THE PRACTICAL PRINCESS and Other Liberating Fairy Tales (4 page)

“Suppose I were to blow it four times?” asked Prudence. “Try not to do so,” said her mother, gravely. “For if you do, it will make a sound shrill enough to shatter glass, and the whistle will be broken.”

So off Prudence went to make her way in the world, with nothing but the clothes on her back and the silver whistle in her pocket. She traveled for many a day and many a mile, and at last she came to a house that stood on four legs in the middle of a wood. The house turned round to face her, and out came an old witch. She was as dry as a winter leaf, and had only a few brown teeth.

“What do you want?” said she.

“I am making my way in the world,” said Prudence.

“Have you any work for me?”

“Plenty of work,” cackled the witch. “And a silver penny on the first day of every month if you do whatever I ask.”

“I don’t mind,” said Prudence. “It will make a nice change.”

She became the witch’s servant, and if the work was hard it was also interesting, for the witch did magic from morning to night, and there were always plenty of visitors. Whenever Prudence was lonely, she blew her silver whistle and talked to a bird, a bee, or a beast.

One day, a messenger from the king came through the forest. He had a proclamation which he had been commanded to read in every corner of the kingdom.

It said:

On the thirty-first day of May, Prince Pertinel is to
be married. Therefore, all the maidens of the land
are to come to the palace so that the prince may
choose the one who suits him best, to be his bride.

Signed, King Quither V.

“Very good,” said the witch. “I have a mind to be chosen. For there is a nothing I’d like better than to be a princess, and someday queen.”

“Dear me,” said Prudence, and she couldn’t help chuckling. “It seems to me that you would have even less of a chance than I, for if I am plain you are perfectly hideous.”

“So you think,” retorted the witch. “But with the magical mirror of Morna I will win the prince’s heart.

For whoever looks into that mirror becomes more beautiful than the dawn of a spring morning. The spell lasts as long as the mirror lasts, and that will be long enough for me.”

“And have you the mirror of Morna?” asked Prudence.

“No,” said the witch. “But you are going to get it for me.”

“I am? Where is it, and how shall I get it?”

“It is kept in the treasure house of the Wazar,” the witch said. “And I don’t know how you are going to get it. But however you get it, it must be given to you freely or its magic will not work.”

“That doesn’t make things any easier,” murmured Prudence. “Where is the treasure house of the Wazar?”

“I don’t know that either,” said the witch. “All I know is that it is far to the south, in a land where the trees have leaves but no branches and where the ground moves when the wind blows.”

“I have never heard of such a place,” Prudence said.

“Well, are you going?”

“I don’t mind,” said Prudence. “It will make a nice change.”

She packed a loaf of bread and a piece of cheese in her handkerchief and put her silver whistle in her pocket. Then she said to the witch, “By the way, what exactly is a Wazar?”

“Nobody knows,” said the witch. “I wish you luck.”

Off went Prudence, traveling south under the great trees of the forest. She wandered for many days. She was chilled by the wind and made wet by the rain.

Sometimes she rested at inns or in the cottages of farmers. Sometimes she ate nothing but dry bread for her dinner and slept on the hard ground. Whenever she felt lonely, she blew her whistle and talked to a bird, a bee, or a beast. She remained as cheerful as she could, and journeyed on, looking for a land where the trees had leaves but no branches and where the ground moved when the wind blew.

After a time, she climbed a steep mountain and came down its other side onto a wide plain. The sun blazed overhead. There were tall trees with rough, scaly trunks and from their tops grew large graceful leaves like bunches of feathers. Underfoot, the ground was soft sand, and when the wind blew, the sand stirred and shifted.

“Ah,” said Prudence. “This must be the land of The Wazar.”

Not far away was a magnificent palace built of white marble. There were a thousand windows in its high walls. From a hundred spires and domes flew banners of red and gold. Prudence walked to the palace and stood before the gates.

They were wide open.

“I suppose that means I can go in,” she said.

She entered and found herself in a large hall. It was splendidly furnished but everything was covered with dust. Spider-webs hung from the ceiling. No servant came forward, and no guard stopped her. All was empty, silent, and dirty.

She passed through it into a corridor. She found a number of fine rooms, and all were as empty and as untended as the first. In the last room, seated on a chair studded with diamonds was a fat moon-faced man. He wore a tall red hat with a diamond on the front of it. His robes were embroidered with golden threads. Although the chair didn’t look very comfortable, he was sound asleep with his hands clasped on his round stomach.

Prudence cleared her throat. “Good day,” she said.

He opened one eye and then the other.

“I am looking for The Wazar,” she said.

“Then you can stop looking and go away,” said the man, closing his eyes again.

“Why do they call you
The Wazar
?” asked Prudence.

His eyes snapped open and he sat up. “Because I am the only one there is,” he answered. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m curious. What is a Wazar?”

“I am, of course. And now that we’re asking questions. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Prudence decided it might be better to say nothing about the mirror until she found out a bit more about The Wazar.

My name is Prudence, and I’m making my way through the world,” said she.

The Wazar stroked his ginger-colored whiskers.

“Hm,” he said. “I don’t suppose you’re looking for a job, are you? All my servants have run off and left me.”

“I don’t mind,” said Prudence. “It will make a nice change. Why did your servants leave you?”

“It is surprising, isn’t it?” said The Wazar. “I am one of the kindest, most generous men imaginable. I suppose they were frightened because my neighbor, Arbroag the Unpleasant, has threatened to destroy me.”

“Why should he do that?”

“Well,” said The Wazar, “we Wazars, as you may know, are fond of diamonds. And since I am the only Wazar there is, I am even fonder of them than anyone. I stole a tiny little diamond from Arbroag-it only weighed about forty pounds-and when he demanded it back, I told him in the quietest and friendliest way that he was a thick-headed pig-snouted ring-tailed guttersnipe. For some reason he became angry and put a curse on me.”

“I see,” said Prudence. “When does he plan to destroy you?”

“Tonight,” said The Wazar, gloomily. “And I haven’t even had my dinner.”

“Goodness!” said Prudence. “It doesn’t sound as though a job with you would last very long.”

“If you will work for me until sunrise tomorrow,”

said The Wazar, “and help me to escape from Arbroag’s curse, I will give you whatever you wish from my treasure house. However,” he added, quickly, “you must let
me
choose what it shall be.”

Prudence laughed. “Very well,” she said. “What do you want me to do first?”

“First of all,” said The Wazar, folding his hands over his stomach again, “clean up the palace. It’s a mess.”

Prudence looked about for a broom.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” said The Wazar, “that part of the curse Arbroag put on me was that here no broom will sweep and no mop will mop. Now, you’d better get busy.”

For a moment, Prudence stood, just thinking. Then she took out her silver whistle and blew a blast on it.

In a twinkling, the air was full of birds. Hundreds and thousands of them came, flapping and chirping.

Their wings blew away the dust. The larger birds picked up the bigger bits of rubbish; the smaller ones took grains of dirt or spiderwebs. Then they flew off, and when they had gone the palace was clean.

The Wazar pointed to one feather which remained on the floor. “Not very neat,” he said. “And the noise of the birds has given me a headache. Now I’d like some dinner.”

He led Prudence to the kitchen. But before she could begin to cook, it grew dark. It was not the darkness of night, but a deeper darkness as if every light everywhere in the world had been blown out.

The Wazar’s teeth could be heard chattering.

“I can’t bear this,” he groaned. “Do something!”

Prudence tried to light a candle. But although it flamed up, it gave off only a tiny glow, like the faint glimmer of a distant star.

“I forgot to tell you,” said The Wazar, “that part of the curse Arbroag put on me was that when the darkness comes no lamp nor candle will give light.”

Prudence took out her silver whistle and blew two blasts on it. At once, millions of fireflies came from the desert. They swarmed in at the windows and hung in cluster in the air. All their shining bodies together were like bright moonlight.

Prudence soon had a fire going in the stove and was able to cook a fine stew. The Wazar wrapped his robe about him, sat down at the kitchen table and ate with a hearty appetite.

“It’s not exactly what I’m used to,” he complained.

“I would have preferred roast pheasant, sugared rose petals, and champagne. However, I suppose this is the best you can do.”

Prudence thought she could understand why all his servants had left him. She said nothing, however, but helped herself to some stew.

Then it began to grow cold. Frost formed on the windows and walls. Icicles hung glittering from the rafters. And the flames of the fire in the stove froze and stood fixed as if they were made of yellow glass.

“I forgot to tell you,” whispered The Wazar, “that part of the curse Arbroag put on me was that when the cold comes no flame nor fire will warm me. This is the end. Good-bye.”

“Nonsense!” said Prudence. “You hired me to save you and that’s what I intend to do.”

She took out her silver whistle and blew three blasts on it.

In at the door bounded a lion.

The lion uttered a roar, and out by the other door bounded The Wazar. The lion ran after him. All through the palace they went, in one room and out the other, up stairs and down, and every time The Wazar stopped to catch his breath the lion would snarl and chase him again.

He grew hot from running. Sweat dripped down his face and stained his robe, and his cheeks were redder than his hat.

When at last the sun rose, he was thinner than he had been but warm and still alive.

“Now,” said Prudence, “it is sunrise and I have done as you asked.”

“That’s true,” said The Wazar, peevishly, “but I have lost ten pounds and I’ve had no sleep. However, I forgive you, for as I told you I am a kind and generous man. Come along with me to my treasure house.”

The treasure house was heaped high with The Wazar’s collection of diamonds. Diamonds of all shapes and sizes lay there in dazzling heaps.

Prudence looked thoughtfully at a very fine green diamond which was about the size of a St. Bernard dog.