THE PRINCESS AND THE CURSE S.A. Martin The Princess and the Curse By S. A. Martin This is an adaptation of a Celtic myth. THE PRINCESS AND THE CURSE S.A. Martin © copyright December 2006, S.A. Martin Cover art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright December 2006 ISBN 1-58608-998-6 New Concepts Publishing Lake Park, GA 31636 www.newconceptspublishing.com This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence. THE PRINCESS AND THE CURSE S.A. Martin Chapter One Nolan Tremaine smiled as he strolled the cobblestone streets of his village of Baile Beag, headed for the White Ship Tavern, for he enjoyed whiskey, women, and a good time--not always in that order. Part of having a good time was relating his travels as a fisherman, and if he embellished his tales a little, so what? No one could call him a liar. He merely exaggerated a bit. Passing a fabric store and a shoe repair shop, he reached the tavern where a few men stood outside, talking about the weather and their crops. He exchanged greetings, since everyone knew him here in the village. He pulled at the heavy oaken door and stepped into the crowded room, filled mostly with men but also several women, all talking and laughing, drinking ale or whiskey. A few patrons were eating a late meal of mutton, boiled cabbage, and oat bread, apparently oblivious to the smoke of countless pipes that hung over the room like a fog. Nolan found an empty table and drew out a chair, smiling and nodding to the others he knew, which included just about everyone in the room. Aware that the evening was young and hopeful that others would soon join him, he didn’t mind sitting by himself for a short while, as long as he had company later. He loved people, whether friends or strangers. He ordered a shot of whiskey from Betha, the pretty, buxom barmaid whose favors he’d enjoyed more than once. She brushed his hand as she took his order, and when she returned a few minutes later, she bent low, giving him a good glimpse of what she had to offer, as if he could forget! He hoped this evening would bring more than a glass of whiskey. The door opened and a stranger stepped into the room, a tall man whose sun- bleached blond hair glinted gold under the lamplight. He had a commanding mien about him, like one accustomed to giving orders. He peered around the room, his gaze settling on Nolan. “Mind if I join you?” the stranger asked as he reached Nolan’s table and pulled out a chair. Nolan inclined his head. “Happy to have you. Don’t like sitting by myself.” “Neither do I.” The stranger sat down and caught the barmaid’s attention, gesturing toward Nolan’s whiskey glass. Soon he joined him in a drink. “So tell me,” the stranger said, “how do you spend your days?” Nolan grinned. “I see you’re a stranger in this village. Everyone knows I’m a fisherman. Got the biggest catch today you’d ever want to see. Why, I caught so many fish in my net, I feared my boat would sink.” “Is that so? Where do you fish to get such a catch?” Nolan gestured widely. “Miles and miles away, far out in the ocean, where sea monsters prowl the deep, and mermaids greet me from the rocky islands.” He grinned. “The mermaids and I have become very good friends, if you know what I mean.” “Is that so?” the stranger repeated. “Hmm, mermaids. How do you, uh, how can you--” THE PRINCESS AND THE CURSE S.A. Martin “We manage,” Nolan replied with a smile. “Ah, yes, those mermaids know how to please a man. They can hardly wait to see me.” He winked. “I give ’em what they want.” So intent Nolan was in telling his tall tales, the noise and laughter faded away, replaced by enjoyment in hoodwinking the man. From the corner of his eye, he saw occasional glances thrown their way, for visitors were rare in the village. He guessed that those nearest him were listening to the conversation. The stranger raised his eyebrow. “Does your wife know about these mermaids?” “Oh, I’m not married. Having too much fun as a bachelor.” When he did marry, he could support a wife very well, aye, could even afford a maid, for he’d saved much silver over the years, money he kept in a locked box under his bed. But marriage lay far in the future. “Sounds as if you live an exciting life,” the stranger said. He drank his whiskey. “But what if I told you I’ve been to Connachta and back? What would you say to that?” Nolan wanted to sink into the floor. He’d never heard of Connachta, but he’d walk the streets of Baile Baeg stark naked before he’d admit his ignorance. “So you’ve been to Connachta and back. Nothing special about that. I could sail there any day.” “Is that so?” the stranger said for the third time. “Well, next time you go, be sure to fetch the Blessed Bell of Bellarmine and bring the bell here. That will prove you’ve been to Connachta and back.” Nolan snapped his fingers. “Easy to do.” But where in hell was Connachta? And what in hell was the Blessed Bell of Bellarmine? “So can I assume you’re going to Connachta?” the stranger asked, not waiting for an answer. “When do you intend to return?” He gave him a cool smile, as if aware of Nolan’s dilemma. Excuses raced through Nolan’s head. “Depends on the weather.” He waved his hand airily. “I’ll not sail in a strong wind. Any fisherman worth his job knows better than that.” “Of course. Well, then. I shall be here at the next full moon. By that time, I’ll expect you to have returned.” He wagged his finger at Nolan. “But don’t forget to bring back the Blessed Bell of Bellarmine. In that way, I’ll know you’ve been to Connachta.” “You doubt I can bring the bell back?” A trace of belligerence crept into Nolan’s voice. “We’ll see.” The stranger smiled enigmatically. “If you bring the bell back, that will be proof enough. Shall we make a wager? If you don’t return with the Bell of Bellarmine, or if you don’t give up the bell to me, I shall tell everyone what a liar you are. I’ll take your boat, your net, everything you own.” Now you’ve done it, Nolan lamented. You’ve gone too far this time. But he’d never admit his mistake. By this time, he knew everyone around him heard their talk and would judge him by it. “Agreed! I’m a man of my word, as you’ll find out, soon enough.” He drained his whiskey glass with a flourish. “Well, then.” The stranger finished his own glass. He shoved his chair back and stood. “I’ll see you next full moon.” Shortly after, Nolan left and approached the men gathered outside the tavern, but none of them knew where Connachta was. He trudged home toward his empty cottage, his heart heavy. The sun was sinking in a blaze of gold and coral, a breeze ruffling his hair and THE PRINCESS AND THE CURSE S.A. Martin cooling his face. His booted feet scuffed along the dirt road, kicking up clouds of dust. Trees and bushes lined both sides of the road, here and there a cottage. The wind picked up, and a few faint stars twinkled in a sky that was rapidly turning from light blue to gray. So deep was Nolan in thought and misery, he jumped when an owl hooted from a tree limb, then he laughed at his foolishness. He bit his lip, and for a moment he considered forgetting about the challenge. He’d stay away from the tavern and let the man fret while he waited in vain. But no, he couldn’t reveal himself as a braggart and one who went back on his word, even if he didn’t know where Connachta was. When would he ever learn not to tell tall tales? And when would he learn to admit his ignorance? His skin chilled as he dwelt on his plight. He could hardly put out to sea when he didn’t know which direction in which to sail. He gazed up at the full moon, as if he could find an answer there, but was cheered by the fact that he had another month to complete his quest. A long time! Suddenly, he remembered a wise old man who lived on a hill in Tailitu, not far from his own house. This might be his last chance to discover where Connachta was, and if the old man didn’t know, then Nolan was out of luck, out of his house and all that he owned. In the distance, the hill rose above him, and soon he reached his destination. Stepping over boulders and thick tree roots, he climbed the steep incline, his long legs stretching, dislodging stones. The wise old man sat on a boulder at the summit, looking for all the world as if he’d been waiting for him. He wore a flowing black robe, his white hair ruffling in the wind, a mysterious air about him. He greeted Nolan with a nod and a smile. “Well, son, how can I help you? For it’s obvious you’ve come to me with a question.” “A question, yes.” He bent to brush the dust from his trousers and smooth back his hair, giving him time to think how he should phrase his query, for he suspected he couldn’t fool the man with subterfuge. “A stranger has challenged me to sail to Connachta and back, but I have no idea where the place is.” The old man stared at Nolan. “Connachta! A country on the other side of the world! So it doesn’t matter if you sail north or south. Whichever way you go, you’ll find it.” The other side of the world! Nolan swallowed. He wished he’d never met this stranger at the tavern, never bragged about the places he’d never visited, nor the mermaids he’d never seen. “How many days will it take to get there?” “Hard to say,” the wise man replied. “I’ve never been there myself. Depends on the weather, your skill in handling a boat, oh, man...
widez2