The Woodcutter (21 page)

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Authors: Kate Danley; © Lolloj / Fotolia

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic, #General

BOOK: The Woodcutter
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The Lady in Blue tried to follow him, “Without true love, a Kingdom’s allegiance to the treaty with the fae is thought tenuous…”

 

“They brought in the Twelve Dancing Ladies to marry those Princes and to place upon the twelve thrones. They also lured a hellhound from the Wild Hunt,” the Woodcutter said. “They began kidnapping the true Princesses and feeding them to the Beast.”

 

The Lady in Blue looked at him squarely, “As long as they kept you blind, even if they could not capture you, as long as they could break seven of the Kingdoms from the treaty, they would have been strong enough to gain control over the remaining Kingdoms.”

 

“In ruling the Thirteen Kingdoms and possessing all the magic they have stolen from the pixies, I believe they want to face King Oberon and Queen Titania,” continued the Woodcutter.

 

“So that they can become the King and the Queen of the Fae…” the Lady in Blue whispered fearfully. “They do not understand they are destroying themselves.”

 

The Queen and the Gentleman.

 

Emperor and Empress of the Thirteen Kingdoms and seated in his Wood.

 

Their greed would undo them all.

 

The Queen and the Gentleman did not remember, or did not wish to believe the stories.

 

The Woodcutter looked at the Lady in Blue, “I have stopped them so far. They tried to take the Princess Rapunzel, but she is joined now with her true love. Snow White is protected by King Oberon and Queen Titania. Jack rests in the Woods, protected by my trees. Maid Maleen has been married to the Duke and is acknowledged as the rightful heir. You have been returned to power.”

 

The Lady in Blue looked at the Woodcutter’s traveling companion, who had remained silent all this time, “Iron Shoes must succeed.”

 

“Then six Kingdoms will be secure,” the Woodcutter said. “I believe I know where to find the seventh.”

 

The Woodcutter leaned forward towards the Lady in Blue, “I am looking for a human child with blue blood in her veins. She may not even know that she carries the ancestry of the fae.”

 

Iron Shoes and a lost half-blood girl were the only hope against the Queen and the Gentleman.

 

The Lady in Blue nodded and walked to a desk. She pulled a large map from a cupboard and unrolled it upon the surface.

 

“You must cross this river and travel by foot along this path. Strange currents have come from around this area.” She sighed, “As soon as you unite Iron Shoes with her husband, you must hurry. If I feel it, others must, too.”

 

The Lady in Blue turned to Iron Shoes and held out her hand. “Iron Shoes, your punishment for your impatience and the violation of the golden thread is almost through.”

 

The Lady in Blue smiled at Iron Shoes’ shock, “Yes, I know of what happened. I have been waiting for you for centuries, but I did not know that the role you must play is much larger than a simple search for the second half of your heart. You who have walked to the Sun and the Moon in search of true love, you who have ridden the back of the four Winds, you who have worn out three pairs of iron shoes and broken your walking stick to find the man you love – you have proven yourself worthy of your Prince.”

 

Iron Shoes’ breath caught in her throat. Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at the faerie queen in disbelief, “You know of my husband? You know where he lives?”

 

The Lady in Blue touched her elbow and said, “He is not far from here. He is enchanted and kept prisoner by an old woman named Baba Yaga.”

 

The Woodcutter stopped puffing on his pipe.

 

“The Queen and the Gentleman have convinced Baba Yaga to marry your husband to a false princess, which will happen in three days time,” the Lady in Blue continued. “Tomorrow, you must go to the castle of Baba Yaga and ask to serve as her seamstress. The only payment you will accept for your exceptional talent is to be able to spend the night with your love. It is only in the hours of darkness that your husband can see truth; it is only in the hours between midnight and dawn that he will recognize you.”

 

“But I am not a seamstress,” Iron Shoes said.

 

The Lady in Blue laughed, her voice sparkling in the air, “But you are.”

 

The Lady in Blue stepped to a cabinet and opened up the golden doors. She pulled out a sewing basket. Inside were three golden needles and three spools of golden thread, “You are the only one that can wield these instruments, and with these instruments, you shall save your true love. Gold thread tore you apart, and in three days’ time, it will unite you once again.”

 

The Lady in Blue turned to close the cabinet, but stopped herself. She reached up and brought out a bundle of brown material from another shelf. She handed it to the Woodcutter, “I was given this bag by a soldier who once captured death and held it for a time. I give it now to you. You have only to say, ‘Get in my bag’ and whatever it is you wish to capture must jump inside.”

 

The Woodcutter took the bag and placed it in his pack. “Thank you,” he said.

 

“Yes, thank you,” Iron Shoes continued fervently.

 

“I wish I could do more,” the Lady in Blue replied.

 

The Lady in Blue closed up the cupboards as the servant with the grizzled hair bowed in the doorway. The Lady in Blue motioned to her guests, “Let us at least sit down to eat before you continue on your way.”

 

When the meal was finished, the Lady in Blue pointed at the fish bones upon their plates, “Gather these up and place them in your napkins. They are my final gift to you.”

 

 

 

Chapter 62

 

 

 

A strange castle sat before the Prince’s palace, made of stone, round bottomed, with two chicken legs protruding from the tower walls. It looked as if the whole building had walked itself to the palace and then sat itself awkwardly before the gate.

 

Which it had.

 

Such was the nature of Baba Yaga’s moveable castle.

 

The Woodcutter stood with Iron Shoes upon the threshold of the castle’s kitchen.

 

Iron Shoes knocked upon the door, timid but resolute.

 

“Whadya want?” a harsh voice bellowed.

 

The door opened and before the Woodcutter and Iron Shoes stood Baba Yaga. Her face was warted and her iron gray hair flew out in wiry tendrils. At her waist swung a sturdy ring of keys. Baba Yaga looked at the Woodcutter and only the faintest glimmer in her eye gave away that she recognized him.

 

“Forgive me for disturbing you, Baba Yaga. I come seeking work,” whispered Iron Shoes reverently.

 

“And what is it that you do?” she cackled as she looked at Iron Shoes up and down.

 

“I am a seamstress.”

 

The Woodcutter gently took her elbow in his hand, “Of remarkable skill.”

 

“Remarkable skill, eh?” said Baba Yaga. She stroked her whiskery chin. “I have some mending that you might do. Very well, let’s see your remarkable skills, seamstress.”

 

She stepped aside to let Iron Shoes in, but held her arm out across the doorway and stopped the Woodcutter from following.

 

“And what is it that you do?” she asked. Baba Yaga was now fully the Crone, with no memory of the Maiden’s kindness.

 

“I thread her golden needle,” said the Woodcutter.

 

Baba Yaga wiggled a gnarled finger at the Woodcutter, “Seems like a job that can be handled by one. I don’t pay wages to needle threaders.”

 

“I work for the seamstress and require no additional wages beyond the wages she expects,” replied the Woodcutter.

 

Baba Yaga turned to Iron Shoes, “And what are these wages you will be demanding?”

 

Iron Shoes touched her hand to her tattered shawl and spoke bravely, “A night with the Prince for every day’s labor.”

 

Baba Yaga looked at her slyly, “A night with the Prince. For a day’s worth of my mending… Very well, we have a bargain.”

 

Baba Yaga walked the Woodcutter and Iron Shoes to a tower room and threw open a door.

 

A mountain of laundry, from floor to ceiling, lay heaped upon the ground.

 

“You do all the darning, you do the darning so tight that not a thistle can slip through the seams, you do it all in a day and I’ll give you a night with the Prince. And if you don’t, I shall cook you in my stew,” said Baba Yaga.

 

She slammed the door closed with a wicked laugh, leaving the Woodcutter and Iron Shoes alone inside.

 

 

 

Chapter 63

 

 

 

Tears sprang to Iron Shoes’ eyes as she stared at the pile of mending, “It is impossible.”

 

The Woodcutter placed his hand upon her shoulder, “Courage.”

 

He took the sewing basket from his pack and handed her the needle and thread. Her hands shook so that she could barely thread the gold through the gold, but the moment her fingers lay upon the first sock, it was as if it was sewn by magic. In and out her fingers pushed the needle, faster than eyes could follow.

 

The Woodcutter stood, holding the spool as the thread disappeared.

 

And so as the sun set upon the first day, the thread ran out and the first spool lay in the Woodcutter’s hand empty. The first needle disappeared into the air.

 

The mending was done.

 

Iron Shoes looked at the Woodcutter full of hope, “I shall see my true love.”

 

Just then, Baba Yaga stepped inside the door, wringing her hands with glee, “Well then, lass, seems there’ll be a tasty dinner for me---”

 

And then she spotted the mending and her face turned ashen.

 

“Girls!” she cried.

 

Two servants stepped forward, eyes downcast upon the floor.

 

“Go through his mending and if there is a seam that should gap so much as to let a thistle through, you call me at once.”

 

But no fault could be found in Iron Shoes’ mending, even though it was almost midnight when the inspection was through.

 

Baba Yaga returned and leered at the girl, “I don’t know how you did it, but a bargain is a bargain. Come, let us away to your Prince.”

 

Iron Shoes looked back at the Woodcutter, eyes sparkling with joy.

 

Baba Yaga looked at the Woodcutter with distain, “As for you, you can stay here until morning. You should have asked for boarding with your mistress’s wage.”

 

The Woodcutter sat in the dark as the last of the lantern light disappeared.

 

 

 

Chapter 64

 

 

 

He woke in the morning to sunlight upon his face.

 

Iron Shoes stepped into the room, tears streaming down her cheeks.

 

She rushed to the Woodcutter, “Oh Woodcutter, I could not wake him. Try as I might, he slept as if dead. This was all in vain.”

 

The Woodcutter stroked the young woman’s hair and hushed her, “Today is a new day and we still have two spools of thread. Despair not. Tonight you shall see your love.”

 

She looked at him, wiping away her sadness with the back of her hand.

 

They stepped out of the tower room and into Baba Yaga’s kitchen.

 

Foul stew sat boiling over the fire.

 

Baba Yaga looked at the twosome and gave a wicked grin, “Did you get all that you wanted in your night with the Prince? It seems I have some more mending if you are game.”

 

Baba Yaga lifted a spoonful of the stew to her lips and gave Iron Shoes a knowing wink.

 

Iron Shoes straightened her back and spoke, “My services are available if there is work to be done.”

 

“And what’ll be your wage?” Baba Yaga spat.

 

“A night with the Prince,” replied Iron Shoes.

 

“Very well,” Baba Yaga said. “This stew is a bit runny for my taste and I have some honored guests coming for the wedding.”

 

Baba Yaga threw down the spoon, “Come, let us get started.”

 

She walked Iron Shoes and the Woodcutter to a second tower room that housed twice as many garments with twice as many rips.

 

“You shall mend my garments so that not a thistle can slip through the seams. You do this, and you shall have a night with your prince. If you do not, I shall cook you in my stew.”

 

And with the bargain laid, Baba Yaga left.

 

The Woodcutter stayed only long enough to watch Iron Shoes thread her needle and to watch once more as her fingers flew.

 

He then stepped out of the room quietly, so as not to disturb her sewing.

 

The Woodcutter sat at the fire as Baba Yaga puttered around the kitchen.

 

She pretended to ignore him.

 

He lit his pipe.

 

She turned and gave him a glare, “That smoke of yours will ruin my dinner, Woodcutter.”

 

He gave her a smile.

 

Baba Yaga spooned something vile into a bowl and threw it upon the table, “Taste and see.”

 

The Woodcutter did not touch it.

 

Baba Yaga laughed, “Do you remember when you were too polite to turn down my cooking?”

 

She sat down beside him and propped her feet upon a chair, “Now, who is this one, coming into my home reeking of true love?”

 

“Just a girl,” replied the Woodcutter.

 

“Just a girl, you say,” said Baba Yaga. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Just a girl wouldn’t demand a night with the Prince for a day’s wage. Just a girl couldn’t have finished all my sewing.”

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