Deirdre's Tale
A hooded woman walked proudly through the town when a little girl ran up to her: “Lady, why do you wear a hood? It’s such a beautiful day. The sun’s shining and it’s not even windy.”
Deirdre smiled down at the child, “Well, little one, there are other reasons to wear hoods. I wouldn’t want to scare anyone with the way I look.”
A boy hearing those words ran close. “I want to see, I want to see.”
Deirdre shook her head. “I don’t think you should.”
He insisted, “If it’s scary, I want to see. And if it’s not scary, why hide yourself?”
Deirdre sighed. She knew she shouldn’t give in but she loved children and couldn’t help indulging them. “So be it.” she replied and pushed back the hood.
“Ooh!” said the boy. “You’ve got a horn like a unicorn. You aren’t scary at all! May I touch it?”
“What beautiful hair you’ve got!” exclaimed the girl. “I wish mine was as long and silky. And such a beautiful colour! I’ve never ever seen anybody with red hair! Doesn’t it burn you?”
Deirdre laughed. “No, my hair doesn’t burn me. And yes, you may touch my horn.” She bowed down so the boy could reach up to it.
But the little white horn with the golden point wasn’t the only thing that was odd about her. Her voice, sounding like that of an old woman, was at odds with her youthful face. But the youth of that face, however, was belied again by her old dark blue eyes. And her laughter was crystal clear, like the sound of silver bells.
Another child approached slowly. He looked shabby, the child of a poor family. Very shyly he asked: “My Lady, I’ve never seen one such as you…” He didn’t quite dare ask but she still heard the curiosity out of his half-formulated phrase. “Very well then,” she said with another smile, “I’ll tell you my tale. Come with me into the shadows of yon tree. Then I’ll tell you how I came to be as you see me now.” She gathered her skirts around her and sat down with her back to the tree trunk and looked around. Some more children had come to hear the tale and she waited till all had settled down before starting to talk:
“I was human once, a foolish girl, a bit older than you, who dreamed of adventures. I knew nothing of the world, nothing of warfare, little of weapons and concerning magic all I knew was just the handful of spells that the local wisewoman had been able to teach me. Well, foolish as I was I left home only with my dagger, a bit of food and the scant knowledge I possessed.” She closed her eyes for a moment in remembrance before she started to talk again.
“It was late at night when I came upon a girl tied to a tree who held a golden bridle. She was not really aware of her surroundings. I soon figured out she was not only drugged but also bespelled. Only when I heard the hunt I understood: she was to be the bait in a hunt for...” Deirdre gulped as her memory got a hold on me. “...a unicorn. The hunters meant to slay the beautiful beast and take her precious horn. The maiden should call the unicorn here and was bespelled to place the bridle onto her so the hunters could despoil the beast at their leisure. I bit my lips. What was I to do? I couldn't let them slay a unicorn. And yet I wasn’t powerful enough to break the spells holding her. And I had to be quick before the hunt came near enough to see me. Panic caught hold of me. What to do? Finally I had an idea: I hastily cut a hole into the bridle and hid myself, hoping it would be enough..."
At this point of her tale she looked around to see what effect the tale on her audience had. The children hang on her very word. She smiled slightly and continued:
“Soon the unicorn broke through the bushes. Her sides were flecked with sweat, and she was full of blood for the hunters had driven her with whips. But still she was beautiful! I fell into dreaming the moment I saw her. Fortunately I had already done all I could by breaking the bridle, for if the rescue had depended on my acting now, it’d have failed. I was completely unable to move. The unicorn ran towards the maiden who - spellbound as she was - lifted the bridle to chain the unicorn. I held my breath. Had my small action been enough? Maybe I could have done more! I certainly should have done more! I should have tried to break the girl’s bonds… Yes! The unicorn broke free, and delivered from the spell that drove her towards the maiden through the broken bridle, she ran off. I sighed with relief and fainted from the tension.”
As she recounted that, she blushed slightly. It wasn’t very heroic after all to faint but it was the truth. And if she was telling her tale – even if it was only to children – she would tell the complete und unadorned truth.
“Well anyway, when I woke, the hunters were gone. And so was the maiden. I'm sure they must have been angry and I hope they didn't hurt her. But much as I tried, I never could find out.” She bit her lips as she remembered she was talking to children and therefore shouldn’t speculate aloud on what might have happened to the poor girl. So she quickly continued with her own part of the tale: “As I tried to traverse the forest, suddenly the unicorn sprang out between the trees, stopping in front of me and said something. It took me a while to figure out it was the unicorn speaking.” She laughed again with that crystal clear laughter that sounded like silver bells. “I remember every word she said, as if it had been yesterday only: ‘Young maiden, I know it was thee who saved my life yesterday. Thou art very brave and I thank thee for my life. Ask anything of me, if it’s in my power to give, I’ll grant thee any wish you may have.’ Well, you all know unicorns are mages and I'd always dreamed of being a powerful mage, so that’s what I wished for. ‘I want to be mage as powerful as you.’, I said.”
She looked around at her listeners. “Today I know that my wish was foolish. There was but one way the unicorn could grant it to me, and this is not a way I'd willingly go again. It set me apart from my kind forever.” She said this with tears in her eyes. Oh, how much she longed to be a mere human again. She wondered if the children could and would understand. Yet, it was not a feeling she could properly explain, so she didn’t even try and instead finished her tale: “Well, the unicorn tried to persuade me to wish for something else, yet I wouldn’t let myself be deterred from it. And so finally she said with a sigh, ‘It is indeed a wish that I can grant thee. Foolish as it is and much as thou wilt rue the day thou made it and I gave it, I will grant it to thee.’ And...” Now she hesitated. She had intended to tell the full truth, the horrifying truth that it was a spell cast in blood. Three drops of the blood from the unicorn, three drops of blood from her, mingled with many herbs and water from a healing well made into a potion that both the unicorn and her finally drank, making blood sisters of them. But somehow now she had come to this point she still didn't quite dare say it. A unicorn's blood was sacrosanct. And moreover she couldn’t tell this to children. “And thus I became more than mortal – such as you see me now.”
|