada más que unas casas casi en ruinas y gatos y perros salvajes.

Los viajeros evitaron las ruinas diciendo ver sombras de un caballo enorme con un hombre fuerte a sus espaldas, y lo que parecía una anciana que aplaudía y se reía con el sonido del viento en las hojas secas.

a tale of remembering

Who hides in the wood, little children?  Tell me, that I know you know the danger.  He who plots, who spies, and moans.  Oh yes, that he, little children.  He who would steal you from your mothers' hearths and drag you to his own, dark and cold it is.  He seeks to warm himself with you, little children, with the fire of your lives.  Yet he is not warmed by any stolen flame, as nothing stolen can warm anyone's heart.  Learn your lesson from him, children, only what you earn can stoke your soul's fire.  He who earns nothing is forever cold and empty.  He who hides seeks forever to fill himself, and this is why you must be 'ware in the wood.  Long has it been since he had some little one to give to his hunger, long has it been since children of this village went astray.  And so, his hunger must grow.  Take more care than ever.

You there, yes.  In the back.  Near the window.  Do you laugh at my fair warning?  Do you take me for a mere teller of tales?  Do not be so smug, young one, do not think we give warning for fun.  Here, I will tell you a new tale.  I have kept it safe within me for many years.  But I see it needs telling now.

It happened one day when the sun was a bright one and all the leaves were a blessing.  Three children much like you went into the wood seeking relief.  They did not mean to stray far from its borders, but in those days the hunger of he who hides was lesser and the shadows brighter.  The children went deep, deep among the old, old trees before they knew it.  When they saw the trunks were mossy like they'd never seen before, and the leaves were thin and sharp, not like their familiar broad platters, they did not fear.  They were brave children of the village, the last one on the road to the border of the Land of Smoke.  Little in this world can make us tremble.  They did not think the journey back would be hard to make, and if they arrived after nightfall, so much the better.  They had taken shelter in the shade of these trees for the very purpose of escaping the sun.  They listened hard for water and then the tallest said, "I hear a stream, over this way!" and they tramped through the ferns and vines to find the cool water.  It was there, flowing over smooth, blue rocks, looking deeper than it was without the sun to glimmer on its surface.  The children wet their toes and each others' shirts, shouting and laughing as they would on any summer's day in any place.

But soon they were hungry, as children in summer often are.  Their thirst they could slake in the stream in icy mouthfuls, but there were no berry bushes growing nearby.  They did not know the plants around them and were not trusting to taste their leaves or roots.  The first bite of fear came to their throats.  The children tried to walk back the way they had come, but all the trees were the same soft, green trunks, and all the ferns were the same clownish feathers, and all the vines made the same loops like snares on the ground to catch them.

The children wandered, growing frightened, and soon the ruddiest said, "We shouldn't have gone to the stream, we should have gone home right away!  I bet I could have found the way out from where we were."  The tallest child did not care to take the blame.  The fairest child said nothing to or for the other two as they argued.  They kept walking, even as they shouted, but they saw no sign of familiar trees.  The ferns and vines were lush and green and bent under their feet, making no snaps as they did not break.  A sudden snap behind them halted the children in their tracks.

When they turned, a white deer stood before them.  She was a young doe, as they knew from her small, nubby antlers.  She stared and they stared and nobody would move for minutes, but then she stepped to her left, eyes on the children, and she crept passed to go on her way.  The children followed her, still making no noise and neither did the doe.  Except when some dry vine snapped under her tiny hooves.  Then she shook her head in frustration, but kept on, and the children behind her.

Finally, a dark mound appeared amid the trees.  It was like a round hill with no trees growing on it, covered with short grass or thick moss.  The doe trotted right up to it, bounded up the side and over the top, and was gone.  The children stood before the mound awhile, wondering if they should go closer.  Finally the fairest one approached with halting steps, calling back to the others when the distance was closed, "Why, there's a cave in the hill!"  The other two came to the entrance to peer inside.  They saw that under the moss, there was no hill at all, but a pile of stone slabs.  They stood looking and did not go in.  They did not remember the warnings their elders told them at the hearth, but they felt the danger all the same.

"I wouldn't go in if I were you," and the children whirled around as one.  "That place is so old it could fall in any time."  A little old man covered in shaggy dark rags was speaking to them. "We were just looking, Old Uncle," said the ruddiest, "We were not thinking of exploring."  "That's good, eh, that's good," the little man grunted and turned and hobbled off.  After a moment he called over his shoulder, "What are you waiting for?  'Twill soon be dark as a dead deer's bottom out here."  And the children followed him without another thought.

The wood was in fact darkening and the leaves of the ferns stood out like shadowy spears.  The little man lead the children to a small clearing where the earth was bare.  He sat with his back to one great tree and with his hand invited the children to sit before him.  "I am going to tell you a tale," he said, as he pulled a sack of bread heels from amid his rags.  The children were happy for the bread, even if it was dry, and they were prepared to listen.  "I am not the man you see here," his voice rang out clearly, "I have taken this form to escape a terrible fate.  I am a magician, a real one, you can believe it.  But our needs of life come with a price, so too my magic."  He looked at the ground and sighed, "I have been lucky thus far, and my benefactor, or malefactor, has not thought to seek me here."  The ruddier child piped up, "My uncle says the trees are magic too.  Maybe they are protecting you."  The old man looked up at the branches, almost impossible to see in the darkening.  "That may be, child, but if it is so, they may have their own purposes for it."  It was now dark.  The old man pulled a round glass from his rags and laid it carefully in the dirt.  He snapped his fingers on both hands and light fairly exploded from the object, leaving the old man and the children in a little circle like daylight.  The three children clapped and cried, "It is real magic!"  Although bare dirt, the ground was comfortable enough for sitting, and the little group amused each other with jokes and tales and so on into the night.  It was like a friendly game for the children, one they sometimes played at when they stayed out with other friends in more familiar woods, imagining themselves traders or hunters.  They had no fear and they fell asleep.

Until the moment came that they awoke.  At first it seemed that nothing had changed; the wood was dark and the glass was bright and the old man was still sitting in front of the tree, but now his expression was grave and stony.  "How do you manage it, Math?" a voice rolled out from behind them, "Wherever you go, the little ones find you.  This is not a trick I taught you.  The Red One perhaps?  Or cuddly old Drusa?"  The old man sighed with impatience.  "Nothing can be chance with you, can it?"  "Not with me nor with any.  There is always a choice made and a path taken."  The old man looked away with a snort of disgust.  Rustling was heard from the dark and from the left, as the children looked at the man, a bright eye appeared among the trees.  Long teeth glowed faintly underneath it, but reflecting the glass's light while the eye shown of its own power.  "Well, little children.  I am pleased to meet you.  I trust you have heard of me, your dear old Uncle Vulk.  If you have come all this way, you must have a great wish for adventure.  Nobody adventures like I do, the magician will tell you," and the wolf began to step into the circle of light.  As he did, his gray fur rippled and fizzled.  His yellow eyes flamed red and orange as he blinked.  His teeth grew and shrunk and the spittle dripping from his long, red tongue hissed into steam.  "It's a good trick, Math,' he rasped, "but not good enough."  "I know," said the old man quietly.  He stood up and brushed himself off, rags and white hair falling away to show a slender man in old-fashioned but well-kept clothes.  His hair lay neatly on his head like a dark gray rug.  "Run away, children," he said calmly, "Trust in the trees."  The wolf barked with laughter and the children ran into the dark.  Soon each one was alone and racing through ferns grown prickly in the night.

The ruddiest child ran out of the trees and into the familiar lands around the village, and the morning light was relieved.  Three families waited by the main road under the sun.  One left with joy that morning; two left with tears under the moon.

He who hides in the woods may take the tall, the easier for him to jump upon.  He may take the fast, the more fun for his games.  The red-faced may be safe for a time, too untidy for his taste.  But once you have looked into his burning eyes your soul burns too and calls him.  Someday, little children, I may go back to the wood.  I may go to meet Uncle and my old friends, and we will be off all together and always.

preparation 2

Once there was a man who lived in little village.  He and his family were very poor, so one day when a storm took the roof off their shack, he could only go to the altar by the road to pray for help.  The altar was for St. John Nepomuk, so naturally that's who he prayed to, but the saint did not appear.  Instead, a dove appeared.  "I can help you, poor man," it said, "But later you have to help me."  The man agreed, thinking that a dove couldn't ask for very complicated help.  "Good," said the dove, "Now go home.  In the garden you will find tools and material to fix your roof.  When your roof is fixed, offer to help your neighbors.  When nobody needs more help, return here and hear my request."

The man went home, as the dove told him, and found the tools and material.  He and his sons fixed their roof and then went to the neighbors to offer help to them.  Once all was complete, the man went back to the altar and saw the dove sitting on top of it.  "Now hear my request: your youngest son will marry my oldest daughter."

The man worried about what his son would say, but he brought him to the altar.  When they arrived, a beautiful young woman stepped out from behind it.  The young people fell in love immediately and were happy to marry.  After the wedding, they went away to a cabin in the woods for a year and a day.  A problem arose the very first night.  When the sun went down, the new wife turned into a crow, and flew out the window.  When the sun rose, the crow returned to the cabin and was a woman again.  This happened every night.  After the year and the day had passed, they returned to the poor man's home, and the son told his father of his trouble.  The young woman started to cry and said, "Everything your son says is true.  My family is cursed and I am the only one who is even sometimes human.  Will you help us, father-in-law?"  The poor man had no idea how to help, but he wanted his son to be happy, so he agreed.

He went back to the altar to pray, and this time neither the saint nor the dove appeared.  Instead, he heard a voice that said, "I can help."  The voice came from the bottom of a nearby well.

"You can break the curse?"

"Oh yes, it's no problem.  I know how it started.  Your daughter-in-law's great-grandmother offended an air spirit, who then cursed the whole family.  I can remove it, but I need to be surrounded by trees."

"Wait a moment, and I'll find a ladder or a rope."  The man was very happy to have a simple problem.

"No, no," said the voice, "I can only escape with a living thing.  You must find a magic vine that will grow from the water."

The man sighed.  Nothing was easy.

The man and his son set off the next morning.  They went all around the village doing chores and asking about the vine, but nobody knew anything about it.  Then they went to the city with the same idea and had the same luck.  In the evening, sad, they started home.  They had just left the city when suddenly, a man on the road called to them: "Hello, hello!  Good sirs!"

"What is it, chapman?" They could see by his cart of wares he was a chapman. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes there is, my good...carpenter?"  The chapman was looking at the toolbox, "My horse has thrown a shoe.  I simply cannot travel without a horse." He pointed to the heavily loaded cart.  The poor man opened the box and found a hammer and nails, although he did not remember seeing them there before.  He managed to fix the shoe, at least for a while, and the chapman said to him, "Thanks, good sir, many thanks!  I carry no great luxuries, but perhaps your lady wife or daughter would like this cotton cloth?  The dye is guaranteed not to fade."

"You are most generous, good chapman," said the poor man, "and my wife would certainly like this cloth, but what we need now is information, not goods.  You wouldn't happen to know where we could find a magic vine that grows in water, would you?"

"Coincidentally, just this afternoon I made a delivery to the giant of the Black Castle.  In spite of his fearsome reputation, he is an excellent gardener, and uses my cloth to protect his young plants.  He will have the vine you want, or know where to find it."

The son was overjoyed.  "Father!  We can go to the castle now and speak to the giant this evening!  What luck!"  The man was not happy, since he was afraid of the giant, but he wanted to help his son, so they went.  Night had fallen when they arrived and the black gate towered dark above their heads.  The man lifted the knocker and let it fall.  Immediately, a voice shouted: "Go away!  I don't know anything about any maidens!  And I don't want any encyclopedias!"

"But good giant," said the man in a trembling voice, "we just want to ask you about a magic vine that grows in water.  The chapman said you could help us."  The gate swung open and the giant stood there before them.  He was ugly, with black eyes and dirty clothes.

"Come right in!" he roared, "Somebody interested in gardening!  Fantastic!"  And the poor man and his son entered the giant's garden.  They sat in a small patio and the giant brought them large mugs of mead.  The three drank together and the man and his son explained what had happened to them and what they needed to do.  The giant listened and nodded.  When they finished the tale, he said, "It just so happens that I have some seeds right now.  I've been working on them for a couple of months.  Maybe that plant is what you need.  But..." and the giant stopped.

"But what?" cried the man.

"That plant is valuable, you know, I can't just give away my seeds."

"Perhaps, this cloth..." the man began, uncertainly.  The giant laughed loudly at him.

"The chapman already brought me cloth.  Maybe you have a daughter?"

All the way home, the man worried that none of his daughters would agree to marry the giant and he would never get the magic vine.  The poor man had ten children, five sons and five daughters.  The oldest daughter was tall and a little heavy, with small black eyes and hair that always looked unwashed.  But she was also clever, with more common sense than her brothers and sisters together.  She knew this was her best opportunity to marry.  "What woman wouldn't be happy with a garden full of flowers?" she said.

The very next day the poor man, his son and his daughter went to the castle.  Now the man worried that the giant would reject his daughter, and be angry.  They arrived at the castle, knocked at the gate, and the giant opened it.  For a moment, the giant and the man's daughter stared at each other, then the daughter said loudly, "Father!  You didn't tell me my new husband was so handsome!"

The giant roared with laughter and said, "Little man, I've always wanted an intelligent wife!  Looks like a breeder, too.  Do you like children, m'dear?"

"Of course.  My mother had ten."

"Perfect!  We can start right away!"  And daughter and giant strode off towards the castle, arm in arm.

"Good gardener giant..."

"Yes?  You need something, father-in-law?"

"Er...the seeds..."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course, of course," and the giant dug around in his pockets and pulled out a handful of seeds.  He examined them carefully and chose one large, golden one.  "Here.  This seed should serve your needs.  And come visit soon!  With the wife!  She'll want to see the grandkids!"

Then they all said goodbye, and the man and son went back home.  "My god," thought the man to himself, "A giant for a son-in-law, a crow for a daughter-in-law, who would have foreseen it?"

Once home, the man went to the well and tossed in the seed.  He saw a glow in the bottom and the voice said, "It's working!  Now we must wait about half an hour for the vine to reach the top."  The man went for his son and his son's wife, and the three of them were waiting when the owner of the voice climbed out of the well.  They couldn't tell if it was man or woman.  It had long hair that covered it like a cloak and was tall and slender.  It saw their confusion and smiled, "I am a nymph.  Seventy years ago, a young man fell in love with me, but not I with him.  He got angry and threw me in the well."

"Oh dear," mumbled the poor man, "I think that man was my grandfather.  He told us the story of the fairy many times, but I never really believed him."

"Don't worry," said the nymph, "Seventy years is nothing much for an immortal.  Besides, your grandfather wasn't a bad man.  He was sorry he'd done it, but he never knew where to find the vine."

"Can you break my curse now?" asked the young wife.

"It's already broken," answered the nymph as it disappeared among the trees.  And indeed, just then a man wearing gold and purple robes and silk slippers approached them.

"Father!" screamed the young woman and she ran towards him.

"Yes, daughter, we are free," said the man, and they hugged tightly.  "Now, dear man, the time has come for me to thank you.  I am a rich and powerful raj from the East, and I assure you my thanks will be generous."

"I wasn't hoping for a reward, I just wanted to help."

The raj stared hard at the poor man.  "I have a lot of money and a lot of pride.  I will not accept that you do not accept my reward as thanks."

The poor man agreed, and naturally, soon he was no longer poor.  The raj bought him a country house and lands, and gave him money so that his children could do what they wanted.  Some wanted to marry, some wanted to go away to study, and one son opened a shop in the city.  The raj's daughter stayed with her husband in the village, but every year an elephant wearing a jeweled golden cloth came to take her to visit her family in the East, and after a week and a day, she returned.