By P.K. Silverson
© Copyright 2008
By The Author
All Rights Reserved
A long time ago, in a land of wealth and plenty, there lived a simple woodsman. As woodsmen went, the simple woodsman was a fine man. He was skilled at his trade, a trusted servant of the good and powerful King. He was, however, an unknown employee to the royal sovereign, having come to his position in a mundane way. He had answered a classified by applying in person at the castle’s human resources office. As a suitable fit for the opening, he was hired on the spot by a personnel clerk.
Every weekday morning, the simple woodsman rose with the sun, dressed in his simple woodsman’s uniform and took his simple, hearty breakfast in his simple woodsman’s hut. The simple woodsman worked in the vast, verdant wood. When the sun was high overhead, he took his simple lunch, and when he was done, he took a little nap. But he always woke promptly to resume his duties on time. Every day he finished his assigned tasks both in full and well.
Every weekday evening, the simple woodsman would return to his simple hut and fix himself a simple meal, usually a stew, using the trimmings of royal meat and royal vegetables given to him by royal hunters and royal gardeners in exchange for royal wood that somehow never became part of the royal inventory. For the simple woodsman was a fine man and skilled at his trade, but he was not stupid by any means.
At each week’s end, the simple woodsman would report unfailingly to the castle gate, where he was rewarded for his week’s work with a fair, if meager, wage. He would then repair to his simple hut for a quick, if simple, supper, then wash and change into his own clean, if simple, clothing. As darkness fell across the land, he would make his way into the village, where lights burned gaily in the tavern. There, he joined his friends and countrymen in fellowship and song.
In the tavern, there was a serving wench who was not quite a cut above the other young maidens in the village, but not short of average, either. The serving wench came to understand, over the passage of time, that she was more than just a little attracted to the simple woodsman. On each visit he made to the tavern, she cast longing glances in his direction as she went about her serving wench duties.
She made it her business to see the simple woodsman’s tankard was kept filled with good, cold ale from the best stock, even though he paid only for the house brand. When time and circumstance permitted, she would engage him in conversation, always keeping her eyes and ears open for the opportunity to make him aware she was willingly available for more personal service.
The simple woodsman enjoyed the special attentions of the serving wench. He took the teasing of his fellows good-naturedly when they suggested the two would make a handsome couple.
At the end of the simple woodsman’s first year of royal employment, he was summoned to the castle. Hat in hand, he presented himself at the front gate, where he was directed to the human resources department, the very same place he had come to a year earlier to be hired.
The receptionist at the front desk smiled cheerfully as he entered. Once he stated his business, she led him to a little room which held a table and two chairs. She asked him to take a seat and kindly offered him a cup of coffee. After he graciously declined, she left him there alone, closing the door behind her.
The simple woodsman waited alone, but not for long. Presently, the door to the little room opened and into it stepped the same clerk who had hired the simple woodsman to his job. The clerk was a mousy man, totally unsuitable for the outdoor life the simple woodsman lived. Since that was not his occupation anyway, it simply did not matter.
The clerk held out one hand to the simple woodsman, and they shook with acceptable brevity. In the other hand, the clerk held a small file of papers which he laid on the table as he took the seat across from the simple woodsman.
“Well, my good fellow,” the clerk spoke in a voice, weak as it was, filled with good cheer, “it is absolutely delightful to see you again. Tell me, how do you like your job?”
The simple woodsman stroked a broad hand against his stubbled chin before answering, “I like it just fine. It suits me.”
“So it seems,” agreed the clerk, opening up the small file of papers and examining them briefly. “You show up each day on time and do your job in full and well. My reports on you are most pleasing, which makes my job easy. It is my pleasure to inform you that His Royal Majesty, our good and powerful King, is most pleased with your service and commends you his best wishes. I might add that you will, I’m sure, find the extra pay you will receive henceforth most generous.”
Then the clerk smiled briefly, closed the small file of papers, and shook the simple woodsman’s hand once more.
“That’s it?” the simple woodsman was surprised.
“My dear fellow, I’ve just given you a raise. Isn’t that enough?” the clerk replied.
“I suppose it is,” the simple woodsman agreed.
“You know the way out?” the clerk held the door open for the simple woodsman. There was no mistaking their interview was over.
“I think I can manage, thank you,” the simple woodsman took to his feet and left.
Dazed by his unexpected good-fortune, the simple woodsman stumbled along the corridors of the castle, not quite paying attention to where he was going. He took a wrong turn near the front gate, zigging left when he should have swerved to the right. Soon, he was hopelessly lost in the unfamiliar maze of palace chambers. Because he wore the uniform of the royal woodsman, no one on the castle staff gave him a second look, if they gave him even a hint of a first look at all. Embarrassed by his own stupidity, the simple woodsman could not bear to stop anyone at all to ask directions.
So it was he came to the entrance of the royal quarters. Hearing the sound of hoofbeats clattering on cobblestones, the simple woodsman assumed he’d finally found the right direction. He opened a door just in time to see the royal coach pulling up.
Dumbfounded, the simple woodsman stood at still attention as the coachman reigned in his steeds. The brakeman halted the carriage. In an instant, the door of the royal coach was opened by a footman.
Out of the carriage stepped the single-most beautiful young woman the simple woodsman had ever seen…or would ever see again. Without so much as a second’s hesitation, the young woman flowed up the walk toward him. She was dressed in the finest silks. The soft hair streaming over her shoulders glowed in the sunshine.
She passed within a mere footstep of where he held fast by the open door. Her fragrance filled his head, intoxicating him in a way completely beyond his experience. She paused momentarily, turning to look at him. She smiled, and in her smile, the simple woodsman saw all the angels of heaven gathered for his singular pleasure.
Then, she turned her head and stepped inside the castle, and she was gone.
It took a moment for the simple woodsman to regain his breath and feel his heart start to beat again. He let go of the door he was holding and left the cool shade of the castle to be back out in the sun and the air where he belonged. He headed slowly down the road, back toward the vast and verdant wood. But questions nagged at him and desire pulled at him. Finally, he turned back to the castle and the coach still waiting by the door.
“Who was that wonderful beauty?” he inquired of the footman who had held open the carriage door.
“Mind your tongue, young fellow,” the footman warned. “The beautiful Princess might tolerate such insolence, but her father, our good and powerful King, certainly never would.
“And between you and me,” the footman added under his breath, “I wouldn’t trust too heavily on the daughter’s kindness either. The apple never falls very far from the tree, don’t you know?”
“That was the beautiful Princess?” the simple woodsman asked, stunned.
“The Serene Majesty her very self,” the footman nodded.
“Thank you,” the simple woodsman nodded, finally having regained enough sense to put his hat back on his head. “Thank you very much, indeed.”
And with that, the simple woodsman returned to the vast and verdant wood for he was a fine man, and skilled at his trade. The sun was still high overhead, but he had no appetite for his simple lunch. When he tried to take his little nap, he found he was not tired. His thoughts were filled with the sight and scent of the beautiful Princess. When it came time to resume his duties on time, he did. But his work suffered. He barely finished his assigned tasks on time, let alone well.
The same evening, the simple woodsman went home to his simple hut, grateful that the bean-counters at the castle were no wiser about the trimmings of royal meat and royal vegetables in his supper. But his thoughts of personal safety were soon swept away by his memories of the beautiful Princess. Sleep came slowly that night. When it did come, it was light and filled with tosses and turns.
At week’s end, the simple woodsman reported to the castle gate, where he was rewarded for his week’s work. As promised by the clerk, his fair, if meager, wage was a little fairer, a little less meager. But he found no joy in this good fortune. He repaired to his simple hut for his quick, if simple, supper. Then, he washed and changed into his own clean clothes.
As darkness fell across the land, he made his way into the village. The lights burned gaily in the tavern as he joined his friends. But while they drank and sang, he sat quietly in the corner by the fire, staring wistfully out the window toward the castle beyond the village.
“What say you, old friend?” a comrade asked, giving him a hearty slap on the back…one which would set most men’s teeth to rattling.
“I was given a raise this week,” the simple woodsman answered.
“I’ll drink to your good fortune if you would but fill my glass,” the comrade roared. “Wench, bring me some ale!”
The simple woodsman nodded to the serving wench that the bidding be done, then said quietly, “I was in the castle.”
“Of course you were, me hearty,” the comrade agreed. “You work for our good and powerful King. It stands to reason they’d have you up there to give you the good news.”
“That’s right,” the simple woodsman said. “And do you know who I saw while I was there?”
“Why, the beautiful Princess, I’d imagine,” the comrade said with a laugh. The friends around him joined in at this.” “It only stands to reason. After all, she lives there, don’t you know?”
Their laughter filled the room as the serving wench brought the ale around.
“I did go to the castle this week, and I was given a raise,” the simple woodsman stated simply. “And I did meet Her Serene Majesty, the beautiful Princess. She smiled at me.”
“Of course she did, Lad-a-Buck,” his friends agreed. “Why wouldn’t she. You are a fine, strapping young fellow. Any woman would fancy you. Just ask the wench.”
“That’s right,” the serving wench chimed in, “ask me. Or, better still, give me a chance to show you just how much any woman would fancy you.”
More laughter filled the room as the serving wench served the ale around.
“I went to the castle this week, and was given a raise along with the compliments of our good and powerful King,” the simple woodsman insisted. “And Her Serene Majesty, the beautiful Princess, smiled at me. I fell madly in love with her.”
“Oh, now there’s a healthy thought,” the serving wench said as the rest of the room fell into a deathly silence. “Her Serene Majesty, the beautiful Princess, has fools like you for breakfast everyday, don’t you know? Why, it’s common knowledge her father, our good and powerful King, is at his very wits’ end trying to find a husband to her. She’s out to find her special Prince, my fine woodsman. Any other man who’s had the nerve to ask her hand has found happiness at the end of her executioner’s axe.”
“That’s right,” all the good villagers agreed. “Forget about the beautiful Princess,” they urged, wanting only for his best interests to be served. “She’s not your type.”
But the simple woodsman would not be dissuaded. “If it’s a special Prince she’s hoping for, then I’ll see to it her dreams come true.”
The simple woodsman took his leave of his friends and the tavern. He went back to his simple hut to mull over what he had to do.
The next morning, the simple woodsman got up early. He skipped his simple breakfast to spend extra time washing and shaving. It was his sincere desire to be at his very best.
When the sun was up enough for the rest of the world to be stirring, the simple woodsman went into the village and presented himself at the finest clothing shop. He held out a bag of the money he’d saved working in the service of the good and powerful King. He bade the shop-keeper to show him the finest outfit his money would by. “I’m going to propose marriage to Her Serene Majesty, the beautiful Princess this very day,” the simple woodsman said, “and I want to look my best. No, I want to look better than my best. I want to look like the special Prince who fills the dreams of the one I love.”
The shop-keeper shook his head slowly. “She’s not your type,” was all he said.
“Everyone keeps saying that,” the simple woodsman answered in anger. “I don’t believe it. She smiled at me. I want the finest outfit my money can buy.”
“As you wish,” the shop-keeper said, leaving the simple woodsman waiting while he searched his back storage room for a special outfit which had gone unclaimed by an earl who’d lost his nerve while pursuing the hand of the beautiful Princess.
The suit proved a perfect fit for the simple woodsman. Even the shop-keeper had to admit it as he accepted a few coins from the woodsman’s savings for appearance’s sake. Even though the clothes were far more expensive than a mere royal employee could ever hope to afford, it didn’t matter. The wise earl had already paid for the goods in full before abandoning his quest for noble romance.
At last the picture of elegance and splendor, the simple woodsman made his way back to the castle gate. The royal gatesman, who only one day earlier had given him his salary, failed to recognize him. “Identify yourself,” the gatesman demanded.
“I am a suitor for the hand of Her Serene Highness, the beautiful Princess,” the simple woodsman answered, making sure to speak slowly and pronounce all the words carefully and with authority.
“Get in line with the others, second door to the left,” the gatesman waved him through.
Following instructions, the simple woodsman soon came upon two other men, both dressed in fine clothing, waiting by a solid door. He sized them up quickly with his eyes, and they did the same to him. Then it dawned on the simple woodsman…he already knew these fellows!
“Woodsman,” the first man in line cried in surprise, “what are you doing here?”
“I might ask the same of you, friend Hunter,” the simple woodsman answered, “or of how you came by such an exquisite suit.”
“But the answer would be the same, I fear, for all three of us,” the royal gardener, who was second in line, observed. “There’s no sense repeating it now, I suppose.”
And so the three royal servants stood and waited for the solid door to draw open. To pass the time, the simple woodsman remarked, “I was granted a raise this week.”
“So was I,” said the royal hunter.
“So was I,” said the royal gardener.
“That explains a lot,” mused the simple woodsman, and the three fell silent again.
After a while, the solid door swung open. A stern guard motioned for the three to enter, single-file. The hunter went in first, then the gardener, and finally, the simple woodsman. All three looked like royal Princes.
They were led to the foot of the good and powerful King’s weekend throne, upon which sat the good and powerful King himself. To his left sat an empty throne, because the Queen liked to sleep in on Saturdays. On his right sat the throne of the beautiful Princess, and Her Serene Highness was present in all her beauty and splendor. The simple woodsman felt his breath leave his body, perhaps never to return.
“What business do you have with me?” the good and powerful King demanded of the first man in line.
“I wish to propose to your daughter, Sire,” the hunter replied, adding, “with your kind permission,” of course.
“Everybody has my permission on that, good sir,” the good and powerful King assured him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Her Serene Highness is the most beautiful creature in the entire world, Your Majesty,” the hunter answered. “Any man would be most fortunate to be granted her favor. And without it, life is not worth living.”
“You speak very well, young man,” the good and powerful King smiled sadly, and the simple woodsman had to agree, because, in fact, the royal hunter had used just about every line the woodsman had prepared for this occasion.
“I wish you the best of luck,” the good and powerful King continued. “I really do.”
The royal hunter turned to the beautiful Princess and bowed deeply. His lips reached the toe of the thrones, and he kissed the feet of his declared beloved.
“Rise,” the beautiful Princess commanded, smiling serenely. “Who are you?”
“I am but a hunter in the employ of your good and powerful father,” the royal hunter admitted truthfully.
On his throne, the good and powerful King rolled his eyes in despair, but he said nothing.
The beautiful Princess continued to smile serenely. “What is it you wish of me?”
“I wish only the chance to prove my love, so that I may be worthy of your hand in marriage, Your Majesty,” the royal hunter pleaded eloquently. The simple woodsman wondered how the beautiful Princess could ever resist such an appeal. He doubted he would ever get the chance to present his own case.
“I shall grant you your wish immediately,” the beautiful Princess smiled without cease, and her beautiful face shined a warming light into every corner of the simple woodsman’s soul.
With a clap of her delicate hands, the beautiful Princess summoned forth her royal executioner, who took the hunter in hand and led him across the chamber to a stand next to a chopping block.
“You know I seek only a special Prince?” the beautiful Princess continued to smile serenely.
“I know this, but I would risk everything for your love,” the hunter answered bravely.
“I admire your courage,” the beautiful Princess told him sincerely. “Off with his head,” she commanded the executioner blithely, and her will was done instantly.
“I’m afraid you’re going to need a new hunter, Father,” the beautiful Princess told the good and powerful King.
“I only hope there is enough meat in storage until we get a replacement, my dear,” the King answered sadly. “I do wish you’d consider the consequences of your policy, darling.
“Next,” smiled the beautiful Princess.
“What business do you have with me?” the good and powerful King demanded of the second man in line.
“I wish to propose to your daughter, Sire,” the gardener replied, adding, “with your kind permission,” of course.
“Everybody has my permission on that, good sir,” the good and powerful King assured him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Her Serene Highness is the most beautiful creature in the entire world, Your Majesty,” the gardener answered. “Any man would be most fortunate to be granted her favor. And without it, life is not worth living.”
“You speak very well, young man,” the good and powerful King smiled sadly. “I wish you the best of luck. I really do.”
The royal gardener turned to the beautiful Princess and bowed deeply. His lips kissed the feet of his declared beloved.
“Rise,” the beautiful Princess commanded, smiling serenely. “Who are you?”
“I am a Prince from far away. I came many leagues seeking true love, and heard the tales of your beauty, Your Serene Highness. Now, standing here in your presence, I can see that the stories fall far short of the reality.”
The beautiful Princess continued to smile serenely. “What is it you wish of me?”
“I wish only the chance to prove my love, so that I may be worthy of your hand in marriage, Your Majesty,” the gardener pleaded, winking slyly at the simple woodsman out of the corner of his eye.
“Let me hold your hand,” the beautiful Princess said as she extended hers.
With a gallant flair the gardener took her lovely hand in his. Seeing this, the simple woodsman felt at the end of his hope. “Surely,” he thought, “I am too late. The beautiful Princess will choose the gardener. If only I had gotten here sooner.”
The royal gardener eagerly kissed the beautiful Princess’s delicate hand. The beautiful Princess never stopped smiling, but did not let go of his hand after he finished his kiss. Instead, she held his hand before her and examined it closely.
“This is not the hand of a Prince, but of a common laborer,” she decided. “You have been very bold in coming to me in this way. I admire that. I shall grant you your wish immediately. We shall test your love.”
With a clap of her delicate hands, the beautiful Princess summoned forth her royal executioner, who took the gardener across the chamber to a stand next to a chopping block.
“Off with his head,” the beautiful Princess ordered serenely, and her will was done instantly.
“Next,” smiled the beautiful Princess.
“What business do you have with me?” the good and powerful King said with quiet sorrow to the last man before him.
The simple woodsman, who was a fine man and skilled at his trade, had seen quite enough. He was simply not used to the carnage which had taken place in the royal chambers.
“I was looking for the human resources department, Sire” the simple woodsman replied cautiously after clearing his throat. “You see, I am your royal woodsman. I was issued the wrong uniform for next week, it’s plain to see from the way I’m dressed.”
“I’ve seen you before,” the beautiful Princess interrupted.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the simple woodsman smiled hopefully. “I held the door for you when you arrived by carriage only two days ago.”
“Indeed you did,” the beautiful Princess nodded smiling.
The good and powerful King smiled and laughed. “I’m afraid you’re in the wrong place, my good man. But that is easily corrected. Just go right when you leave this room and continue down the long hall. I’m afraid our administrative departments aren’t open today, however. You’ll have to come back during the week to rectify this mistake.”
“Thank you, Sire,” the simple woodsman bowed grandly and took his leave.
“Now there goes a sensible young man,” the good and powerful King said. “I wish there were more like him.”
The beautiful Princess agreed, still smiling. “He’s very special. Too bad he’s not a real Prince.”
Feeling fortunate to have escaped with his life, the simple woodsman made his way back to the village. Too shaken to sit home alone, he went into the tavern, hoping a tall ale would help steady his nerves.
The serving wench saw his distress the moment he entered. All his robust coloring, his deep and healthy tan from days spent outdoors in the vast and verdant wood, had been scrubbed from his face. The contrast was even greater against the colorful background of the elegant suit he had on.
The pale complexion and unaccustomed costume was all the serving wench needed to know what had transpired. She recognized her opportunity and seized it in an instant.
To settle the simple woodsman’s stomach, she brought forth the finest cut of roast from the tavern’s kitchen for his lunch. To calm his nerves, she placed ale before him without cease. All the while, she spoke to him in soothing tones.
The simple woodsman was a fine man and quite skilled at his trade. He was also not stupid by any means. Soon enough, he realized there was a great prize set before him. Without hesitation, he claimed it, proposing marriage to the wench the very same day he nearly lost his head over a beautiful Princess.
There was great joy in the village when the news was announced. The wedding took place within a month. The woodsman went back to his job a happy man, toiling long and well in the royal wood while earning acceptable reviews and fair raises on an annual basis. The money came in handy in helping to raise the four new subjects the simple woodsman and his wife produced for the kingdom.
Many years later, when the aging King was no longer so powerful, the castle came under siege from a band of mighty rivals. To save his land, the good and once-powerful King promised the hand of his daughter, the once-beautiful Princess, to the leader of a force of renegade knights in return for peace.
The bargain was sealed when the ruthless knight betrayed his comrades to the loyal forces of the good and once-powerful King. The uprising ended in a quick bath of blood. To celebrate the victory, the marriage of the ruthless knight and the once-beautiful Princess was arranged immediately.
For her part, the once-beautiful Princess seemed convinced that everything had transpired for the best. Indeed, she was very impressed with the special authority of her husband-to-be, regardless of having seen handsomer toads in the royal zoo.
After several hours of intense personal introspection, a chocolate malt and a pizza with all the trimmings, she talked herself into falling in love with him.
Throughout the castle, the nobility whispered about how the once-beautiful Princess had not only met her special Prince, she had also met her match.
The good and once-powerful King proclaimed his daughter’s wedding day to be a holiday for all the kingdom. Except for royal caterers and the evening news crew, everyone got the day off, including the simple woodsman, who spent the day quietly with his wife, reflecting on how well everything had turned out.
The day of the wedding arrived, and a fit day it was. Singers sang, dancers danced, preachers preached and bells rang. The sun shined, the birds sang, and all seemed well. But the festive occasion was marred when, on the very evening of the wedding, right after the ceremony, the old King was found dead in his bed chamber.
Rumor held that while he was preparing for the wedding feast, he had fallen on his ceremonial sword.
Of course, this made the once-beautiful Princess Queen of the Kingdom. Her official coronation was held within days. Before the week was out, she had renounced the throne in favor of her new husband.
The once-beautiful-Princess-turned-ex-Queen was never seen at Court again, although the nobles were pretty sure she continued to occupy the castle in a remote dungeon. The truth was, however, that like her suitors before her, she had lost her head to love, courtesy of the executioner’s axe.
Moral: Just be yourself.
