Chapter Nineteen The Golden Bird #2
“The gardener had three daughters. On the first night, he ordered the eldest daughter to sit up and guard the tree. But she fell asleep, and didn’t see the culprit make off with the missing apple.
On the second night, the middle daughter stayed up to watch the tree, but she too fell asleep, and in the morning, another golden apple was gone.
Finally, on the third night, the youngest daughter sat out to watch the tree.
Though she was the youngest and the smallest, she worked hard to stay awake all night, and, near break of day, she spied a golden bird swoop out of the sky, clutch a golden apple in its talons, and fly off into the forest, leaving in its wake one golden feather.
She picked up the feather and brought it to her father, who brought it to the king.
“Seeing the golden feather, the king ordered the bird captured, for if one of its feathers was made of gold, imagine how valuable the whole bird would be. The gardener bid his eldest daughter to go after the bird, into the forest, and catch it. So the oldest girl, who was stubborn, walked off into the woods. Before long, she came upon a talking fox. ‘Take heed,’ said the fox. ‘Farther up this path, you shall come to a town with two inns. One shall look warm and inviting, and one shabby and poor. No matter how tempting the warm inn looks, do not stay there, as you will forget who you are and where you are going, and will never want to leave.’ The oldest sister was annoyed at the fox and kicked him away with her foot. When she came to the town, she went into the warm and inviting inn without a second thought. Right away, she forgot who she was and where she was going.”
“Tsk, tsk,” said the elder Martha from her mat. Ah, thought Anne, a smart girl, who can spy foolishness, much like her mother.
Ethel continued. “After some time had passed, the gardener sent his second daughter, who was selfish, after the first. ‘Find your sister,’ he commanded, ‘and the golden bird. And don’t come back without them.’ The second daughter came upon the same talking fox as well.
‘Take heed,’ said he. ‘Farther up this path, you shall come to a town with two inns. One shall look warm and inviting, and one shabby and poor. No matter how tempting the warm inn looks, do not stay there, as you will forget who you are and where you are going, and will never want to leave.’ The second sister, annoyed, kicked the fox away with her foot, and threw a rock at him.
When she came to the town, she spied the warm and inviting inn, and, looking through its window, saw her sister there, dancing and making merry.
‘I want that good cheer for myself,’ said the second sister.
‘How dare my sister keep it from me.’ And she hurried into the warm inn.
Upon crossing the threshold, she promptly forgot who she was, where she was going, and even that her sister was her sister. ”
“Serves her right,” said Constance.
“The gardener had no choice then,” Ethel went on, “but to send his youngest daughter, who was kind and obedient, into the woods after the first two. He hated to see her go, because she was his favorite. Not far down the path, the girl came upon the talking fox. ‘Take heed,’ said he. ‘Farther up this path, you shall come to a town with two inns. One shall look warm and inviting, and one shabby and poor. No matter how tempting the warm inn looks, do not stay there, as you will forget who you are and where you are going, and will never want to leave.’ Instead of kicking or hitting the fox, the girl said, ‘Thank you, dear fox, for your kind advice.’ Impressed with the youngest daughter’s manners, the fox offered to take her to the town.
‘Ride on my tail,’ said the fox, ‘for it will be faster.’ The girl rode the fox’s tail to the town, and when they arrived, she saw her sisters through the window of the warm inn, dancing and making merry. She went, instead, to the cold inn.”
The younger children began to lie down on their mats, curling up on their sides sleepily.
“Seeing that he could trust the girl,” Ethel went on, eyeing the sleepy children with approval, “the next morning the fox said to her, ‘I will tell you how to catch the golden bird, but you must listen and do exactly as I say. Deeper in the woods, you will come upon a great castle, with guards sleeping outside. Creep into the castle, and in the highest tower, you shall find the golden bird in a plain wooden cage. Beside it will be a gold cage. Do not move the bird to the finer cage, no matter how tempting it may be to do so.’
“What the fox said was true. The girl came upon the castle with the sleeping guards.
She crept inside and found the golden bird in his plain cage.
But, as she stood there, she thought how the gold cage was certainly worth a fortune, and how her father, the poor, hardworking gardener, could use such wealth.
‘Surely no one will notice if I move the bird to the finer cage,’ thought the girl, but as she did so the bird let out a great shriek that woke the guards, and the king and the queen in the castle, and their son, the prince.
“The king arrested the girl and told her that he would kill her by morning, unless she caught a golden horse and returned it to him. If she did, the king said, she could marry his son, who would one day be the king.
“The fox came to the girl again. ‘Though you didn’t listen to me, I will help you again,’ said the fox.
‘In the clearing, you will find the golden horse, and two saddles, one made of leather, and one made of gold. Place the leather saddle on the horse and ride him to the king’s castle.
Do not place the golden saddle on the horse, no matter how tempted you are to do so.
’ The girl followed the fox’s instructions and came upon the golden horse in the clearing.
‘What harm could it do to put the golden saddle upon the horse?’ she thought, remembering her poor father and how much he could use the money from a golden saddle, which was certainly worth a fortune.
No sooner had she placed the golden saddle on the golden horse’s back than the beast galloped away, taking the golden saddle with it. ”
“Why did she do that?” mumbled Robert.
“Well, she’s quite stupid, obviously,” replied his sister, Martha.
“Shhhh,” said Ethel. “Now is the time to be quiet.” She continued her tale.
“Having failed to catch the golden horse for the king, the girl was locked in the castle tower to await her death at the gallows. ‘You shall die in the morning,’ said the king, ‘unless you can move that mountain outside the window, which blocks my view. If you do that, you shall marry my son, who will one day be king.’ Again, the fox came to the girl. ‘Twice you haven’t listened to me, but I will help you once more,’ said the fox.
While the girl slept that night, the fox used magic to move the mountain.
In the morning, the king, amazed, freed the girl, and set a date for her to marry his son.
“Overjoyed, the girl asked if she could first fetch her father, so that he could be at the wedding. The king agreed, and also let her take the golden bird with her, so that she could prove what she said was true. He gave her two gold coins, so that she could pay for food and lodging along the way. In the woods, the girl thanked the fox for all that he had done to help her. ‘There is one thing you could do,’ said the fox, ‘to show your gratitude.’ ‘Anything,’ said the girl. ‘You must behead me,’ said the fox.”
Anne winced. She didn’t like the turn this tale was taking.
“The girl said she could not possibly do so,” Ethel went on, “and the fox said, ‘Again you do not listen to me, but I will give you one more piece of advice. Do not buy gallows meat, and do not sit at the edge of a river.’ What strange advice, the girl thought. How would a person buy gallows meat?”
Ethel paused for a moment, as though waiting for an answer. But the children had begun to doze off, and none came.
“The girl continued on her journey, and before long, she came upon the town with the two inns, where a crowd had gathered. A gallows was being built, and the girl learned it was for two women who had behaved wickedly at the warm and inviting inn. She learned the two women were her sisters, and she used her two gold coins to pay to have them freed.”
“That’s the gallows meat,” Martha whispered, for she remained awake.
“As the three sisters walked home, the older sisters became jealous of their younger sister, who would be showered with praise when she brought the golden bird home, and would live in comfort as the prince’s wife.
They hatched a plan to kill her. ‘Come sit by the river, sister,’ they said, and though the fox had warned her not to do so, the younger, obedient sister sat by the river with her stubborn sister and her selfish sister.
They quickly pushed her into the river, and she drowned.
“The fox came back one more time. He pulled the youngest sister out of the river and breathed into her mouth until she came back to life. Then he took her to her father, the gardener, where she told him the whole story, about the talking fox, and the golden bird and golden horse, and the prince she was betrothed to marry, and how her wicked sisters had killed her. The gardener punished the older sisters by turning them into prickly rosebushes, because the gardener knew a bit of magic himself. How else do you think he had grown the golden apple tree?”
Again, no one answered Ethel. The younger children were all asleep by now, and the older children were close to it, too drowsy to be bothered with speaking.
“He went with the daughter to the kingdom of her betrothed, where she married the prince, and, eventually, became the queen. One day, the queen was walking in the forest when she came again upon the talking fox. ‘Good fox!’ she said. ‘You helped me so. What can I do to repay you?’ ‘There is one thing you could do,’ said the fox, ‘to show your gratitude.’ ‘Anything,’ said the queen. ‘You must behead me,’ said the fox.”
Anne put a hand to her silk collar. Under it, the scar, fleshy ghost of her beheading.
“This time, the queen knew that she must listen to the fox. She drew out her sword, for, in this kingdom, all women carried swords and went into battle like men, and cut off the fox’s head.
The fox did not die, though, but instead transformed into a powerful wizard.
‘Thank you, dear queen,’ he said. ‘I have been trapped in the body of the fox for many years, after a witch cursed me.’ The wizard became the queen’s most trusted advisor and lived happily with her in the castle for the rest of her days. ”
As Ethel’s story drew to a close, Anne’s heart quickened and her throat tightened.
It was just a children’s story, it was true, but hadn’t Anne, like the girl, failed to take the good advice of others?
Hadn’t she, like the girl, like the fox wizard, risen from the dead?
The mention of the fox’s beheading caused her to panic.
It was as though she could feel the planks of the scaffold beneath her knees, as though she could smell the straw laid out to catch her blood, as though she could hear her executioner saying “Je vous attends,” I wait for you, as she finished her last prayers, as though she could hear the whistle of the sword as it sliced the air behind her head.
Had it whistled? Her heart beat in her chest, faster, faster, like the fast-running feet of a fox.
She had no idea why her heart beat at all.
She had no idea why she was here, alive, in this fenland hut, instead of dead and buried, her suffering over.
She needed air. Rising from the bed and not paying any mind to Alice—who looked at her with confusion and asked, “Where are you going, my lady?”—she stepped carefully over and between the mess of sleeping children, scattered on their mats, and hurried out the door of the hut.
In the yard, she drew in breath after breath of marsh air, though it smelled faintly of muck and sulfur.
She gulped the air greedily. Her ribs ached from pulling it in.
The fog had cleared in the night, and she could see innumerable stars above her, shimmering.
Each star reflected perfectly in the water all around the island, as though someone had blown a handful of little lights across the landscape, across the heavens and the earth, and whispered to them, Stay, and they had listened.