The Brute, the Hero and the Maiden
Being a folk-tale of Tarena and Seelht, as recorded for the benefit of posterity by me, Eskar, in this year 498 RM
Some time ago, in a land neither distant nor near, there was a town. It was in most ways an unremarkable town: though there was the odd miscreant and rogue among them, the people tried to live simply and virtuous lives; and though from time to time crops failed or storms raged or sickness spread, the people continued on as best they could, and cared for those in need and recovered what they lost. On of this town there lived a crofter and his wife, and though they were very poor they made do with their lot and were happy. Their only great sorrow was their lack of children. Year after year, though they hoped greatly, no child appeared to complete their family. But the crofter and his wife did not despair or grow bitter, and continued to live simple, happy lives despite the gap in their hearts. So things continued for some years, so that they had almost given up hope, until at last the crofter and his wife were blessed with a daughter, who filled their lives with new joy and whom they loves and cherished greatly. Alas, soon came a winter that was hard and cruel and as the snows covered the land and the animals died the crofter could not afford to feed his family. But so deep was their love for their daughter, the crofter and his wife sacrificed their meals to feed her, and tried to hide their predicament from her. And though the crofter and his wife grew weaker, their daughter remained hale, and the crofter hoped that the charity and mercy of the town would help them in their hour of need. When at last the winter ended and the snows melted the townsmen grew concerned, for they had not seen or heard of the crofter that spring, and so they sent the town reeve to investigate. The reeve came to the crofter's hut and went inside and found, to his horror, the frozen bodies of the crofter and his wife, and their daughter weeping inconsolably beside them. The reeve brought the daughter back into town and related to the people what he had seen, and the people – being, as I have said, mostly kind-hearted – were overcome with guilt and sorrow that they had not helped the poor crofter. And so they resolved then and there to always protect and care and provide for the crofter's daughter, so that they might atone, in some small way, for their negligence.
So the orphaned daughter was raised by the people of the town together, and learned from each of them something of their craft: of metals from the smith, of crops from the farmers, and of animals from the herders. And the daughter grew up beautiful and kind and wise, and the town was surpassing proud of their adopted daughter. As the girl reached adulthood her extraordinary goodness and wisdom became apparent to all: when the farmer's crops failed the girl came and helped him and the next year he prospered beyond his dreams; when a sickness spread in the town the girl went among the sick and advised them to eat certain herbs and they were healed. Seeing these apparent wonders many among the townsmen wished to elevate the girl as a benign spirit and shower her with gifts, and some wished to cast her out as a sorceress. But the girl was modest and kind and refused the gifts and the adulation, telling the townsmen “I have worked no wonders, but only helped you do that which you always could, as you have always helped me,” and so the town decided neither to drive her out nor elevate her, but only to listen and respect.
And so for some time the town exceedingly peaceful and prosperous, and the girl happy and beloved by all. Then one day an outsider came to the town, a giant brute of a man, covered in scars and weapons in equal measure, who glowered frightfully at the townsman as he passed, so they recoiled in instinctive fear and revulsion. It emerged that he had heard tales of the town and its prosperity and come, or so he said, to seek solace and refuge after a weary and violent life, and he asked if such might be found here. And so the townsmen spoke proudly of the girl and all that she had helped them accomplish, and as they spoke a look of dull cunning passed through the brute's eyes, and then a look of grim determination, fearful to behold.
Not long after the coming of the brute there was in the night a frightful commotion at the house of the girl, a small, simple, homely home. A clashing and a crashing and a screaming so that the townsmen feared to enter and investigate. At last dawn came and the commotion subsided, and after a short while the brute emerged and declared to the people that in the night a band of ruffians had assaulted the girl, but that the brute, passing at the time by happy accident and hearing the girl's cries for help, had rushed in and, after a long and brutal fight, slain the attackers and rescued the girl. Further, said the brute, the girl, overcome by gratitude and love for her saviour, had decided then and there to marry him. Hearing all this the townsmen were incredulous, and muttered that they should attack the brute, for he clearly lied. But then the girl emerged from the house and, though with downcast eyes and an unreadable expression, confirmed the brute's account and proclaimed herself overjoyed to marry him. When some of the braver townsmen summoned the courage to peer inside the house, they saw a scene of destruction, the house town apart and covered from floor to ceiling in blood and entrails. Amongst the carnage they picked out, at length, some half-dozen bodies of men they faintly recognized: hunters and trappers, not common sights in the town, but neither men they would have suspected of harbouring any ill-will towards their dear girl. “Well,” they said, “there is no accounting for the deeds of those strange men in the woods. The girl confirms his story and we see here the proof of it. We should then be grateful to the brute.”
The very next day the brute and the girl were wed, and though it should have been a joyous occasion some said the girl's smile seemed empty, and that when none were watching she looked sad. And thereafter things were never quite the same in the town. Where before any might freely ask the girl for advice or counsel or just conversation, now the brute decided who might and might not, for he claimed that he had to protect her from those among the people who meant her harm. As proof of their pure intentions, the brute began to ask for gifts from those wishing to see the girl. First these were just food or clothes, that had always before been given out of gratitude and love, but later they were gold and jewels and precious things, and later still the brute began to demand oaths of service and obedience from those he now called petitioners, who had before been simply friends and companions. As time wore on the brute demanded more and more tribute, and the girl's aid was provided less and less, for the brute said there were many evil men constantly trying to harm the girl. On those increasingly rare occasions when the girl was seen outside the great house at the center of town that she shared with the brute – for the brute had soon insisted that the town construct for the girl a house befitting her importance, and the homely house sat now abandoned – some noticed that she seemed ever more tired and sad and different from the girl they had known and adored for so many years. But they told themselves not to worry, saying “she has so many burdens, caring for us all while being hated by those jealous of her; it is no wonder she should be tired, and we are lucky the brute is here to protect her”.
Eventually the brute almost stopped granting the girl's aid entirely, and as crops failed and sickness spread the town despaired, and came to the great house at the center. There the brute emerged and chastised them, saying that their fealty and obedience to the girl had been insufficient, and so she had withdrawn her boons and intended to depart forever, and that if she were to change her mind the town must never again disobey the girl's wishes, as transmitted by the brute. And the town readily agreed, for at this point they just wished their beloved girl returned to them, and so thereafter the brute ruled the town as a tyrant from the great house in the center, and though the girl's aid was still granted exceedingly sparingly and only at great cost, and though those deemed – by the brute, of course – to threaten the girl or her guardian met grisly fates at the hands of the brute and his henchmen, the town convinced itself that things were as they should be, for at least the girl was not lost to them.
This was the state of affairs when there arrived in the town another outsider, quite different from the last. This one was a brave and bold young man from a distant land, in search of adventure and fancying himself a hero. Like the brute he too had heard of the beauty and goodness of the girl and the prosperity and happiness of the town. But when he was arrived he was surprised and dismayed, for the townsfolk went about with bowed heads and fearful expressions, and seemed on the brink of starvation rather than rich. The hero wondered how this could be, and sought out the girl to ask her what had happened. He asked a passerby where she might be found, and was directed to the center of town. “But,” he was warned, “you will not see her, for the brute guards her well against those with evil in their heart.” But the hero dismissed such counsel and so came to the great house in the center, and though he was indeed brave and bold he quailed a little at the sight, for the great house had attained a fearsome aspect, festooned with spikes and covered with the bodies of those who had threatened the girl. But the hero, being young and resilient and remembering that adventure was not always fair to look upon, recovered quickly and so marched to the door and asked to see the girl. The guards at the door, men who had sworn themselves to the brute, laughed and told the hero that the likes of him could never see the girl, and to leave lest he rouse the ire of the brute. The hero departed, more than a little dismayed – for although he was brave and bold he was not stupid, and he knew he could force his way into the great house against the brute's many guards – and went to find food and shelter, and so arrived at a nearby inn. In the common room of the inn he heard more and more the history of the town, and the deeds of the brute, and as he listened he became first indignant and then angry and then furious, until he burst out to the crowd, asking them how they could tolerate the brute's tyranny and why, since they proclaimed to love her so, they had not rescued the girl from his clutches. Some among the crowd hushed him nervously: did he want to so anger the girl that she had the brute take her away forever? But the hero was not quiet, and boldly announced his intention to confront the brute in the morning and demand answers for his tyranny. On hearing this, some among the crowd, whether out of fear or the hope of reward I cannot say, slipped away into the night, and went to tell the brute in his great house at the center of town. The brute smiled a terrifying smile and resolved to destroy the impudent hero, and make a show of it, and thereby secure his rule for all time.
So it was that when the hero went to the great house in the center of town he found a great crowd assembled and the brute and his henchman waiting, the girl standing silently behind them on the steps of the house. As the hero approached the brute roared out to the crowd “This man has come to silently slay our beloved. We are blessed, though, for my dearest wife saw him coming in a dream, and so I am here to stop the fiend. Watch as I cut down his evil.” The hero replied defiantly “It is not I who hates the girl but you, you who have locked her away and made her the object of fear of tyranny. Now I know why fate has directed my path to this place: my task is to free her from you.” “Such lies he speaks. Shall I cut out his lying tongue for you before I end him, my beloved?” the brute asked the girl. Though the girl did not look up, nor did her expression change from that of fixed melancholy, she gave a small nod. And at that the brute roared and advanced on the hero, who drew his sword and raised his shield and readied his stance. And though they could see his sword was sharp, his courage unshakeable and his heart true, the town could also see that the brute, with his great sword that no two ordinary men could wield, towered over him, and they knew the brute had slain very many brave men in his time. Still, they stayed to watch, perhaps out of a resigned fatalism, who can say? The brute drew his sword and launched a brutal strike at the hero, and as one body the crowd looked away, expecting the hero to be cut in half. But the hero, moving with more speed than they could credit, dodged the blow and cut the brute on the arm. Though it was only a shallow cut the brute cried out in fury and surprise, before lashing out again and again with titanic blows. But however fiercely the brute struck he could not catch the hero. Some blows he parried, some he dodged, and one he caught on his shield – after which he had to cast aside the shattered shield – but not one blow connected with the hero, while cuts accumulated on the brute. On and on the fight went until the sun was high in the sky and the brute covered in sweat and blood, though the hero seemed nearly as spry and clean as when he arrived. Finally the brute resolved to overpower the hero and end the fight with one irresistible blow. He gave a great cry and lunged forward, forcing the hero to scramble away until his back was against a wall. The brute shouted in triumph and thrust, intending to spit the hero like a pig. But the hero slid away, slipped in close and thrust his own sword deep into the brute's heart, and the brute fell dead at his feet, an expression of profound surprise on his ugly countenance.
Then a great hush fell across the square, for the town was too shocked to respond. The brute's henchmen at last began to rouse themselves, perhaps to kill the hero in vengeance for their master, when the silence was broken by laughter, high, clear and joyous. Hearing this all turned to the back to the great house at the center, and there they saw the girl smiling radiantly and joyfully, and it occurred to them that they could not remember last time they had seen her happy. The girl rushed down from the great house, ran across the square, jumped over the brute's body, and hugged the astonished hero tightly. Then she turned to the crowd and told them of the virtual captivity in which the brute kept her, of the terrible threats that kept her from speaking – not against the girl, for she feared not pain, but against the townsmen whom she could not bear to see suffer – and the watch, day and night, that kept her from fleeing, of how she had despaired of ever escaping until at last, at the edge of the hope, the hero arrived and liberated her. Hearing this many in the crowd wept bitter tears, that they had let their beloved girl suffer so. But the girl comforted them, telling them that they had been deceived by the brute, and he alone bore responsibility, but that with him gone they should think not of the past, of recriminations and mistakes, but only of restoring the town to its former happiness. Hearing this the town gave a great cheer, and the brute's henchmen threw down their arms and joined the crowd, where they were met with open arms.
In the days and weeks that followed joy returned to the town. At the request of the girl the great house at the center – with all its memories of pain and tyranny – was torn down and in its place a town commons created. The girl lived once again in her homely house, modest and comfortable, and once again happily helped any who came to her for aid, demanding neither payment nor obedience. The hero stayed in the town for a while, as he said that he wanted to make sure they did not fall back into old habits before he left to continue his search for adventure. But somehow he always found some reason or other to delay his departure and to spend time with the girl, until at last he realized that he loved her and that a life with the girl would be all the adventure he could ever want. And so he decided at last to stay, and the hero and the girl were eventually married in a genuinely joyous celebration. So the town, through its own efforts and the help of the girl, recovered and even exceeded its previous happiness and prosperity, while the hero ensured that never again would the malevolent exploit the wisdom and goodness of the girl. The girl and the hero lived together simply in the homely house, beloved and respected by all, and they loved each other very much, and they all lived happily ever after.
I approve.
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