Coal Black

         Once upon a time there lived a handsome King. He enjoyed standing beside a high tower window looking out over his Kingdom. He loved winter, and today was an especially beautiful winter day, with crisp white snow under a brilliant blue sky. He grinned as his favorite stallion charged across the paddock, churning the pristine snow with hooves as hard as iron. Muscles rippled under a glossy black coat as the mighty steed ran, his dark mane and tail flowing in the wind.

         “How glorious it would be to have a baby boy, with the strength of the horse, eyes as blue as the sky and hair as dark as coal, just like the Queen’s ebon braids,” he said wishfully and in a playful voice added, “and make him too handsome for the ladies to resist.”

         Winter turned to spring and spring to summer and the Queen gave birth to a boy. When the King saw his son’s black hair and deep blue eyes and then felt the boy’s strength as the babe gripped his finger, he remembered his wish. When he told the Queen about his wish, she smiled, “Then we shall name him Coal Black in honor of your wish and his great mane of black hair.”

         Two winters later, among the presents the Queen received for her birthday was a tiny golden box with no card and only a golden needle inside. That afternoon she sat between the window and Coal Black’s crib. She took out the new needle and as she started her first stitch, the needle twisted evilly, pricking her finger. The Queen swooned and fell and by morning she died. The people wept and the Kingdom seemed darker somehow.

         The very next day a beautiful woman appeared at the castle. She convinced the King to hire her as a nanny for the young prince. It wasn’t long before the King found himself unable to resist her suggestions, and soon, to the dismay of most, they were wed. The new Queen was exceptionally beautiful, but very vain. She hung a magic mirror in her room and each evening she would gaze into it saying:

         “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?”

         “You, oh Queen, are the fairest one of all,” was always the mirror’s answer.

         The Queen smiled each time she heard those words, for the mirror could speak only the truth.

         The King’s health diminished and before long the Queen was ruling in his stead.

         Coal Black was usually ignored by the Queen. He spent his younger days in the company of the staff and their families. He helped with their chores and learned what they would teach and made many friends. Each year he grew more handsome and the ladies did not seem able to resist his charms. He enjoyed their attentions but found no love in their hearts. When jealousy and hurt had driven away his friends, he despaired. In his shame and loneliness he cursed the wish his father had wished. From a travelling Wise Woman he bought a magic scarf which hid his face, all but his eyes. “Heed me, Prince, for the mask cannot hide you from love’s gaze nor magic’s focus,” she warned.

         Though hidden, his beauty only grew. One fateful day the Queen looked into the mirror and asked:

         “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?”

         “You, oh Queen, are fair, ‘tis true, but Coal Black is fairer now than you.”

         Rage took the Queen and she decided that Coal Black must die. She summoned the Hunter to the dungeons where his wife and daughter knelt in chains. “You will take the Prince hunting, far from the castle and kill him there. To prove the deed truly done, you will bring me his heart.” The Queen rattled the chains, “Your love for the Prince is well known, Hunter, but I will have his heart, or you will have theirs.”

         The Hunter wept as he led the Prince deep into a faraway forest. As Coal Black brought down a mighty stag with an arrow, the Hunter sprang with blade drawn and regret in his eyes. His knife missed its mark and Coal Black easily lifted and tossed him across the glade.

         “Why would you do this, Hunter, you have always been kind to me?”

         “I must present your heart to the Queen, or my wife and daughter will lose theirs.” Tears rolled down the Hunter’s face.

         “I will hide here until they are safe. Take the stag’s heart to the Queen in place of mine.”

         Greatly relieved, the Hunter hastened into the night with the stag’s heart.

         Tired, hungry and angry, Coal Black gathered wood and soon part of the stag began to sizzle over a small fire. The Hunter had always been a true friend and Coal Black’s heart was sore with worry.

         The next morning he followed a trail to a clearing with a cottage, a barn and a garden. When his knocks got no answer he went inside.

         The cottage was one large room, with seven beds against one wall and a long table in the center surrounded by seven small chairs. On the table were seven plates, seven forks, seven knives and seven mugs. A short cupboard, fireplace, and a sink were lined up along another wall. Frilly curtains with flowers and lace hung prettily in the windows, the beds were neatly made with silken sheets and elegantly embroidered blankets. A bouquet of flowers stood in the center of the table, filling the cottage with the scents of roses and honeysuckle. Everything was clean and very tidy.

         He found a loaf of flaky bread and a pot of beans left near the fire to keep warm. His stomach rumbled and he ate his fill outside by the well.

         He did a few chores to pay for the food, and then lay across one of the beds, meaning only to nap a bit until the owners of the cottage returned.

         Just before sunset, seven dwarfs strolled into the clearing. They were slender and spry, with womanly curves and delicate features, and though the tallest was four foot four, none who saw them would mistake them for children. They were chattering and giggling as they emerged from the trees, but when they saw the freshly watered garden and a huge pile of split wood their voices went silent. One went to the barn and found the cow had already been milked and the hay stacked while another found the stag hanging from a tree behind the house. Another noticed smoke drifting lazily from the chimney.

         One grabbed a pitchfork and they entered the cottage quietly.

         “Someone has eaten our beans.” A blonde one said curiously.

         “The water barrel is full and so is the milk pail.” A red head whispered.

         “Someone has set beans to cook and venison as well.” A raven haired dwarf added.

         “Someone has eaten our bread.” A golden haired one observed.

         “Someone is sleeping in my bed,” a tiny brown haired woman said sweetly, “and his face is hidden.”

         “Look at his muscles, have you ever seen their like?” another said.

         “Should we pull back those wrappings and see what he hides?”

         “No. Come away now, let him sleep. Doing all those chores has more than earned him a good night’s rest,” one said, playfully shooing the others away. “We shall take turns watching, just to be safe.”

         The brunette in whose bed he slept took the first watch and every hour they switched. Each one tried to steal a peek behind the mask, but try as they might, not a glimpse did they see.

         In the morning Coal Black met the seven dwarfs. They listened raptly, their eyes narrowing with anger as he told of the Queen’s plot and the evil task she had forced upon the Hunter. They were filled with loathing for the Queen and sympathy for the poor Hunter.

         They welcomed him to stay as long as he needed and promised to keep a lookout for the Hunter and his family. They spent most of the morning fussing over him, flirting and blushing as they fluttered around the cottage, finding any little reason to be near him. He listened to their stories; laughed or clapped as needed and he found he was already very fond of them. The one thing they would not tell was their names. They would only laugh and say it wasn’t proper.

         “Be wary of any strangers, and stay inside as much as you can, if the Witch discovers the Hunter’s ruse, she will try again.” Each stood on tiptoe and kissed his masked cheek. They blushed, grinned or winked, each according to her nature.

         “We must be off, but worry not, we shall return.” With that they were out the door and giggling as they disappeared into the forest. None spoke of it, but each felt the first tendrils of new love growing in her heart.

         Coal Black spent the day in the barn, practicing with his bow and a wooden stick in place of a sword. He had to figure a way into the castle to confront the Queen. The Hunter and his family were his only remaining friends and he meant to see them safe, or die trying. His lust and vanity had driven away any others who might have been allies, and without gold he could not even hire sell-swords.

         That very evening the Hunter returned to the castle and presented the stag’s heart to the Queen. She showered him with praise and gave him a bag of gold and the key to the cell where his wife and daughter waited. In all haste the Hunter freed them and without a stop he saddled three horses and they rode into the night. The Hunter took them to a Trapper’s camp and left them safely hidden. Trading the gold for two swords and two sets of armor, he rode as fast as he could toward the forest.

         The Queen ordered a great feast be served and when the food was eaten and the drinks drunken she sent the tumblers and jugglers, dancers and contortionists, musicians and storytellers away. Beaming with happiness the Queen came to her room and sat before the mirror with a confident smile.

         “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?”

         “You, oh Queen, are fair, ‘tis true, but Coal Black is fairer still, than you.”

         The Queen’s smile disappeared as a scream of pure rage contorted her face and brought every guard running.

         “Find the Hunter and his wretched family. Force him to watch as you cut the hearts from his wife and daughter. Then hang him in the village as a warning to any who would defy me.”

         “Yes, your Majesty!” they shouted in fear as they leapt to the search.

         The Queen shook with anger. She raged and fumed, cursed and fussed until her ire was a white heat burning in her heart. She decided then and there to find Coal Black and kill the boy herself. Using dark magic and tricks learned from forbidden books, she disguised herself as an old woman. She filled a peddler’s pushcart with mismatched armor and knick-bladed old swords, field glasses and quivers of colorfully feathered arrows and all manner of odds and ends likely to catch the eye of a young man desiring revenge. The very next morning she departed, and once outside the gates she stopped.

         “Compass, compass seeker of desire, point to he who feeds my ire,” she hissed to her magic compass and watched as the needle swung north and west. When she reached the forest the next day, the disguised Queen made her way to the clearing, pausing at the edge of the forest to watch. She grinned wickedly as she watched a cloaked figure walk from the barn to the cottage, his flimsy disguise amused her. Sneering, she dipped a fingernail into a small black vial and pushed her cart across the clearing. She knocked timidly and when Coal Black opened the door she spoke. “Won’t you look through my wares?  Like as not I’ve got something you need.”

         Coal Black’s eyes went straight to the swords and as he slid one from its sheath she scratched his hand with the tip of her long, claw-like fingernail.

         “Oh my, I am so sorry young man,” the Peddler said, but as Coal Black’s eyes closed and he fell to the ground, she cackled and strolled away with a sinful sway.

         The dwarfs found him and one pulled the stopper from a small red flask and poured a silvery liquid over the scratch. In moments his eyes opened and he began to recover.

         The Queen rushed back to the castle. With a grin and evil certainty she gazed into the mirror:

         “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who now is the fairest one of all?”

         “You, oh Queen, are fair, I will not deny, but Coal Black is fairer, I cannot lie.”

         The Queen’s anger blazed as she realized her plans had failed again. She called out the guards, all ninety and nine. “The Prince has poisoned the King and gone into hiding, waiting for his father to die.” She proclaimed as she opened the armory. “Each of you take one of these swords, but draw it only when we have found the Prince. Beware, for the slightest cut is death.” Many shook their heads, but none refused. She rode beside the marching men, following the compass toward Coal Black.

         Meanwhile, back in the woods, the dwarfs made Coal Black comfortable in a chair and then stood nervously, all in a line. One by one they curtsied and spoke.

         “I’m Sterope.”

         “I’m Merope.”

         “I’m Electra.”

         “I’m Maia.”

         “I’m Taygeta.’

         “I’m Calaeno.”

         “I’m Alcyone.”

         “We love you,” they said in unison as they held each other’s hands. At their words his scarf turned to shadow and was gone. “We must go to our father this day, but by evening we shall return.” With a kiss each they departed.

         Late that afternoon the Queen ordered her men to surround the clearing.

         Coal Black and the Hunter emerged from the cottage, arrows knocked.

         Before he could speak, the Queen screamed, “Kill him now! A thousand gold coins to whoever brings him down.”

         Coal Black and the Hunter loosed arrow after arrow, but in moments the men were upon them. The two drew swords, knowing that they could not hope to hold against so many. They stood back to back, blocking with all their might, unable to attack.

         Of a sudden there sounded a brash horn and seven small figures dashed into the clearing. They were dressed in silver armor and each flourished a short, shiny sword. They moved like lightning, dancing with deadly grace. With a slash and a turn, a riposte and a jig, they cut the men down and surrounded the Queen.

         Alas though, as they moved to chain the Queen, Coal Black fell. One of the men had managed to give him a single shallow cut along one wrist. The Queen grinned, tossed something to the ground and disappeared in billowing smoke.

         The Queen’s delight knew no bounds as she sat in her room, her eyes drinking in her own reflection:

         “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?”

         “You, oh Queen are, the fairest one by far.”

         Weeping bitter tears the dwarfs placed Coal Black on one of the beds and carried it solemnly to a small glade. There they arranged the bed so that the moon’s pale light fell fully upon him. They knelt there beside the bed, tears glistening on every cheek.

         Moonlight gathered and grew brighter until a woman made of silvery light stood at the foot of the bed. She smiled sadly, “There is a way to save him, but the cost is dear.”

         The seven sad girls looked up with a glimmer of hope in their eyes. “Tell us!” one demanded and another added, “Please.”

         “You dwarfs have remained in this age of man, but the same magic that keeps you young, if given with love, can save yon Prince.” She waved a hand and moonlight surrounded him. “It will take all seven, I’m afraid and you will lose your immortality.”

         “How,” one said with fierce conviction, echoed quickly by the others.

         “Why, simply whisper your true name in his ear and kiss him with True Love in your hearts.”

         They did not pause nor weigh the cost. Each knelt, whispering softly before kissing him. When the last kiss was done, they fell to the forest floor. The Moon Maiden vanished with a last sad smile.

         Coal Black somehow knew what they had done. He arranged them on their beds, his heart breaking from the weight of grief and the deep, aching love he felt for them. He whispered, “I love you,” as he kissed each one. When he kissed the last one, their bodies shimmered and changed, becoming taller, though their beautiful faces remained unchanged.

         As they roused, his great heart soared.

         That same day the wicked Queen sat in her chair:

         “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?”

         “You, oh Queen, are more than fair, but Coal Black is the fairest, I must swear.”

         The Queen shrieked, she raged and fumed, she tossed things about and cursed, she screamed and stormed and in her anger she broke a small doll made in the likeness of the King.

         The King’s senses cleared and he found the Witch-Queen in her fury and clapped his hands around her until the guards found chains. He had her taken away and locked in a distant tower. She spent the rest of her days locked away, with no company other than her magic mirror.

         As for Coal Black, he married the seven beautiful women and they all lived happily ever after.