The King's Honour

Chapter 1

The King's Honour

By JL Merrow

One bright, clear morning in early summer, a fair young man walked through a forest that lay before a castle. He was dressed as a soldier, and a fine figure of a man he was: his back was straight, his countenance handsome, and his weapons shone like the sun. It so happened he came upon another young man chopping wood in a clearing, his slender, bare back glistening with the sweat of his honest labours.

Feeling a sudden desire to rest his feet a while, the soldier laid down his arms and seated himself with his back against a tree. He watched the young woodcutter at his work, admiring the play of muscles under tanned skin and the easy strength of his motions.

The woodcutter began presently to feel a prickling sensation upon the back of his neck, as so often happens when one is observed. He placed his axe upon the ground and turned with a ready smile. “Good day to you, sir,” the woodcutter said, mopping his brow with one well-shaped forearm.

“And to you too,” the soldier replied. “Can you tell me if I am on the right path for the king’s castle?”

The woodcutter regarded him thoughtfully. “Aye, that you are. But what would you be seeking there? We are not at war, so the king has no need of an army.”

The soldier smiled. “I have a mind to try my luck at the mystery surrounding the king’s daughters.”

The woodcutter nodded his dark head at the soldier. For indeed, a great mystery surrounded the royal princesses, and the story was known throughout the land.

The king of that land had twelve beautiful daughters, each of them fairer than the flowers in spring or the trees in autumn. And although his people thought him blessed for this, the king himself thought it a curse, for his daughters loved nothing more than to dance. They would dance, if they could, every night from dusk to dawn. The king, who did not approve of such licentious behaviour, grew stern. He berated the princesses for their lack of regard for their family’s honour, and gave orders that each night they should be locked up in their room.

At first the princesses wailed and cried, but soon enough they grew placid and agreeable, and the king began to think his family’s honour was saved. But then the servants began to whisper amongst themselves, and at last word reached the ear of the king himself: somehow, the princesses were going out dancing every night. For each night, the twelve princesses retired to their room wearing twelve pairs of soft new shoes, and each morning, the maid found the shoes lying carelessly upon the floor, their soles worn right through from dancing.

The king’s rage and despair upon hearing this was both terrifying and pitiable. He called each of his daughters to him in turn; each protested her innocence and professed herself unable to account for the state of the shoes.

In desperation, the king issued a proclamation: Whosoever might discover the secret of where the princesses went to dance would receive a marvellous reward: he would gain the hand in marriage of the princess of his choice, and live in the castle, and be king hereafter. But any who tried in vain would be put to death, for his attempt would of necessity involve spending the night with the princesses, and if he were not to marry one of them, the king’s honour would not allow him to live.

There were many young men in the kingdom, it seemed, who desired to marry a beautiful princess, and live in the castle, and be king hereafter. But none of them succeeded in the task, and they were all of them put to death.

And the princesses continued to dance merrily until the dawn, every night.