The Oathbreaker, Pt XXII

I expected the creature to reappear the night that my daughter was born- but it did not.  Nor did it arrive the night after, and I began to wonder when it would.  Because I knew it would, eventually- my mother’s words echoed in my ears: it knows how much greater the pain will be, if first you have had hope.  The creature was trying to make me hope it had forgotten our bargain, and if I had not had that conversation with my mother, I surely would have.  Hope born of desperate longing, but hope nonetheless.  Instead the delay just increased my dread, drove me to the edge of panic, and made it impossible to fully enjoy my first days with my daughter as I should have.

The king, of course, was utterly disgusted with me for delivering a worthless girl rather than a strapping boy, and he showed his pique by retiring immediately to one of his pleasure palaces, with a bevy of his favorite nobles.  I could not have been more pleased, for at least I didn’t have to worry about smiling for him on top of everything else.  Instead I spent the time attempting to plan.  Attempting.

Three weeks after my daughter was born, as the moon rose near-full on the horizon, the creature appeared, perched on the richly carved footboard of my bed.

“It has bred a lovely girl-child,” it said, pleasure evident in its gaping grin.  My daughter, nursing, did not react to its dark scratchy voice, but my arms tightened involuntarily about her warm body.

“You came,”I said, and my voice shook with terror and suppressed rage.  Plan or no plan, I could not be calm in the face of losing my child.

“Yes, one has come to let it fulfill its oath.  And it has done so well,” the creature stretched out, coming closer and peering with satisfaction at my daughter’s sweetly curved cheek.  It inhaled deeply, closing its eyes in delight.  “Yes yes, this will more than repay the magic one used for its straw-spun gold.”

“Please,” I whispered.  “Please don’t take my baby.”  Tears filled my eyes, slipped down my face.  “Please, I’ll give you anything else.  I’m queen now, I can give you anything!”

“One doesn’t want anything else,” the creature said smoothly, crawling up onto my blanketed legs until it was close enough to touch my daughter.  “One wants what was promised one.”  It began to sway, much as a mother holding a child would, but it made no move to take her.  I wondered if it wasn’t savoring the moment, like a glutton inhaling the scent of a fine feast.

“Please,” I said.  “Give me a chance to win her back!”

The creature paused mid-sway.  “Chance?” It said, long ears moving upwards.

“Yes!”  I said, desperation coloring my voice.  “You- you said you liked a good gamble!  Let’s raise the stakes, and if I win, I get to keep my daughter.”

The creature cocked its head to the side, considering.  “And if it loses?”

I had already thought of this, and knowing the creature desired pain, offered up the only thing I could think would increase the pain of losing my firstborn.

“You take her and… and any other children I might have after her.”

The Oathbreaker, PT XXI

I went straight to my mother’s grave, not daring to visit my father first, just in case something happened to call me back to the palace.  The guard stood a respectful distance back, and if he thought it strange that the king was apparently unaware that the mother I’d gone to visit was, in fact, dead, he made no comment.

I knelt awkwardly on the lush green grass before her headstone, and prayed a wordless prayer.  Then I spoke her true name aloud, and for the second time my mother’s spirit appeared before me.

“Yes, my daughter?”

I burst into tears as soon as I heard her voice, and she moved nearer to me, as though she would touch me if she could.  And how, how I wished she could.  Great, heaving sobs tore out of me as I folded forward over the round swell of the child growing within me.  My fingers dug into the the good dark earth beneath the grass, and my tears fell like a hot rain.

“Oh daughter,” my mother said.  “Oh my poor daughter,” and the way she said it, as though her heart were breaking, I knew she knew.  I would not have to say anything of what had led to this moment, and for that I found myself disproportionately grateful.  I cried a bit longer, then sat up and wiped my face on the back of my hand.  It was the gesture of a miller’s daughter, not a queen, and it comforted me.  My mother’s spirit smiled encouragingly, and I took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I disobeyed you, mother.  I dealt with a creature whose name I did not know, and soon it will come to collect what I so recklessly bargained away.”

“Tell me more of this creature,” she said, and so I did, going back over all three nights I’d spent with it.  Occasionally she’d stop me, ask for clarification on a point, or greater detail, but in the end she shook her head.

“It’s not one I know, my daughter,” she said.  Tears began to well up again, but she held up a hand to stall them.  “But from what you say- it enjoys a challenge, the game.  You say it appreciated you attempting to outwit it?”

“Yes,” I said, wondering where this was leading.

“You must attempt to outwit it again,” she said.  “It will give you the chance if you ask: it’s too vain not to.  But this time, you must succeed.”

My fingers spasmed into fists.  “But how, mother?”

“Challenge it.  Ask it for a chance to win back your firstborn.”

“But- but why on earth would it take such a chance?”

My mother smiled sadly.  “Because it would never believe that you, magicless mortal that you are, might actually succeed against it.  And because it knows how much greater the pain will be, if first you have had hope."

The Oathbreaker, Pt XX

And once I realized I loved it, the fear came soon after.  Because if I could love it this much now, when it was nothing more than the stroke of a butterfly’s wing against my womb, how much more would I love it when I held it, a fully formed child, small and helpless in my arms?

Only then did I begin to realize the price I had paid for a building full of stupid spun gold.  Gold which was used not to enrich the kingdom, as I had naively imagined, but rather to amuse the king, impress his minions, and humiliate his enemies.  I was dressed in an endless array of golden gowns, and I grew to loathe the color almost as much as the pale green of the king’s eyes.

If I’d thought I hated the king before that time, it was nothing compared to the hatred that swept through me during those too-short months of pregnancy.  I found I could not bring myself to hate the creature with whom I’d bargained- it had been very honest with me that the greater the magic the greater the pain required.  And it was a great deal of magic, indeed, it had worked that final night.  I was the fool who had dreamed I might get away without paying.  But it was the king- the selfish, mad king- who had put me in a position to make such an evil bargain in the first place.

The king, of course, was delighted by my delicate state- delighted enough to leave me alone, which was a great relief.  True, I was still visited daily by the court sycophants, but at least none could ignore my dismissal- and dismiss them I did, claiming any number of ailments.  There were many spies amongst the servants, but also a few whose love of me might just outweigh their fear of the king- but I did my best never to put them in the position to find out.  It wasn’t fair to ask so much of them, and I knew better than anyone the shame of being utterly powerless to protect one’s self, or the ones you loved.

The day I felt my child kick beneath the hand I’d pressed to my gently swelling belly, I realized I would burn the kingdom to the ground before I let the creature touch it.

It was time to visit my mother.

At first I was not going to ask the king.  I was the queen, after all- theoretically I could do as I wished, especially now that I was carrying his heir.  But… the fact that I was carrying his heir might make him all the more unreasonable.  He might decide to murder my entire village for kidnapping the royal heir.  I decided not to take the chance, and instead began to very conspicuously pine.  I pined, and turned away my meals (one of my maids brought me food in the middle of the night) until at last the king sent his physician to examine me.

I was not particularly fond of the physician, a man much in love with the perks of court life and skeptical of the rural healing traditions, but I knew how to manipulate him, and in the end he made his report to the king: I was suffering from a peculiar female hysterical ailment that only a visit with female kin would remedy.  He recommended I be sent to the countryside at once, for the curative powers of fresh air, and the calming effects of maternal love.

The king would not be satisfied unless I went with a retinue of dozens, nevermind that they would slow my progress, or the strain that would put on my village’s resources.  During the year we had been married, however, I had learned a thing or two about manipulating the his ego, and his paranoia, and it did not take long for me to convince him that it was his idea to send me alone but for a single, trusted guard.

“We’ll tell the court you’re ill,” he said decisively, “And cannot see or be seen by anyone, lest it endanger the baby.  You will travel disguised as a miller’s daughter and her brother, on their way to visit their ailing parents.  My enemies will never suspect the ruse!”  He chuckled at his own genius, then stroked my belly possessively.  “They’ll have neither of you, my precious treasures” he said softly, and I smiled serenely, as inwardly I imagined castrating him with a paring knife.

The Oathbreaker, Pt XIX

I will not bore you with a recitation of the events of the following day- one wedding is much like another, if it is not your own, and since I was not a willing bride, in this instance, it did not even hold the charm of being my own.  Suffice to say, by sunset I was wedded and bedded in the very worst of the old customs.

I understand that the physical act of love does not have to be terrible- but I imagine that is because it is a physical act of love.  What happened to me, while physical, had nothing to do with love.  Well, not beyond the king’s love of his own self, of course.  Each night he came to me, and I retreated into my mind as much as possible.  Each morning, as he slept, I chewed the herbs that would prevent his seed from taking root.  Each day I longed for him to return to his many mistresses, and bother me no longer.  But the kingdom required an heir, and so he kept at his work, as unenthusiastic as he found me.  At times I toyed with the idea of letting it happen, just for a few month’s reprieve : after all, the creature would take the child off my hands as soon as it arrived, and no one could say I hadn’t done my duty to the kingdom.  But I couldn’t bring myself to doom an innocent child to such a dubious fate, blood of the king’s blood or not.

Unfortunately for my scruples, the winter held on longer than anyone expected, and the plants stayed sleeping, locked beneath the frozen earth.  I discovered, to my horror, that I had not put aside enough of the dried herb to outlast this delay- and before the first moon cycle had passed without it, I was with child.

I considered doing away with it, of course- I was a wise woman, after all, and knew how.  Had known my mother to help other women when the time was not right for them.  But I found that, for myself, I could not do it.  Much as I hated the king, hated my life, I could not bring myself to hate the potential growing within my body.  And then I felt it move, and found that I loved it, poor unwanted thing.

The Oathbreaker, Pt XVIII

“It must undo this,” the creature snapped, gesturing at my wrist.  I blinked, apparently having gone into a sort of waking trance as I watched the gold spin out.  The room was nearly bare of straw, now.  “Quickly!” it snapped its teeth together, flexing its claws impatiently near my wrist.  “One cannot be slowed by its dullness, too much at stake!  Yes yes!”

I gave myself a little shake and slipped the straw bracelet back over my wrist, then began to pick it apart.

“Faster!” the creature hissed.  “No time for mortal slowness!” but it did not rip the straw from me, as I half expected, not until the last twist was undone, when it did snatch and become a blure once more.  I glanced down the length of the now echoing structure, to where a row of windows revealed a rapidly lightening sky.

Suddenly the creature was before me again, glowing eyes narrowed.

“What,” it said, but it wasn’t so much a question as a statement.  “What, what,” it muttered, bobbing up and down, and swaying ever-so-slightly.  “What has it done?  How has it done it?” The creature began to pace around my skirts on all fours, sinuous as a cat.

“Shake them!” it demanded.  “It must shakes its wretched skirts!”  I did so, feeling nauseated.  It knew!  Somehow, the creature knew I’d held back.

“Where where where,” it hissed, then the long pointed tongue came out, and it began to snuffle around me.

“Stop that!” I squeaked, but it did not.  Instead it gave a triumphant bark and began to scrabble at my shoe.  I tripped and fell, terrified of its sharp claws and sharper teeth, not caring what the rough stone floor might do to my skirts as I scrambled backwards.

“Yes yes!” It laughed, and quick as a snake snatched the straw from my shoe.  It gave it a small twist between its fingers, and suddenly it was holding a short thread of gold.

“Yes yes,” it repeated, grinning at me.  “It was clever, so clever.  It knew to ask one’s name, knew to leave a loophole.  Yes yes, one appreciates a clever challenger, one does.”

The latch on the door clicked, and the creature tossed the twisp of gold at me, then spun into itself as it had the first night.

“One will see it again, yes yes,”

The words were a gloating whisper echoing in my ears, and I shivered at the promise.  Relieved as I was that the creature had been pleased rather than angry at my attempted deception, I couldn’t help but worry if, perhaps, that didn’t herald worse to come.  After all, who appreciated a trick more than a trickster?

The Oathbreaker, Pt XVII

And work quickly, the creature did- so quickly it seemed a blur to me, spools of golden thread appearing as if from a black mist.  More and more, higher and higher, all the while the straw seemed to stay the same level.  As the first hour passed I felt certain that it didn’t matter how strong its magic was: the creature would never be able to spin.  But then the second hour passed, and the third, and the creature moved more quickly still, nearly invisible, a ring of bare stone beginning to spread out from the piles of spools.  I began to revise my opinion.

It might have been wise to sleep, but I found I could not.  My stomach was churning with dread as I imagined all the possible ends to this night’s work, none of them good.  I twisted straw between my fingers to keep them busy, eventually plaiting an elaborate braid, and then a full wreath, just large enough to slip over my hand and onto my wrist.  Staring at it, an idea began to blossom in my head.

What if the creature didn’t actually spin all of the straw- the king wouldn’t notice a missing handful, but the magic would.  Even a single piece should disrupt things.  My heart began to beat faster, and I spun the bracelet around and around my wrist, thinking furiously.  It was far too large not to be noticed, of course, but it might act as a smokescreen.  If I held one additional piece back- just one- hidden in my skirts, or my hair, and said nothing come sunrise, let the creature think the bargain was kept… then if it ever returned to plague me, to collect something beyond a promise, I could confront it with its failure.

I shifted about in my pile of straw, until my shoes were free of my skirt, and slowly, carefully, I pushed a single, broken piece of straw down into the side of my left shoe.

The Oathbreaker, Pt XVI

There was yet another stool- this one the most comfortable-looking yet- not five paces past the door.  And there upon it was the spindle.  I sighed, and looked around.  Surely not even the creature could spin all of this before the morning, regardless of whether or not I had anything of value to trade it.  And I had no illusions what would happen to me, were any left unspun.  And if, somehow, it did manage it, with its hideous pain-fed-magic, was the alternative any better?  Marriage.  I had never wanted marriage, and I certainly didn’t wish to be married to that horrible man who wore the crown.  I shuddered, well and truly trapped.

“It is unhappy,” the voice, inappropriately cheerful, came from my feet, and I looked down to see the creature rubbing up against my skirts like a distorted cat.  I flicked the skirts at it, and darted away with a hissing giggle.  “Yes yes,” it said, and scrambled up on the stool to survey the room.  “So unhappy.  One is also unhappy with this lack of vision.”  It sighed deeply.  “Still, one wants to help.  Yes yes.  One will help, if it wants.”

“I have nothing left to trade,” I snapped.  The creature opened its mouth into that terrible, sharp-toothed grin.

“It has its word,” it said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I sank down into the straw, annoyed by the many layers beneath my too-heavy gown.

“It has nothing left,” the creature said patiently, “Except its word.”

“My word?”

“Yes yes.  One would accept the magic words of a promise, in trade for one’s greatest magic working yet.”

I eyed it warily.  “What would I have to promise?”

“One will spin all of this,” it gestured expansively, “into the soft pretty gold, in exchange for the promise of its firstborn child.”

“I have no child,” I said, confused.

Its eyes narrowed.  “It has no child at present.  But ones trades for the promise of a child.  One will do the work for the promise alone, for its solemn oath.”  It raised a single claw, warningly.  “But it must not break its oath, or the magic will turn upon it in ways too terrible to imagine.  One has seen it happen.  One would never dare to break a bargain.”

I remembered how careful it had been to spin every last piece of straw the previous two nights, and I believed it.  My heart beat furiously in my throat as I considered the proposal: I had no desire for a child- never had.  Was it really possible that the creature would do this for me, and demand no payment beyond what would never arrive?  I had to be certain, of the terms, so I stared into its slanted green eyes as I asked,

“And if I never have a child?”

Again the open-mouthed grin.  “Yes yes, a gamble, to be sure.  It might never breed.  But one appreciates a good gamble: makes the prize all the sweeter.  Will it take the trade?”

I looked again at the seemingly endless piles of straw, then back at the crouched black form before me, trembling with excitement.  I knew it was a trap, but couldn’t see how: something for nothing.  And what choice did I have?

“Every last piece of the straw within these walls, for the promise of my firstborn child,” I said, slowly.  Its eyes glinted.

“It must give its oath,” it said.

“I give you my oath,” I said, “That if you will spin all of this straw to gold before the sun rises, I will give you my firstborn child.”

Something rippled over my skin, flashing out across the creature and the building beyond.

“The bargain is struck,” hissed the creature.  “One must work quickly.”