Medley of Fairy Tales and Fables Read online

  She folded each one and then asked. “Did you really think you could outsmart me?” The witch held out her hand and lifted Corrian about twenty feet in the air.

  He thrashed and attempted to free himself.

  “Leave him alone!” Brielle cried.

  The witch cackled. “I suggest you begin turning things into gold now, or I will let him go. And I promise you, Prince Corrian will not survive the fall.” She allowed him to fall a good six feet before catching him up again.

  That was all the motivation Brielle needed. “What do you want me to touch? Just tell me. But please spare his life!”

  “I thought you’d see things my way.” The witch pointed. “Now, begin touching everything in front of you. I want it all!”

  Brielle touched a stone, and then another and another. Her hands quickly trailed over bushes and grass and anything she could see in front of her. “Bring him down.”

  “I will tell you what to do!” snarled the woman. “Now touch the water!” She pointed to a stream a few feet away.

  With a deep breath Brielle moved over and started touching the water. It was heartbreaking to see such a life source disappearing. She’d already done so much damage earlier. Pulling back she looked at her work and was stunned at how much gold she’d already created. Never had she destroyed so many things at one time.

  “Why are you stopping?” Excitedly, the witch pointed behind her. “Get that butterfly! It’ll make the most gorgeous pendant.”

  Slowly, Brielle turned and her heart sank. There was the most gorgeous butterfly she’d seen in ages. It was happily fluttering around them all. “I won’t kill it. It’s too cruel.”

  “Yes, you will!” the witch snarled. She lunged at Brielle.

  Brielle flinched and ducked, but it was too late. A portion of the witch’s cloak touched Brielle’s hand. In an instant, the cloak had transformed to gold. Its weight was too much for the witch and she clawed at the clasp around her throat.

  “What have you done?” she croaked, her arms swung madly in an attempt to free herself.

  Brielle thought of all the people the witch had harmed and would continue to harm. And did not hesitate another moment before touching the witch’s dress, too. “If I had known it would be this simple, I wouldn’t have run from you.” She glared at the woman. “All you want is gold. Well now you have it. Your own personal supply.”

  “What?” The witch panicked as she gripped at the gold gown beneath her. “How dare you treat me this way!”

  Brielle sneered and grabbed the gloves from the witch’s hands. “Should I touch your face next?”

  The witch gasped and attempted to cover her face, but the hard golden sleeves of her gown held her arms in place. “I can’t even move my arms! How am I supposed to eat?”

  After Brielle put her gloves back on, Prince Corrian took Brielle by the hand and grinned a bit ruefully. “Are you ready to head home, my dear? I think I am.”

  “You can’t leave me out here!” the woman shrieked.

  Brielle laughed. “Oh, I can think of nothing more satisfying, knowing you aren’t about to harm anyone else for a long while.” She then made a small circle gazing at the forest surrounding them for the very first time. Really looked at it. “Do you think this land belongs to the kingdom—er, my kingdom?”

  “Oh…” Corrian’s jaw dropped slightly. “I had forgotten that fact. This is your home.” He gave her hand a small squeeze. “Would you like to see it, my dear? Perhaps see where you have come from now that the witch is preoccupied?”

  Her heart lightened at his words and it felt as though she were floating for a moment. “I—yes, could I? I have always been curious to know who I was.”

  The witch snarled. “I will curse you fools if you dare to take a step away from me! You will be doomed forever! In fact, I—”

  Brielle removed one glove and bent down with the gloved hand and picked up a large leaf. She walked over and placed it on the witch’s mouth. “I think we’ve heard enough from you.” Then touched the leaf and watched in satisfaction as it formed over her mouth muffling her threats. “There, that’s much better.”

  Corrian grinned. “It’s probably best we warn the kingdom about their visitor and her use of their dungeons as well. I’m sure they might be very appreciative of the fact that you’ve turned their tormentor mostly into gold.”

  “I believe you may be right!”

  “But first, my dear, we need to get you a new dress.”

  Brielle gasped as she looked down at her pantaloons, “You know, I’d forgotten all about that!”

  The witch’s muffled yelps grew more intense, but they fell on deaf ears as Brielle and Corrian very deliberately walked away.

  Chapter 11

  C orrian found a young woman who was more than willing to part with one of her dresses when she saw the gold stones he was willing to trade for it. Once at the castle Brielle and Corrian were bustled into a large throne room with several other of the kingdom’s subjects. Apparently, there was only two hours a day when someone not invited by the royal couple could speak to them, and there were no exceptions. Even when Brielle told the guard at the gate who she was, he wasn’t fazed at all. Merely told them where to stand and wait before being ushered into the large room.

  It was elaborately decorated with some of the finest tapestries, artworks, fabrics, trinkets and baubles Brielle had ever seen. The room itself was truly a work of art. However, with all of its grandeur, she was rather surprised it didn’t have chairs for the subjects to sit upon. Especially with the king and queen not in attendance.

  The crowd waited approximately twenty minutes before a murmuring began to go through the throng. A few seconds later and the group parted to reveal a very large, round man and his equally large wife in fine heavy attire. They walked with great pomp and circumstance to their thrones, pausing dramatically each step of the way, allowing their subjects to bow.

  When they finally reached their thrones, the king turned around with a great swish of his purple velvet cape. “All of those who have come here without gifts will please exit the room immediately.”

  Brielle glanced around to see several people panic and then some leave with their shoulders sunk.

  “Well done.” The king hit the floor with his staff. “Now we can commence. For those of you who have brought gold items we will speak to you first. As you know we prefer gold more than any other gift. The more elaborate the better.” He turned to the queen and they both laughed.

  The first pang of confusion hit Brielle with some force. This was not how she imagined her parents to be. Was this perhaps how she came to have her gift? Her heart twisted as she watched their eyes light up as they surveyed the crowd. “They did this to me,” she whispered. “I know it, they cursed me to forever fill their greed.” She had to leave.

  As the room parted and people began to merge forward with gold items, Brielle stepped back. Corrian stood next to her with a molded flower pot in his hand.

  “Will this do if you turn it to gold?”

  Brielle was about to answer when the king burst into laughter again.

  “But, your majesty, we need help!” A shorter man got to his knees and held his hat in front of him. “The school has needed a new roof for two years now. Winter will be fast approaching, is there nothing you can do?”

  “Do? What do you expect me to do?” The king laughed again as he examined the gold trinket the man had brought. “You have two hands, repair the roof yourself! You are the schoolmaster! Be useful to this kingdom, or I’ll toss you out on your ear!”

  “But I am already working hard with the children, I don’t have time to—”

  The king’s face flushed in anger as he stood up. “Be gone with you before I send you to the dungeons! I couldn’t care less how well educated the paupers are. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all welcome to rot in the fields instead of repairing some roof, anyway.”

  Two guards began to approach the man and he quickly got up
from his knees and bowed. “Thank you, your Majesty.” He made a quick beeline for the door.

  The next two subjects faired similar fates. Each bringing some, no doubt, family heirloom to the greedy king and queen and then being scoffed at and told to leave.

  “Brielle, are you well?” asked Corrian.

  “No. I want to leave. I don’t want to stay here.”

  “Don’t you think you should tell your parents you’re here?”

  “Why?” She turned toward him. “So they can have me change everything to gold?” She shook her head and then looked at the flower pot in his hand. “Come on, we’re leaving. And bring that pot with you.”

  “Are you certain? It looks like it’s an antique. Perhaps you shouldn’t touch it after all.” He followed her into the bright sunshine.

  “Do you see all the jumble they have in there?” Brielle continued to follow the crowd of rejected subjects. “The last thing they need is more gold.” She removed one of her gloves. “And I am most certainly touching the pot,” she said as she turned it to gold. “But they aren’t getting it.” She clutched the heavy object and began to search for the schoolmaster. She could just make out the back of the man in front of her. She hurried through the crowd. It was only a matter of seconds before she caught up to him.

  “Sir, here.” She handed over the pot and his mouth dropped open. “I heard you in the castle. Please accept this pot as means to fix the roof.”

  “Thank you!” He seemed gobsmacked. His eyes were huge and his mouth hung open. “Why this is enough gold to fix two roofs!”

  “Please take it. And take care of those children.”

  “You are a blessing. I can’t wait to show my wife!” He scurried away as Corrian came up and put his hand on her shoulder.

  “You have a kind heart, Princess Brielle.”

  She glanced around with a frown as she replaced her glove again. “One that has no place here.”

  “No?” he looked stunned.

  “Let us go home. I can claim this kingdom in years to come, but as of now I miss my home. And the realness of the farm. The joy of bread coming out of the oven, and new baby chicks hatching, and hanging the clothes on the line.”

  “And making a beautiful new gown for a ball.” He smiled.

  She blushed and then looked down at the simple frock he had acquired for her. “This is what I’m used to.”

  “You look beautiful no matter what you wear, even if it’s your pantaloons!”

  She gasped. “Prince Corrian! I cannot believe you said such a thing?”

  He grinned and continued down the path toward the large waiting gate. “Well, after compromising you several times with this incredible adventure, I believe I am liberty to say whatever I wish to my betrothed.”

  “Oh, is that so?” She laughed and bumped him with her elbow.

  “Indeed.”

  Her steps faltered as she saw the look he gave her. Together they halted on the bustling bridge leading from the castle. Corrian took her to the edge and leaned in close.

  “Marry me, my beautiful, amazingly talented, wonderfully kind princess.”

  “I’m just a farm girl,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t wish for anything else.”

  She kissed him then. There were so many things to worry about later—like turning his clothing into gold—but for right now, she was simply going to enjoy each moment.

  “Is it possible to fall in love so quickly?”

  He eyes searched hers. “My dear, I fell in love with you the second I saw the excitement on your face as you entered the ball. My heart tumbled right into yours and I can’t imagine that feeling will fade.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it will.”

  “But then we’ll rekindle that spark again. I can’t deny this feeling. Can you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to, either.”

  “Good. Then let’s go home. I’m afraid I need to meet your father!”

  She laughed. “I would hope so!”

  Hansel and Gretel were thrilled with such a wonderful son-in-law. Who wouldn’t be? He remained charming and driven to help his kingdom for the rest of his days. Brielle and Corrian wed in an elaborate ceremony, where Brielle’s true identity was only revealed to their parents. (There were several young ladies who were decidedly miffed that they did not receive an invitation to the ceremony or the grand ball held in the couple’s honor. Since Brielle was adamant she sew her own lace for the wedding gown, it was only proper that she didn’t hurt the young ladies’ sensibilities by allowing them to see it. So they stewed at home, while the rest of the two kingdoms celebrated at the grandest event of the decade.)

  Brielle and Corrian made their home in a beautiful and perfectly small castle overlooking the sea. The happy couple would go on to have three wonderful children, but their most memorable was their oldest, Princess Red. Who thankfully found the cure for Brielle’s uncommon curse/gift…

  Jenni James

  Jenni James is the award-winning, bestselling author of over forty-five books and seven screenplays. She writes in several different genres including: Women’s fiction, historical, fairy tales, modern YA and children’s books. When she isn’t writing she’s chasing her kids around the house or kissing her hunky hubby in their cottage nestled in a tiny town. Her small farm has lambs, peacocks, chickens, bunnies and the occasional critter or two. If you’d like to know more about Jenni please visit: www.thejennijames.com

  The Golden Bird

  By C. R. Truitt

  The Golden Bird

  J ohn, a strapping young hunter, had traveled a long way out of his territory in search of game to feed his family. Wild animals had become scarce because of competition from the other families in the countryside. Crop harvest had been poor last summer and although hopes were high for this summer, they had to get by with what they could find after such a long winter.

  He traveled until he could no longer see. Night had fallen. He found a place to sleep under a tree during the night near the edge of a plowed field.

  Waking the next morning to a cloudless blue sky and a soft breeze, John now saw that just beyond the furled field was a lush green forest. It was so dense that he couldn’t see past the first line of trees.

  John figured the forest ought to have plenty of game.

  Now that it was morning, he could also see a crudely built farmhouse and a ramshackle stable, not far away. Both buildings were made out of rough-cut timbers and thick mud with thatch-roofs. Both structures had been well built once upon a time, but had little care in recent years. Either the owner didn’t care much for the farm or perhaps he was too poor or too old to make repairs.

  While he watched the farm, the farmer came out of the little house and went to the stable that was only a few feet away. John hadn’t seen anyone for days and perhaps the farmer would know of if he knew a good place to hunt.

  So he picked up his bow, his satchel that held a modest amount of bread and cheese, and his quiver of arrows, slung them over his shoulder and set out towards the farm. The rutted dirt road went straight to the ratty small stable. He followed the road down a small hill to the stable. One of the two unvarnished ageing doors stood open. The doors would keep an animal inside but did little to prevent the wind. John was raised on a farm and the normal pungent smell only seemed natural.

  The stocky man inside had a square face, atop a short thick neck. His graying sandy hair was cropped short and thinned on top. It seemed the man was talking to the finest mare John had ever seen. She was raven black with a smooth shiny coat. She had a long black mane and attractive long curled lashes over coco brown eyes. He swore the horse gave the farmer an annoyed glance until she noticed John and then her gaze turned into a measuring stare.

  The farmer first noticed the horse’s change in her manner and turned to look, seeing John standing in the open door. The man’s bushy gray eyebrows furled into a questioning scowl.

  “Good day, Sir,” John greeted him. “Do you think it wil
l turn into a hot day?”

  “Aye,” The Farmer answered suspiciously.

  “That sure is a fine mare, Sir.” He brushed a portion of his shoulder length blonde hair behind an ear.

  ”Aye, but she is stubborn and refuses to plow. I plan to take her and sell her — and that saddle.” He pointed at the finest black leather and golden saddle, John had ever seen sitting astraddle a large log fastened between two poles that were set in the packed down earth. It was indeed a regal saddle with golden metal stirrups. Close by, in stark contrast, was a worn leather and wood saddle with rusty hammered metal stirrups. The seat was made of unvarnished wood that was beginning to crack from age and lack of care.

  “Fortunately,” continued the farmer, “all the plowing and sowing has been done so I don’t need her except to go to the market. With the price she’ll bring, I should be able to purchase a more suitable horse.”

  This farmer couldn’t afford such a fine saddle, much less a beautiful mare. “Where did you get her?” John inquired.

  The Farmer now leaned against the board stall and became friendlier. “Now, that is a story, Young Stranger. My old horse had run off and I went in search for her, when I found this mare standing by that saddle. I brought her, and the saddle, home. I’ve been waiting for a claim. None has come.”

  “Maybe the owner is hurt in that forest yonder. Did you go look?”

  “Not I. That forest is enchanted. I tell you what, young man, if you go in there and come back with the owner, I’d be obliged to give her back to him, if he’ll pay me for the good care, I’ve given this horse.”

  The black mare snorted.

  The Farmer glanced at her and then went on. “I have two more days before I go to the market, if you bring back the owner by then, I’m sure the owner would pay us both handsomely, otherwise, I will sell her and that saddle.”