It was a fine morning, with much
jubilation in the hall of the king, when the doors to his keep flew open. The
music stopped and the laughter ceased, and all saw as their knight-errant
shambled into view. Upon his brow did his hair stick, his face caked in blood
and dirt. His arms hung heavy, one holding desperately onto the black blade,
while the other was dragging along the ground the head of the half mad mountain
king. On its face was the visage forever frozen in fear and anger, having been cleft
clean from his body at the neck. Behind the knight did his leg follow, clearly
now crippled by ardent combat. On the knight’s face there was no pride, no
elation at having returned victorious from his trials. He was beaten low,
exhausted beyond measure, only coming to show his lord the prize that he had
been sent to collect.
At this though the king silently fumed. The knight was really more a thorn in his side rather than an honored guest. His pride had seen him fancy his daughter’s hand, and she was promised to the lord of the Lands Beyond the Hills, whose land was wide and full of bounty, an alliance with whom the king could feed his people without want. The king had purposefully sent the knight to the lair of the mountain king with the expectation that it would be his tomb. That the gargantuan demon-born-of-men would devour him whole, and that he would be rid of the threat to the security of his realm. As he watched the victorious knave approach him, the king held up his hand and thought best to show the pomp necessary to appease the common man.
“Hail great hero, I see you hold your black blade proud. In your grip do you hold a grand prize, and lo shall any boon you ask for be yours, provided it is within my powers to give it.”
The knight had tried to bow but was unable to hold himself up. Instead, he let his arms hang low, using his blade as a crutch, the old steel creaking as he held all his weight upon it. He bowed his head and spoke.
“Aye, my king, do your words humble me so. I am glad to have done you this service.” The knight took a shaky breath and continued, “The mountain king was fierce and his temper ruinous upon my body. His blows landed upon me like a hammer on an anvil, or the waves upon the shore. Unyielding and unending. As we struggled it took every ounce of spirit within me not to bend and eventually he faltered long enough for me to swing my blade high and remove his head from his body.”
The court began to murmur surreptitiously, whispering praises about his valor. At the king grew nervous and spoke quickly.
“Well met, my loyal knight. I hear your valorous story and I commend you. Please, with haste, ask anything of me. Thus, can I reward you swiftly, so that you may rest.” In these words, did the king hope that the knight would, in such a foolish fury, choose a boon without much thought. He had hoped that the knight would choose some bauble or meagre treasure, something the king would not miss losing. Instead, the knight lifted his head and spoke rather sternly.
“I humbly ask for the princess’s hand. I have fancied her my entire life, and I wish to make her my bride.”
The court gasped, such a request was not unheard of, but most knew of the king’s ambition, and further still did most know of a court secret. The “chaste and honored” princess had a hidden suitor… a landed noble in the court whom the princess would merrily take secret nighttime trysts. No one knew not if the king himself knew, but it was such an open secret that most figured that even if he did, her marriage to the prince of the king in the Lands Beyond the Hills was certain, thus breaking that most uncouth of unions.
At the knight’s words did the king’s mood instantly drop, doing so in such a rapid and sudden change that it was noticeable by those astute in statecraft. But even if that went unnoticed, everyone saw the visible horror that the princess herself wore upon her face. Even if she was promised, and even if she was an adulteress, in her station did she hold herself so highly, that the thought of being with someone so below her in rank was a sickening thought that made her physically ill. True, did her and the knight play as youths, but to her the knight was more like a living doll than a man. Something to possess and admire only as a pastime to please the mind. She felt nothing but silent, and passive contempt for him.
As the king began to shift nervously and as the princess looked around, first to her father then to her lover, did the knight understand. He was a learned man, educated in a king’s court, and thus, a practitioner of statecraft. In truth, he had always felt the princesses dislike of him, but he had felt himself so full of valor as to wear a suit of false confidence. On his chest were so many ribbons and medals, that he had long ago pretended them to be the same as parcels of land, or treasures in a hoard. Foolishly had he won the black blade, foolishly had he pledged loyalty to the king, and foolishly had he broken his body, only to appease a woman who felt him to be the same as a serf.
And that, finally woke him up from his dream.
He found within a strength born from anger. Standing tall and proud, he threw his blade upon the ground, and it came down with such a force that it shattered into pieces.
The court gasped, and he pointed furiously at the princess, “Were I to learn all the languages of the world, you would still think me a fool! Were I to lift over my head, the weight of ten men, you would still think me weak! If I were to drink from a witch’s brew, an ichor of love and lust, you would still find me hideous! Woe, do my labors go unrewarded!”
He threw the head of the mountain king at his lord’s feet.
“Here is your head, my lord. Your problem solved. But in its place do I gift you a curse more foul, worth tenfold this treasure I granted you.”
He then held his hands up to the heavens and spoke most viciously.
“I place an everlasting pox upon this house! For every deed that should be rewarded, may the creditor find his coffers bare! For every love unrequited, may adulterers find themselves unable to wed! For my own deeds went unrewarded, and my own love unrequited, until I am paid my dues, will this keep find itself cursed!”
The knight then dragged himself off, never to be seen again.
But his curse did linger, his promised pestilence fulfilling itself in all its words. The king could not pay his debts, and the princess did not marry the prince, and every house in the land become bereft of wealth and love.
Until the day came when the knight was finally paid what he thought owed...
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