A Tale Dark and Grimm

followed Johannes to the boat.

The young king, in his disguise as a merchant, greeted her. Her beauty was so stunning, her sadness so apparent and so tender, that he nearly fainted again. But somehow he did not, and she smiled at him and invited him to show her all the treasures he had brought to her fair land.

As soon as they had descended below the deck, Johannes hurried to the captain of the ship, and, in whispered tones, instructed him to cast off from shore and set sail for home immediately.

Now, my young readers, I know just what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, Hmmm. Stealing a girl. That’s an interesting way of winning her heart. Allow me to warn you now that, under any other circumstances, stealing a girl is about the worst way of winning her heart you could possibly cook up.

But, because this happened long ago, in a faraway land, it seems to have worked.

For the golden princess came back up to the deck and saw that her land was far away from her. At first she did indeed protest, and fiercely, too, that she’d been carried away by lowborn merchants. But when one of the “merchants” revealed himself to be a king, and revealed that, in addition, he was madly in love with her, and when, besides, Johannes assured her that, if she really wanted to, she could go home, but she couldn’t take the gold if she did, the princess realized that in fact the young king was just the kind of man she would like to marry after all, and decided that she’d give the whole matrimony thing one last shot.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End

Are there any small children in the room? If so, it would be best if we just let them think this really is the end of the story and hurried them off to bed. Because this is where things start to get, well ... awesome.

But in a horrible, bloody kind of way.

As the ship plowed through the purple sea, the new lovers made moon-faces at each other up near the bow. Faithful Johannes was sitting near the back of the ship, admiring the success of his plan, when he noticed three ravens alight on a mast beam.

The first raven motioned with his beak at the king and princess. “What a lovely couple those two make,” he said.

And the second said, “Yes. Too bad they won’t stay that way.”

The first said, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” the second replied, “when the ship gets to land, a beautiful chestnut stallion will canter up to the group, and the king will decide to ride it back to the castle. But if he does, he will be thrown from its back and die.”

“Good God, that’s horrible!” said the first raven. “Is there nothing anyone can do?”

“Oh, there is,” said the second raven. “Someone could kill the horse before the king mounts it. But what good is that? For if someone did it, and told why he did it, he would be turned to stone, from the tips of his toes to the knobs of his knees.”

“To stone?” asked the first raven.

“To stone,” answered the second.

The third raven, who’d been listening quietly, cut in at this point. “It gets worse, you know,” he said. “If, by some chance, the two lovers escape that danger, another lies ahead. For when they arrive at the gates of the castle, a beautiful bridal gown, made of pure gold, will be laid out on a bed of purple flowers. The princess will want to wear it, of course. But if she touches it she will be consumed by a ball of fire and burn to a cinder right there on the spot.”

“Good God, that’s terrible!” cried the first raven. “Is there nothing anyone can do?”

“Oh, there is,” said the third raven. “If someone were to pick up the dress before she could, and throw it in the fire, the princess would live. But what good is that? For if someone did it, and told why he did it, he would be turned to stone, from the knobs of his knees to the core of his heart.”

“To stone?” repeated the first raven.

“To stone,” confirmed the third.

“Nor is that all,” said the second raven morosely. “For if the two lovers avoid that tragedy, a final one awaits. When they are married and begin the wedding dance, the new queen will swoon, and fall to the floor, and die.”

“Good God, that’s the worst thing yet!” cried the first raven. “Is there nothing anyone can do?”

“Oh, there is,” said the third. “If someone were to bite the new queen’s lip and suck three drops of blood from it with his mouth, she would live. But what good is that? For if someone did it, and told why he did it, he would be turned to stone from the core of his heart to the top of his head.”

“To stone?” said the first.

“To stone,” replied the second.

“To stone,” echoed the third.

And with that, the three ravens shook their black beaks, sighed sadly, and flew away.

Faithful Johannes buried his head in his hands, for he had heard all. He knew what he would have to do, and that it could not come to good.

Just as the ravens had foretold, after the ship landed and the king and his wife-to-be had been greeted by all the servants and courtiers of the castle, a beautiful chestnut stallion cantered up to the group. The king, taken with the beast’s beauty, announced that it would bear him in triumph back to the castle. But before he could mount it, Johannes slipped onto its back, drew a blade, and cut the horse’s throat, soaking its silken coat with warm, red blood. It collapsed to the ground in a heap.

Cries of shock went up from the crowd. The other servants, who had never loved misshapen Johannes, whispered, “To kill the king’s new stallion! Treason! Treason!”

The king looked back and forth between Johannes and the dead horse. Johannes’s face had no expression. At last, the young king said, “Johannes was faithful to my father and to my father’s father and to my father’s father’s father before that. He has always under-stood us. So I will under-stand him. If he does it, it must be right.”

Not another word was said about the subject, and the party proceeded, afoot, back to the palace.

When they arrived at the gate they saw a beautiful golden bridal gown, lying on a bed of purple roses.

“Oh! I shall wear it in the wedding!” the queen-to-be exclaimed, running to take hold of the marvelous garment.

But before she could reach it, Johannes grabbed it from the flower bed and strode into the great hall, where he threw it into the fire.

Again, the party was taken with cries of shock and dismay. The servants huddled together and whispered, “Treason! Treason!”

But the king hushed them. “Johannes has always been faithful to me and my family. So I will be faithful to him. If he does it, it must be right.”

The young king and golden princess were married the very next day. The princess looked particularly beautiful, her ocean-blue eyes brimming with joy. But Johannes watched anxiously.

They moved to dance, and the music began. But they had not taken two steps when the new queen suddenly swooned and fell to the ground. Before anyone else could move, Johannes swept in, lifted her to his chest, and carried her out of the hall.

He hurried through empty hallways, carrying the new queen in his arms, to a narrow, winding staircase that