The king had fallen ill at an early age, and he had no sons. And so his last days were spent in choosing a worthy successor, who would come to marry his only daughter and rule the land with her.
Nearly everyone liked the king's final choice, a young handsome lord who lived at a large and happy estate a hundred miles to the west. He had been raised in a most loving family and educated with the utmost care. Consequently he had a sunny, compassionate nature that seemed to attract people to him instantly. He also had a fine, creative and resourceful mind that appeared to absorb new knowledge with childlike fervor and attack problems with equal gusto. When this was coupled with a deeply ingrained sense of moral conscience, the young lord seemed a perfect leader for the country.
Several of the king's advisors, however, expressed their doubts. The young man had never left his estate, they pointed out. He know nothing of his prospective subjects and little about the difficulties of the country save what he had read in books. Besides, he had never been tested as a warrior, though he had won many jousting tournaments. His family could never bear to send him into battle.
The king was adamant. "A king does not need to be a warrior to inspire his people. Instead, let him spread his love and compassion for the people throughout his land. His brilliant mind will serve him well in laying the plans of battle if need be. And let him be advised by my daughter, who as you know is quite capable of being a fine governor herself. She needs only the support and guidance of a husband, and he will make her a fine one. Let them reign always together, and the land will prosper."
But in deference to his advisors, the king imposed one condition on the young man's claim to the throne. "Let him walk the distance from his estate to the castle, alone. In a hundred miles' walk through the woods, he will likely have to learn to face danger. He can ask for the help of the local peasants and thus come to know his subjects."
And so a group of soldiers was dispatched to bring the news to the lord and his family, and to supply him with the necessary provisions for his journey to the castle. When the lord found that he was destined to become king, he was beside himself. He thought of the beautiful castle he would live in, the joy he would find in the arms of his Queen, and the power that would be his to right the evils of the country and bring happiness and prosperity to others. It saddened him to leave his family, who had given him so much, and walk alone through a treacherous forest to reach his new home. But the new Prince squared his shoulders and tried not to be afraid. It is my destiny to be King, he told himself, and a King can conquer fear. He would prove to his family that their attentions had not been in vain, and they would share in his good fortune.
In this heroic frame of mind the Prince set off into the woods. His was the lightest heart in the land. He was strong and fit, and he had been given ample food for the journey, along with a sword and shield with which to slay dragons. The Prince was not really afraid of dragons. He had never seen one.
On the first day of his journey the Prince encountered no one. He trudged cheerfully through the forest, his head and his heart filled with the glorious promise of what lay ahead. He was a little afraid when the night fell, but he kept himself busy thinking ahead to the next day, when he hoped to meet some peasants who could instruct him in the ways of dragons. He fell asleep with visions of his castle and his Princess reeling in his brain.
The next morning he set off again with not a care in the world. It wasn't long before he encountered a small, cheery group of peasants coming toward him. He decided to introduce himself as their new Prince, and ask for their assistance on his road to the castle.
Just as he was drawing near to the peasants, he felt the ground rumble beneath him and heard a crackling in the trees. Before he could even blink, a huge dragon stepped into his path, blocking his way to the crowd of peasants. The dragon towered over the Prince, fire streaming from its nostrils, its red eyes glaring so malevolently that he could not look into them.
The Prince tried to reach for his sword, but he seemed to have frozen in terror. He could already feel the heat from the dragon's fiery breath on him. He lifted his shield to stave off the flames, but he knew the meager protection wouldn't last long. He had no choice but to run.
Run he did, as he had never run in his life. The dragon lumbered after him for several hundred yards, singing his hair and his back. But the Prince was strong and clever, and through fleetness of foot and artfulness of mind was able to lose the frightful creature.
Wen he was sure the dragon was gone, the Prince rose from the thicket where he had hidden and collected himself. His back smarted a bit and he had lost a little hair, but he would survive. He was quite proud of himself at having outrun and outwitted the beast, even if he hadn't been able to draw his sword. Still, it was a start.
Suddenly he remembered the peasants. Had any of them been hurt? Even now they might be crouching somewhere in terror, or worse. He had to find them.
As he headed back toward the road, the Prince thought of the confidence he would bestow on his people. They would be despondent over the recent passing of their King. He knew they would be overjoyed to meet his successor, and to help him reach his castle safely.
The disheveled Prince reached the road and looked out for any sign of the peasants. To his amazement, they had already passed him by and were continuing along their path, laughing and joking, as if the dragon had never appeared at all!
The Prince crept closer to them in disbelief. Surely they had seen the horrifying beast and been as frightened as he. He must talk with them.
He was almost upon them when a little boy in the crowd turned around and suddenly pointed his finger at the Prince. "Look! There he is!" cried the boy, "the man who ran away from the dragon!"
The entire crowd turned to the Prince and began laughing uproariously. They were a good-natured lot, and the idea of a grown man running from a dragon had struck them as hilarious. After all, every peasant knew that a dragon could never destroy anyone who looked it in the face and didn't run. A dragon, after all, was just as afraid of humans as they were of it, and its scales and fiery tongue were just an elaborate cover for this. It could never stand up to a man who looked it in the eye.
All the peasants knew this as a matter of course. Every one of them learned it as a child, when he went forth, merrily accompanied by his family and sometimes a group of friends, to face his first dragon. Thus all of the local folk walked through the woods without fear. Occasionally one or another of them would get wounded in a surprise attack, but this was normal and the scars healed quickly.
The stunned Prince knew none of this. He only saw a mob of people, far inferior in status to himself, who were laughing at him. He had never been laughed at by anyone, and it cut him to the bone. He knew he needed their help in completing his journey, but his pride would never let him approach them now. He turned and ran back into the forest.
That night, nursing his wounds privately, the Prince reflected on his experience. The vision of the castle seemed far less vivid now. How could he possibly be worthy of the crown? He had run away from a dragon while a group of his lowliest subjects had not even flinched. How was it that they could be unafraid of such an awful thing? How could they laugh at him? How could he possibly face hordes of them every day at his castle, expected to reign over a populace who had no respect for him? He wanted to run back to the safety of his family estate, never to see another dragon or laughing peasant.
Then he remembered his destiny. The king chose me above all others in the state, he thought. I have always been confident in my abilities. I have always stood out among the nobility of my country. I want to bring honor to my family, to do what I was chosen as king to do.
He would continue, but he knew the remainder of his journey had to be traversed alone. He couldn't disgrace himself again and so lose the confidence of his subjects. And so he would avoid the peasants. He would be amicable to those he happened by chance to meet, but he would never reveal his true identity until he had succeeded in slaying a dragon on his own.
As he sat by his fire, sipping a bottle of ale, the Prince felt much stronger in his ideals than ever before, and the enchanted castle, with his Princess waiting inside, loomed large in his dreams that night.
Back at the castle, there was great excitement. The Princess was to be married as soon as her young man arrived from the west, and so the country would become whole and strong again.
The Princess was filled with expectant joy. Finally, her dreams of a happy reign would come true. Her father had chosen a wonderful, intelligent and loving partner for her, and the loneliness and despair that had immobilized her since the King's illness was now lifted.
She prepared the castle for his coming, treating the servants with extra care, that they would take pride in their home and make it a truly special place. She sat for hours conferring with her advisors, gathering what knowledge she could of all matters of state, that she would be a Queen to make her father, her husband and the nation proud. And each night, the Princess prayed for the safe journey of her Prince, for his speedy arrival at his true home. But she wasn't really afraid. She knew that he would slay every dragon to win the prize that was at hand.
On the fourth morning since leaving his home, the Prince finally ventured out on the road again. He had spent two nights hidden in the thicket and drunk two jugs of ale, and had now a considerable amount of bravado. He had practiced slashing with his sword at trees that were approximately the same size as the dragon, and done all sorts of other eminently practical things to prepare for his next encounter. His wounds no longer pained him. He regretted the delay; he'd had to ration a day's food over two days to ensure that he would not go hungry later. But the time had not been spent idly.
It was a sunny day, and the Prince went merrily along, safe with his dreams. He bade a cheery greeting to the several peasants he passed, proud at having overcome his disgrace. It seemed that no dragons lurked anywhere, but he was careful to look about him, and listen for rumblings.
When the dragon appeared, it seemed to strike from out of nowhere. The Prince gaped in disbelief at the creature which now stood in his path, nearly twice the size of the first. He could not bear to look in its eyes, behind which all the evils of the world seemed to lurk. The flames of its breath shot out at him, burning through his clothing.
Trembling, the Prince managed to draw his sword, but with one sweep of its sharp tail the dragon knocked the sword from his hand, cutting a large gash into the Prince's arm.
With a cry of pain he began to run. At first he thought he might outwit the beast again, but weakened by his meager portions of food, the effects of the ale he had drunk, the loss of blood from his arm and his diminished confidence, the Prince could neither run so fast nor think so clearly as he had two days earlier.
The dragon crept closer. Its tail lashed out again at the Prince's legs, knocking him down. In a moment it would be upon him. The Prince turned his head in despair, unable to look into those terrible eyes that were about to devour him.
But when he turned his head the Prince saw, not twenty feet away, an abandoned cabin built of strong timbers and stone. He started in surprise, and hope. With his last ounce of strength, he stood up and ran to the cabin. Lo and behold, the door was open! He staggered inside and lowered its heavy bolt.
The dragon beat at the house for several minutes, rattling the entire structure most frightfully. But it became apparent the house wasn't about to fall down - at least not this time. The dragon gave up and scrambled off into the forest.
When the Prince was sure it was gone, he examined his wounds. The gashes on his arm and legs were bleeding badly, and most of his body had been burned. He knew he needed to bathe and dress his wounds, or he would soon die.
Looking out a window, the Prince saw a small spring just outside the cottage. Though he was terrified to step out the door, he knew he had to brave it, to get to that spring. His hands shook as he opened the door. Then he blacked out.
The Prince awoke in a simple but comfortable bed, with a fire burning close by. His wounds hurt, but they were dressed, and a small horde of coarse but pleasant faces hovered over him.
A kindly-looking woman proffered a cup of soup, which he gratefully accepted. "There now, poor lad," the woman said gently. "Been got by a dragon, has he?"
The Prince turned red with shame. Surely he would be disgraced by all the peasants, now that he had been found out.
But one of the men, the strongest and sturdiest among them, laid a hand on his shoulder. "Now, now, my boy - nothing to be ashamed of. We've all been got by dragons now and again, haven't we?"
The Prince was in luck. They didn't know he had run away. And apparently, being wounded was no disgrace. In fact, the whole lot of them seemed genuinely sympathetic and anxious to help. They asked him his name and, remembering his vow not to reveal his identity, the Prince gave them a suitably common one. They started to ask what had happened to him, and he paled.
The kindly woman came to his rescue. "Now, see what you've done! You've upset the boy when he's hurting! He can tell us all about himself when he gets better."
The Prince breathed a sigh of relief, and immediately fell back to sleep.
For a number of days the Prince stayed on at the peasant family's cottage, enjoying their attentions. They reminded him of his family back home - though of course, they didn't know who he really was. Whenever he was pried about his place of origin, or the incident with the dragon, he feigned feeling too weak to talk. The difference between them and his real family then became painfully obvious - but he needed their help and he craved their attention, so he lapped it up. Had he revealed himself as their lost Prince, they would have rejoiced in accompanying him to the castle, and in helping him face the dragons. In return, he might have opened the castle door on their arrival, and let his subjects share in his joy and his riches. But his fear and shame were too great. Besides, he didn't feel much like a Prince at the moment anyway. And so instead he stayed on at the mean cottage of a family of the very subjects who needed his help most, depleting their meager provisions, and entertaining them with the sunny smile and the clever wit he had gleaned from his sheltered upbringing, in order to earn some poor crumbs of the love and acceptance that he had unwittingly shut out.
The Princess had begun to worry. Her Prince had not arrived yet, and she wondered now if he had fallen on some misfortune during his journey. She knew the woods were full of dragons and wondered if, perhaps, he didn't possess enough knowledge of dragons to defeat them.
The Princess herself, being popular among the soldiers and noblemen, had travelled much with them and knew something of the ways of the world. She had spent a great deal of time, also, talking with the peasants. Through them she had learned that a dragon could easily be defeated once it was looked in the eye. The Princess knew this, although she had never looked in a dragon's eye herself. She had, however, seen soldiers do it on many of their forays into the woods.
Among those who comforted the Princess during this trying time was a very brave and handsome Prince who was heir to a state even larger than her own. This visiting Prince was renowned as a great warrior and leader who dwelt in a fabulous castle, and his strength heartened the despairing Princess.
"If he does not arrive soon," said the Visiting Prince one day, "I will take you away to my own castle, and make you Queen of all my land as well as yours."
The Princess smiled and shook her head. "You are very gracious, and I know you would be good to me, but I know nothing of your land and could never make a fitting Queen there. And I would always know that you were not my own dear Prince that my father chose for me, the one who was destined for me. I can't desert him when he most needs me."
One of her noble friends muttered under his breath, "The man is obviously a coward."
The Princess raged at him. "He is not a coward! He simply doesn't know the ways of dragons, which I daresay you yourself don't know either! And if only I could get to him now, I would go to him with a whole battalion of soldiers, and we would face the dragons together!"
The Prince had grown quite comfortable in the home of the peasants who had rescued him. Among them he was special, with his natural warmth and grace. One of the neighboring peasant girls was particularly fond of him (though they all were), and she and her father had paid him a visit. If he were to take the girl's hand in marriage and settle here, he could have a job at the mill where her father worked. Everyone liked him so much that they had quite forgotten they really didn't know who he was or anything about him.
In fact, the Prince himself had almost forgotten who he was. The offer of marriage suddenly made him remember. His wounds were nearly healed, and he would not be able to avoid the question of his background, or the dragon he had run from, much longer. He was plagued with guilt at his deception, and at the provisions he had consumed without compensation. He considered marrying the peasant girl and taking the job that was offered. At least he could pay back the family who had been so generous and kind.
But the prospect of working at a mill, and concealing his identity, for the rest of his life loomed like a dragon before him. He had to get away from this place. He was, after all, really not a peasant. He had a duty to fulfill. What would his family think? They would be worried about him by now. And what about the Princess who waited for him?
What to do? He still hadn't recovered enough to face the dragons again. But he had to go someplace where he could rest and lay his plans alone. He couldn't live with his guilt any longer, or risk anyone discovering his identity or his cowardice.
Then he thought of the little cabin, the place where he had hidden from the dragon. He would go there.
The Prince stole out of the family cottage in the middle of the night. When he was King, he vowed, he would give them a fine house and all the provisions they would ever need. He didn't say goodbye to the girl who had wanted to marry him. He rather resented her for trying to press him into staying where he didn't belong.
And so the Prince made his escape to the cabin. To his surprise, no dragons came near. He was quite proud of himself for having traversed the distance alone.
When he examined the cabin, the Prince was appalled. It was certainly not a fitting place for a Prince. At least he could clean up the place if he was going to stay there.
For the next few nights, as he rested after a day of housekeeping, the Prince pondered his situation. He was lonely and his supplies were running very low. For awhile he dreamed of ruling his kingdom again, and wished his Princess were by his side. If only he could, perhaps through one of the peasants, get a message to her, perhaps she would take pity on him and send a battalion of soldiers to rescue him. But why would she want him now? He had failed to prove himself worthy of the crown, and she would think him a coward and cast him aside. No, he must complete this journey, and learn to slay the dragons somehow, alone.
Even as he thought about it, a dragon began to beat wildly at the house. A window had already been broken the night before, and the walls shook as if they were about to break.
The terrified Prince sat as still as possible as he sipped at one of the last of his jugs of ale. Only when the jug was almost empty did the dragon go away for the night.
The castle had fallen into utter despair. The Princess had begun to give up hope.
"Maybe he doesn't really want me," she cried one day to the Visiting Prince. "Surely a man of his talents and abilities would have been able to get through the forest by now. Perhaps he just doesn't think me a proper Queen."
"Not want you? Not want the Crown?" The Visiting Prince laughed. "He would be a fool!"
But the Princess no longer felt like a proper ruler. Her despair had spread through the land. The castle had been neglected and was falling into ruin. The affairs of the state
had been neglected as well, and the people suffered.
Again the Visiting Prince offered to help, to take the Princess away to his own castle, and to restore her land with the vast funds available to his own state. The Princess hesitated. It would be so easy to say yes to him. Here was a strong man who could take care of her. If she married him, she could restore prosperity to her people, even though she would live in a foreign state and not be so near to them.
In the end the Princess declined once more. Though she admitted, this time, that she wasn't sure why anymore.
The Prince had thoroughly scrubbed the cabin and it looked a little better. But it had become obvious that the little house would not withstand the dragons forever. If he was to stay any longer (and he had to, in order to find a way to get more provisions), he would need to strengthen his fortress.
So, although he was growing weak from lack of ample food, the Prince set about devising ingenious ways of making the house dragon-proof. Using the stone and timber from the land, he built up the walls so they were three times as thick. He also put up a high stone wall around the house. He found he had quite an exceptional talent for doing this sort of work (he was, as we know, an exceptionally talented fellow to begin with), and the house was soon not only strong, but rather attractive. In fact, it was attractive enough and unusual enough to catch the eye of any peasant who passed it on a hunt.
By this time, a considerable amount of time and effort had been expended by the Prince-turned-housebuilder. The passing peasants noticed him tiring, and grew concerned about this obviously resourceful and industrious young man. So they began to drop by the house often with loaves of bread, haunches of meat, and jugs of ale from their larders. Remembering his previous guilt at accepting such gifts, the Prince tried to refuse their offerings.
"But you are starving, friend and neighbor," the peasants told him. "and we are happy to help a man who not only takes pride in his work, but is so modest and retiring about it. We are proud to be your neighbors. Please, take our gifts and let them sustain you in your work."
So, since he really was starving and the giving of gifts seemed to please the peasants so much, the Prince accepted the food. One of the men made him a fine wooden table for his amazing house, and a woman made him a hooked rug. In turn, he would occasionally invite them inside to share a jug of ale, though remembering his past mistake, he never allowed himself to get too close to any of them. He was beginning to enjoy the respect he commanded among the peasants. What if they found out he was afraid of dragons? Worse yet, what if they ever found out he was a Prince who had failed in his duty? That would never do.
In spite of his best efforts, the Prince's neighbors were beginning to notice his peculiarities. Although the young man possessed great social grace and was loved by everyone, he seemed to have no close friends. Though his talents were many, he never used them for anything but building bigger and better walls around his house. He always seemed to be hard at work at this endless project, yet he never had a job working for anyone else. Consequently he never paid for his round of ale or went to his neighbors' houses with bread as they did for him. In fact, it seemed difficult if not impossible to drag him from his house at all. He was always too busy, or too tired from his work, or his neighbor's house was too far to walk and he had no money to buy a horse.
Some of his neighbors began to resent him for this. They stopped bringing him gifts, and whispered among themselves that he was a sponger who didn't pull his weight. But most of them found the Prince so likable, so filled with such obvious talent and potential, that they accepted his excuses. Besides, they reasoned, he causes less trouble than anyone in the neighborhood. He never dallies with the maidens or argues with the merchants over the price of a bushel of apples. He became known as a man of high principles.
This sham might have continued for some time, if it were not for the Prince's deep and genuine sense of conscience which the previous king had so admired. He had not failed to feel the imbalance in his relationship to his neighbors. He didn't want to depend on them, but it couldn't be helped. The Prince fell into a deep depression.
One of the wiser neighbors, an excellent hunter who was more observant than most, noticed the young man's despondence. He seemed unable to even continue his home improvement project. It occurred to the hunter that his friend might feel stronger if he were able to make his own livelihood.
Visiting the Prince at his house one day (which was getting increasingly difficult, what with all the fantastic variations of walls all around it), the hunter said, "My friend, have you ever tried to hunt?"
The Prince gulped. "Hunt?" He had hunted many times on his estate, and won many trophies. It suddenly seemed like a long time ago. It had never occurred to him to hunt for a living. But he knew he was a good hunter. So he said to his friend, "Yes. I can hunt."
"Well then, why not go hunting with me tomorrow?"
Reluctantly, the Prince agreed, though he wasn't sure why he was so reluctant. He needed to earn a living; here was a perfect opportunity. Vaguely he remembered that there would be dragons in the forest, and he supposed this was why he had balked. But it had been a long time since he'd seen a dragon, thanks to his wonderful fortress. He'd sort of forgotten he was afraid of them. Besides, the hunter would accompany him, and the hunter probably slew dragons every day. He would go.
Thus the Prince and his neighbor began to hunt every day. Everyone was as impressed with the Prince's hunting prowess as they had been with all his other skills, and he was no longer a burden to the neighborhood. He enjoyed the camaraderie of his hunting partner, and the partner was just as glad of such engaging company. Furthermore, the Prince noticed after some time that they never encountered a single dragon. He decided to casually ask his friend about this.
"Say," ventured the Prince, offhandedly. "Not much of a dragon population this year, is there?"
"Oh, dragons?" The hunter replied with the good-natured bluster common to his sort. "They all know me. I've sent them all packing. One glance from me, my lad, and a dragon runs off with its tail between its legs."
He laughed, and the Prince laughed too, appreciating the joke but a bit disappointed that he hadn't gotten any real answers.
At least he thought he hadn't. The following day, the pair were out on their hunt when the biggest dragon the Prince had ever seen jumped into their path. The Prince swallowed his fear. He knew his friend would slay the dragon, and now he would get to see how it was done.
Watching closely, the Prince saw the hunter shoot a casual glance at the awful beast. And that was the end of it. The dragon disappeared into the forest.
The Prince was mortified. His friend hadn't been joking! He really had slain so many dragons that they ran from the sight of him! The realization began to creep into his bones that he would never be worthy of the Crown, or the Princess. He was miles behind even the poorest of his subjects. Why, he was not even worthy of being among the peasants. He had been nothing but a burden to them. Certainly he felt ashamed to even be in the presence of his wondrous friend, the hunter.
The Prince became surly. He continued to hunt, but alone. He still never shared his meat with his neighbors, since he never had time to visit what with hunting all day on foot. When he didn't have to hunt, he complained that he never had time to work on his house anymore, and apologetically declined all but the occasional social invitation. Once again, everyone respected his industriousness and left him to it - all but the hunter, whose heart had been touched by the noble-spirited young man and who had appreciated him as a hunter whose skills challenged his own. The hunter missed his companion terribly, but he failed to understand what had caused their friendship to be severed. Perhaps he had said or done something wrong, but even he with his considerable wisdom couldn't put a finger on it. Eventually he returned to his old ways, relying on the comfort of his family and taking pride in sharing meat with his friends. But it was a long time before the pain of his loss went away.
The Prince, meanwhile, still kept very busily occupied with his hunting. But there came the inevitable day when, scouting the horizon for game, he spotted a dragon. It wasn't very close to him, but it was definitely a dragon. He wondered, with his finely honed marksmanship, if he might be able to shoot it. Then he realized a mere arrow could never penetrate those scales. The dragon was coming closer. The Prince began to sweat. He felt acutely alone, but he had thrown off all his sources of guidance. He remembered the pain when the dragon's tail had cut into him. There was nowhere to hide in the open field. He remembered the burden he had placed on the poor peasant family while he recovered from his wounds. No, he couldn't do that again. He couldn't even risk it, not for some selfish yearning for a dream he would probably never realize.
He fled back to his fortress.
The Prince was at a crossroads. He knew he couldn't hunt anymore, but he did not want to be dependent on his neighbors again. In the sanctuary of his house, he contemplated his next move. As he sipped his ale, a vision of a faraway castle came to him, with an army of soldiers to slay all the dragons and a Princess inside, waiting to reassure him, the only one who understood him and knew who he really was. But that all seemed rather vague and unreal now, and not really so desirable, after all. He did not look or act much like a Prince anymore, and even if the Princess ever saw him, she would never marry him now. No matter. He really didn't want her either. She would probably nag him incessantly about important matters of state, and those were just too much trouble. He had enough trouble just keeping food on his table and maintaining his fortress, which wasn't exactly a castle but was certainly safe and attractive. A man deserved, after all, to sit down and have a pint of ale and relax after his work. How could anyone worry about important things like that? He couldn't even slay a single dragon.
Suddenly the idea struck him. He would learn a trade! That way, he would be assured of a solid place in his community. He wouldn't need the Princess or anyone else, and he wouldn't have to face any dragons. Yes, this was an excellent plan.
Of course, the Prince being such a talented fellow, and so well-liked, it wasn't long before he had established himself as a first-rate carpenter. Long admired for the work he had done on his house, he now built wonderful furniture for the villagers. Everyone wanted his pieces and paid him well for them. He was able to repay the neighbors who had supported him many times over.
Best of all, he no longer had to leave his fortress. He worked at his home now, and he all but forgot the existence of dragons. A dim remembrance of fear gripped him now and then, but he couldn't remember what it was he'd been afraid of. At least he knew it couldn't get into his house, whatever it was. So he didn't leave too often, though he would now visit with neighbors on occasion. It was important to him to keep busy. If one of the neighbors got too close, however, he backed off. There was something that he must not ever let them find out about him. After awhile he couldn't remember what it was, but he know it was something awful or he wouldn't have taken such pains to protect himself.
He enjoyed reading fairy tales and books about castles and kings, and could always be counted on to be informed in matters of state. Eventually he even built a model of a fairy castle at his home in his spare time, which everyone admired for its realism. In time, the Prince married one of the local girls, since everyone including himself had begun to wonder why such a popular and prosperous man was still single. Not that he didn't love his wife. She said he reminded her of a character in one of his fairy tales.
And so the Prince was happy in his new life. There was always enough work, enough play and enough ale to go around. And of course, there was always his ever-growing fortress. He had become a real peasant now, and a respected one at that. Thus he forgot, as he crept into bed at night beside his wife, that he was a failed Prince, sleeping alone with his secret, in a mean abandoned cabin in the middle of a dark forest full of dragons.
The Princess had become a shadow of her former self. She never laughed much or went on daring expeditions with the soldiers. The affairs of the state were too much for her to bear. More and more, she left them to her advisors, who were nearly as despairing as herself. The castle was a shambles, with its walls and furnishings sorely in need of repair.
Now more than ever, the Princess know she had failed as a ruler. Her people were suffering, and she knew that even if the Prince were to turn up now, he would not want her. Her heart was filled with pain and remorse.
Those of her friends and aides who had known her in better times remained loyal to her, even as their own hopes dwindled. They had not forgotten the confidence she had given them in the past. Her old friend the Visiting Prince still visited often. Noble fellow that he was, he had not married, and he still held out hope for the Princess and her country.
At last, the Princess decided to accept her friend's long-standing offer. The Visiting Prince was not her destiny, but he would be a strong partner and the land would become whole again. That accounted for a lot, since the state needed repair now and not at some future time that would likely never come. The Visiting Prince was a good man who had proven his loyalty to her and his desire to give. Besides, the affairs of his own country were in neglect, due to his frequent forays to visit the Princess.
The Princess had one last thing to do before she could accept her new life. She called her best general to her.
"We must rally the armies one last time," she told him. "We must go and search for the Prince."
"But we have been searching all this time, my lady, without finding a clue."
"Yes. But he may not be what he seems, and I think I would know my destiny if I myself were to look in his face. I will accompany the soldiers this time."
The Princess spoke in a whisper, for she was afraid. She admitted to herself that she'd been afraid for some time, which was the reason she had not gone out with the soldiers before. Suppose they found him dead? Suppose they found him alive, and he rejected her? Yet somehow, the Princess still carried a vision of her Prince, lost and alone, and still terrified of the dragons he had never learned to slay. If she could only reach him, and let him know about the dragons, and reassure him with her yet enduring love, perhaps all could be set right. She could never forgive herself if she deserted the Prince without at least trying one last time.
So the soldiers went out with great enthusiasm, following behind their spirited leader as they had in days of old. The Princess rode proudly at the front, seeming to know exactly which way to go. Several times a dragon appeared in the path of the army, and the Princess would look it in the eye and chop its head off as if she had slain a hundred of them. This surprised even her, since she had never faced a single one before. The army cheered. There was hope.
They came in time to a small peasant village deep in the forest, where they asked, as usual, if any strangers had passed through.
Flattered that their own Princess had come to their little village, the peasants all racked their brains. Not many strangers came to this remote area, but they remembered a few and described them. The Princess shook her head. None of them would be her Prince.
But one young woman stepped forward now. "Do you recall," she said to the villagers, "the young man we once rescued, a long time ago, who had been got by a dragon?"
Immediately the others chimed in. "Of course! Such a handsome boy. Everyone loved him although he was hurting. We knew he was special. We pampered him as if he were a prince, and he took to our attentions as if he had been born to them!"
The Princess' heart leaped as she explained to the peasants that this might, indeed, have been their Prince. Naturally a great hubbub ensued.
"But what happened to him?" the Princess pressed on.
Everyone shrugged their shoulders. "No one knows. He disappeared one night without a trace." To avoid embarrassing the young woman, no one mentioned her offer of marriage.
"You've no idea where he might have gone?"
"Well," said the man of the family who had rescued the Prince, "we can take you to where we found him."
On the journey to the cabin where the wounded Prince had been found, the Princess conferred with her general and the Visiting Prince. For the first time, it had occurred to them that the Prince might have been kidnapped. Originally this had been ruled out, since no demands for ransom had been forthcoming. But perhaps the deed had been done by traitors who wanted to bring about the fall of the state.
The peasants soon announced that they were nearing the cabin. As it came into view, everyone gasped in astonishment.
The cabin was no longer a cabin at all, but a huge labyrinth of stone walls that sprawled across the countryside and seemed to reach the sky. It was a fortress such as none of them had ever seen. To even spot a door or a window seemed impossible.
The Princess' heart sank for the final time. She knew for certain now that her Prince was being held prisoner in this vast catacomb. But her entire army could never gain entrance to it.
The generals were game to try and devise a plan, but the Princess shook her head. She could not ask her army to lay down their lives in such a fruitless endeavor. She would sooner slay a thousand dragons than look into this, the impenetrable face of her own destiny.
"You are at your ease," she said to the soldiers. "We have done all we can do, and we can take comfort in that." Then the Princess ran into the arms of the Visiting Prince. "Please," she cried, "take me away from this place."
Unexpectedly thrown out of employment, many of the Princess' young officers and infantry dispersed into the nearby pubs for a pint of ale to soothe their heartache. Naturally the local folk wondered at the presence of the Royal Army in their peaceful borough.
A young lieutenant decided to answer the peasants' stares. "We have been investigating the unusual fortress on the other side of the hill. Do you know it?"
"Sure, we know it," the men chuckled. "Our carpenter built it himself."
"Your carpenter?" the lieutenant prodded. "Was he born around here? Do you know him well?"
"He's not from around here. We went round the hill one day and there he was, already hard at work on that incredible house. We might never have noticed him otherwise. We all know him all right, though nobody really seems close to him. He's a bit peculiar. Still he's a fine fellow. Excellent carpenter. Married one of our girls. Always buys his round - though he might disappear in the middle of it and run home."
"And you've no idea why he built such a fortress?"
The men all shrugged. "All we know is he still adds a bit to it each day. We don't know why. Like we always say, you'd think the Royal Army was after him..." The villagers trailed off as they realized what had been said. A suspicion began to dawn on them. "Is he in some kind of trouble with the law?"
The lieutenant lowered his voice. "It's not a certainty, but the Princess has reason to believe that the lost Prince of our nation is being held prisoner in that house."
The peasants were stunned. It seemed so impossible. And yet they had all noticed how the young man seemed always to be vaguely afraid of something, appearing at their homes only when it would have seemed unkind not to, keeping mostly to himself, attacking his work with a vengeance that seemed more like desperation. And though they all knew and liked him, no one knew much about him. Could he really be a traitor to his country? No one wanted to believe it, but if the soldiers' story were true, then they and their country deserved to know.
"He is a gracious host, and usually welcomes us at his house," the men said. "We will take you to him, so that you may question him."
The peasants led the soldiers to a remote corner of the fortress, where they knew the door was hidden, and pulled a chain which would ring a great bell in the house.
The carpenter's voice was soon heard. "Who calls?"
"It is only us, your good neighbors."
The carpenter opened the door.
"You have distinguished visitors," his neighbors said. "Soldiers from the Royal Army."
"The Royal Army?" The carpenter looked as if he were about to faint. "Why - what would you be wanting with a lowly peasant such as myself?" He longed to slam the door and bolt it, but it was too late. They were already inside.
The young lieutenant spoke up. "As you are well aware, the heir to our throne has never turned up to claim his crown. Since no one would do such a foolish thing of his own will, we have reason to believe he was kidnapped by traitors. If you are indeed an honest man, you will not mind us searching your premises."
The carpenter was visibly pale. He backed away from the gaping horde. Search the premises? That must never happen. He would sooner admit to his cowardice and reveal himself. Perhaps then, the soldiers would at last escort him to the castle which was, after all, his destiny.
Summoning all his strength, the carpenter blurted: "But - but I AM the lost Prince!"
His wife laughed nervously. "It's a little joke we have. You see, he reads too many fairy tales."
The soldiers and peasants could see the man was panicked. What was he so afraid of? What was he hiding? They were more convinced than ever that their Prince was locked away behind one of those walls.
The carpenter saw their stares, their suspicions, and could bear it no longer. He bolted and fled into one of the darkest catacombs. The crowd ran after him in pursuit.
The carpenter ran through the maze of his fortress, trying to think as he ran of the best way to evade his pursuers. But this particular labyrinth was so dark and elaborate, and he had built it so long ago, that he himself couldn't seem to remember his way through it. The floors were covered with slime, the walls dank and clammy, and the carpenter felt as if he would suffocate.
The soldiers, however, were well trained in navigating dungeons and caverns. Their strong boots gripped the slippery floor and their torches illuminated their passage. It didn't take them long to head off their quarry, and they leaped for him with bows drawn.
And so it was that the would-be King was shot down in his own fortress, the arrow travelling straight and true from the bow of one of his own expert marksmen.
Having dispensed with the carpenter, the soldiers proceeded to search the house for the Prince. To their puzzlement and dismay they could not find a trace of him, and some of the passageways were too dark and narrow for even them to negotiate. Eventually, they gave up and returned to their homes and families. They didn't bother to send word to the Princess of their unsuccessful venture.
The Princess returned to her castle one last time, to gather the belongings she would take to her new home. Her heart was heavy at leaving the crumbling castle, at the thought that she had failed to hold her own empire together. In fact, several of her most loyal servants refused to leave, and insisted on staying on at the castle in spite of its condition. The Princess, touched by their fealty, gave them her blessing. Her last instruction to them was that they should always keep a light burning in the tower, in case her poor lost Prince should ever come home.
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Copyright © 1988 Lee A. Flier lflier@mindspring.com Atlanta, Georgia, U.S.A. |
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