Birthday Present — A Fairy Tale

A long time ago, in a land far across the sea, there was a girl named Justine. Justine lived in a village so small it didn’t have a name, and no one in the village thought that Justine was special. Justine wasn’t as smart as her friend Mary, who could divide complicated fractions. She wasn’t as good looking as her younger brother Brian, who had shimmering golden hair and pearly white teeth. She wasn’t as hard working as her older brother Seth, who spent long hours in the field.

Justine could never remember the names of all the Kings and Queens in history class. She had mousy brown hair, and she was missing one of her front teeth where a cow had kicked her. And when she was supposed to be mucking out the stable or helping to dig a new privy, Justine could be found in the hayloft having sword fights against an imaginary enemy — sometimes she even won.

Justine’s brother Brian wanted to be a sailor when he grew up. Her brother Seth was already a farmer. Everybody thought Justine would be a wife when she grew up, because she wasn’t good enough to be anything else — they even had a husband picked out for her! His name was Myron, and he was a year older than Justine. He liked to dig around in his nose and whatever he found, he ate!

Justine did not want to be a wife, and she certainly didn’t want to marry Myron. Myron was nice, even if he was a little gross, but Myron was boring. Myron was going to be a blacksmith, like his father, and his father before him. There wasn’t anything wrong with blacksmiths, she had to admit; after all, horses need shoes, and carpenters need nails. But Justine wanted to feel the wind in her hair as the King’s navy (or was it the Queen’s navy?) chased her pirate ship. She wanted to fight smugglers under the full moon. She wanted to explore the forgotten tomb of a heathen warlord. Justine wanted adventure.

One sunny day, after an especially tedious sermon, Justine and her friend Mary lay in the grass on the old lighthouse hill, talking about nothing in particular. The sky was bluer than the ocean, and the breeze brought a hint of salt with it. Salt…and something else. Mary was prattling on about something even less important than usual when she stopped suddenly.

“Did you hear that?” she asked. Justine, who hadn’t been paying attention, looked up with a guilty expression on her face.

“Huh? Sure, you said…” Justine’s lie was cut off by something very strange. The ground was shaking! It was a gentle shaking, but it went on for a long time — at least five minutes! Justine had never felt anything so odd.

“That’s really peculiar,” said Mary. “That felt like an earthquake, but we’ve never had an earthquake here before! I wonder what it could have been?” But Justine said nothing — she didn’t even have a wild guess what caused the shaking. All she knew was that she wanted to find out.

At home no one knew either, but they all had ideas. Father thought it was some new kind of cannon. Mother thought something might have fallen out of the sky. Seth had talked to Reverend Ted, who said it was the end of world. Brian thought a giant whale had slammed into the coast!

When Justine, Brian, and Mary went to school the next day, everyone had their own ideas, but Miss McKenna wouldn’t let anyone talk about it. It wasn’t a ‘suitable subject’, she said, and any ‘loose talk’ would be severely punished. But even Miss McKenna couldn’t stop people from noticing when it happened again, right in the middle of a Biology lesson!

At first there was a low rumbling. Justine heard it this time — everyone did. Even though she hadn’t heard it before, she knew what was coming. She looked over at Mary, who had a nervous expression on her face.

“It’ll be fine, Mary,” she said, grabbing her friend’s hand. “It’s just like the time we…” But then the quaking came, stronger and harder than before, and interrupted Justine again! She was beginning to get annoyed.

Miss McKenna had to send everyone home after that. All the books and supplies had fallen off the shelves, and it was going to take her hours to tidy it up. That’s what she said, anyway. Justine thought that Miss McKenna was just embarrassed about the inkwell she had spilled on her fancy floral dress.

Justine and Brian were still giggling about Miss McKenna’s dress when they got home. That’s when they heard a loud rumbling. Justine was worried : the first time this happened, there was a quiet rumbling, and a light shaking. The second time, the rumbling was louder, and the shaking was stronger. This time, the rumbling was really loud…

She opened her mouth to say something to Brian, and then closed it. As scared as she was, Justine was not going to be interrupted again! That was probably a wise choice, because the shaking started, and no one could have kept talking through the chaos that followed! The quake was much, much stronger this time! All the plates danced out of the cupboards, and smashed on the ground! Mother began shrieking as the floor itself cracked! Father’s old billhook, which had hung over the hearth for twenty years, clattered to the flagstones in front of the fireplace.

Justine and Brian fell to the floor and huddled there until the ground stopped moving. As they stood up, Brian wiped away his tears, but Justine hadn’t been crying. She was afraid, but she was also angry. This simply wouldn’t do!

When he came home that night, Father agreed. “Someone needs to do something,” he said. “Our crops will be fine, but what about the Smiths, down the road? I’ll wager their cows will be giving curdled milk tomorrow! What do we pay our taxes for, anyway? The government needs to do something!”

Father was right about one thing, Justine thought to herself. Someone does need to do something. But she didn’t think the government would be much help. After the old Johnson barn burned down last year, the government didn’t help the Johnson family make it through a bad winter, and they certainly didn’t help them rebuild — that was up to their neighbours. And when the stone bridge over the river collapsed, it wasn’t the government that put up a new, stronger bridge — everyone in the village pitched in. The government, in Justine’s eyes, had its hands full stopping pirates and keeping out invaders. If they waited for the government to solve this, they’d be waiting an awfully long time.

That’s when Justine made up her mind. That night, after everyone else had gone to sleep, she started gathering supplies. She took some cheese and bread from the kitchen, a needle and thread from Mother’s sewing box, and a length of rope from the barn. Before she left, Justine paused at the door, right by the fireplace. She got up on her tiptoes, and took down Father’s billhook, almost dropping it before she could get a good grip on the shaft. It was too long for her, but no one in the village even owned a sword, and every adventurer needs a weapon. “Someone needs to do something,” Father had said. Well, that someone was named ‘Justine’.

***

Dawn found Justine deep in the woods. The first two rumblings had been too quiet — she hadn’t been able to tell where they were coming from, but the third definitely came from the north. That meant she couldn’t take the road that led out of town, which ran to the east, passing through fields and over hills. Instead, Justine had to follow old hunting trails that ran through the Quivering Forest. People whispered that no one knew where all the trails ended, that men had found strange beasts, that the trees sometimes danced and reeled even on a calm day.

Mostly, Justine thought, those stories were nonsense. When old men got to talking and drinking moonshine, they’d say any old thing. Still, though, sometimes you wondered. Three years ago, her cousin Emily’s fiancé Josh had gone hunting in the forest with his friends, and only Josh had returned. His hair was all white, and he never spoke again. The wedding had gone ahead anyway, and Emily seemed happy enough, but it was still sufficient to ensure Justine kept a tight grip on her billhook.

As Justine walked, she took to counting birds. There weren’t as many of them in this part of the forest as there were back home, and some of them looked awfully strange. In the trees (which weren’t dancing, thank you very much) she saw one with an enormous yellow beak. She saw one whose left wing was much larger than the right. She saw one that was all bright red on top. She saw…a man?

There was a man standing in front of her, not moving or doing anything. Justine stopped, but she didn’t want to let on how surprised she was. She just stood there, watching. He was old, at least thirty, and he was wearing a tweed jacket. That meant he must be rich. Maybe he was the local squire?

Eventually, Justine grew tired of waiting, and ventured a tentative “Hello?”

The man grinned widely and replied, simply, “Hello!”

Justine gulped. This adventure was getting very real, very fast. “Are…are you the squire?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m not a squire. I’m a madman!” he said, still grinning.

“That’s nice,” she replied, nodding her head. “Our village had a madman, but he left because we couldn’t afford to pay him.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. Every village should have a madman. That’s how you differentiate a village from a wide spot in the road, you know.”

Justine nodded again, mostly just to keep this strange person happy. “Excuse me, but have you felt all this shaking? I’m trying to stop it, you see, and…”

“Oh, yes, of course! I know exactly where it’s coming from!”

Justine’s jaw dropped. She hadn’t thought it would be this easy! “Well, where is it?”

“Oh, no, no no, my dear! I can’t tell you! That would make things too easy. Where would the fun be in that, eh?” He grinned at her some more, as if to rub it in a little.

“Can you at least give me a hint? I know it’s somewhere up north, but that’s not exactly good enough, is it?”

“Certainly, my child,” he replied. “You’ll find what you’re looking for over the Symbolic Hills, through the Gorge of Metaphors, and beyond the Vale of Innuendo.”

Justine sighed to herself. This madman was obviously crazy. Still, it didn’t cost anything to be polite.

“Thank you very much, sir. I’m sure that will be very helpful indeed.” She curtsied, and walked past him. He was mad, but she was listening to him, so what did that make her?

***

After hours more of walking Justine came to a clearing in the woods. Just ahead of her there was a river. It was clearly too deep to ford, and she didn’t want to swim across, as that would mean getting her carefully-hoarded gear wet. She looked all around, and was pleased to see a suspiciously convenient boat on the shore, just a few meters to her right. As she jogged towards it, she was surprised, but not shocked, to see a tall man suddenly stand up behind the boat.

“Hello, young one,” he said. “I take it you wish to cross the river?”

Justine nodded. By this point, she had slung her billhook over her back, which she was regretting more than a little. Strange men who hide behind boats can’t always be trusted.

“You can use my boat if you wish, but I will need you to do something for me in return” he intoned.

More nervous than before, Justine carefully said “Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t. What do you have in mind?”

The man gestured down beside the boat. “As you can see, I have here a fox, a lamb, and a cabbage. I need to get all three of them to the other side of the river, but there’s only enough room in the boat for one of those three, along with one person. The fox will surely kill the lamb if they are ever left alone together, while the lamb will eat the cabbage. Despite my great intellectual powers, I have been unable to figure out how to manage this task. If you can solve my problem, then you may use my boat.”

Justine frowned. Something about this was all wrong. What kind of man owned a lamb and a boat, but couldn’t afford to buy another cabbage, or, for that matter, a cage for his fox? And as for the fox…hmmm.

Reaching over her head to grab her billhook, Justine knelt down and looked the fox in the eye. “See here, Mister Fox : I live on a farm. I know a thing or two about foxes. They’re terrified of people. No fox in the world would sit happily beside someone like you’re doing. I reckon you’re not just a fox, are you? So hear me well — if you touch one hair on that lamb, I’ll beat you ’til you can’t crawl, see, or cry.”

She tapped her hand with the billhook while giving the fox a meaningful look, and then turned to the lamb. “As for you, well, I don’t think any lamb would be willing to lie down beside a fox. I don’t like to repeat myself, so I’ll just say this : you heard what I told your friend there, and it all goes double for you and that cabbage.”

Justine straightened up, and looked the stranger in the eye. “I don’t reckon they’ll give you any trouble, Mister. Now can I use your boat?”

“Um, well…yes, yes, of course you may. Well done, lass.” He looked a bit embarrassed, and stared down at his animals.

Without another word, Justine hopped into the boat, and began to row across the river. As the current was quite weak, it wasn’t particularly hard, and Justine began to enjoy herself. She was about halfway across when the rumbling started. It was very loud this time, and Justine knew exactly what that meant. She started rowing as fast as she could, hoping to reach the shore before the shaking began.

She almost made it, too. Justine was only ten feet from the river bank when everything started moving. She couldn’t tell whether the earth was quaking, because she was too busy trying not to drown. The river seemed to have gone mad : there were waves twice as tall as she was, and the boat was pitching and heaving like a thing possessed. There was no point rowing, not when she couldn’t even see the shore. It was all Justine could do to just hold on to the gunwales, as the boat slammed into the river, and the river crashed into the boat.

It was only a minute or two later that the shaking ended and some kind of normalcy was restored. Justine began bailing frantically — her boat had taken on an awful lot of water, and seemed to be in serious danger of sinking. It was some time before she could relax and look around her, only to find that she must have drifted a long way downstream. The man with an absurd menagerie was gone, and the forest wasn’t nearly as thick here.

Slowly, Justine rowed to the shore. She dragged herself out of the boat,and on to the river bank. Pulling her pack off her back, she cursed. She hadn’t lost anything, but all of her supplies were thoroughly soaked. So much for keeping everything dry by taking a boat!

“If I had just swam across in the first place, I would have avoided all that silliness with the old man and his puzzle,” she thought to herself. “On the other hand, swimming is a lot slower than rowing — I might have been in the river when the quaking began anyway, and would have surely drowned.”

Bemoaning her terrible luck and frustrated with the world at large, Justine piled all her supplies under a nearby tree, and began gathering firewood. It could get cold at night in the forest, and she was sopping wet. She’d have to eat up her bread and cheese, too, lest it get moldy. She’d just have to save her worries about tomorrow’s food for tomorrow.

***

Justine was trudging through the woods once again. She’d slept later this morning than she ever had before, exhausted from the previous day’s adventures. She had even managed to find some edible berries. They were sour little things, and not at all filling, but they were better than nothing.

“I’d kill for a bowl of porridge right now,” she thought. “Or even a nice, juicy rabbit.” But that was pointless — she didn’t have a bow or spear, and she didn’t know how to make a snare. Unless she could find a pudding-tree, it would be berries for breakfast, berries for lunch, and berries for dinner…if she was lucky.

So Justine wasn’t in the greatest of moods when she came on the old man. If she had been, she might have laughed, as he was standing on top of a ladder in the middle of a field, peering all around with a telescope. It was probably for the best that she didn’t laugh, though, as he had a very fine looking sword strapped to his waist.

“Hello there, sir!” Justine shouted, trying to get his attention. Maybe he knew where she could find some food. He might even know what to do about all these quakes.

“Eh? Who’s there?” The old man spun around wildly, one hand clutching the ladder, the other still holding the telescope to his face. Realizing his mistake, he lowered his hand and looked at Justine. “Ahoy there, m’lady! I’m the Captain. Charmed, I’m sure!”

Justine was taken aback. He had a harsh accent, like nothing she had ever heard before. He sounded like a rusty saw. “Hello, Captain, I’m Justine. May I ask what you’re doing up there, sir?”

The Captain gave a great guffaw, and answered “I’m looking for my ship. I’ve misplaced it, you see, but I know it must be around here somewhere. I’m having a devil of a time finding it, though, what with all this shaking nonsense. Why, I almost fell off my ladder!”

“Another madman. Wonderful,” thought Justine. “Still, even madmen can be useful.” She cleared her throat and hollered “That’s why I’m here, actually! I’m trying to find out what’s causing all this, so I can stop it!”

The Captain smiled benevolently down at her, and replied “Why, that’s simple enough! I know exactly what’s causing it — I just want it to end.”

This was starting to get annoying. “Could you tell me, then, sir? Captain, I mean? That would make things so much easier, and the sooner I put a stop to these quakes, the sooner you’ll be able to find your ship.” She had to mentally cross her fingers for that part. Playing along with him wasn’t really lying, was it?

“Oh, I’m sorry to say I can’t tell you that, little lady. If you can’t figure it out on your own, why, you certainly won’t be clever enough to stop it. No, no, I certainly wouldn’t want your death on my hands! Better for you to solve this on your own, I think.”

Yes, this was definitely getting frustrating. Not to mention repetitive.

“Isn’t there anything you can do to help me, Captain? Maybe you could point me in the direction of some food? I’ve only had berries to eat all day, you see.”

He paused for a moment, deep in thought, before responding. “I’m afraid I’ve got no food for you, Justine. But I suppose I can let you have my sword, if you promise you will never misuse it. I was a champion swordsman in my day, you know, though I never drew my blade in anger. You must think very carefully indeed before you use it for its intended purpose.”

Justine was thrilled. A meal would have been nice, but a real sword of her very own was worth going hungry for week! “I promise, sir. I’ll only use it if I absolutely have to. I swear on my life!” She meant it, too.

Nodding, the Captain unbuckled his sword belt and threw it down to Justine. She caught it with both hands, and eagerly strapped it on. “Thank you, Captain. I have to keep going, but I hope you find your ship.”

As she brushed past the Captain and his ladder, Justine got a good look at the landscape ahead of her. It seemed that the next stage of her journey would be all downhill — the Captain apparently marked the top of a rather minor peak. She must have been traveling up a gentle incline ever since the river.

***

That night, Justine lay beneath her cloak, propped up rather feebly by a pair of tree branches, and admired her new sword by the dying light of her campfire. It was an odd thing, and didn’t look at all like the pictures of swords she had seen. Those were all simple creations, long, straight pieces of steel with a wee cross-guard — really just a sharp letter ‘t’. This one was special. The blade had a bit of a curve to it, and the back was only sharpened up near the tip. The guard was a fancy bowl shape, and the handle was at an angle. It was lighter than regular swords and faster, too. Justine was no expert, but she recognized a masterpiece when she saw it.

Even adventurers need to sleep, however, so Justine reluctantly put the sword back in its sheath, and took down her makeshift tent, wrapping the cloak around herself for extra warmth. She curled up, and hoped her dreams would be filled with roast pork and dumplings.

Some hours later, Justine was awakened by a queer sound. Still half-asleep, she thought at first that it might be the rumbling that came before quakes, but immediately realized it was something much, much worse. It was an eerie, unearthly howling, louder than anything she had ever heard before. It seemed to pierce right to the core of her being, and she froze in fear as the sky turned red.

Once, years ago, Father had told her and Seth about something that had happened to him during the war. It was a cold day, and he sat in his rocking chair by the fire, smoking his pipe. He and some of his mates had been sent out on foraging duty. They’d gone to a nearby village to take whatever supplies they could round up, but were returning empty-handed — someone else had been there first. The village was abandoned, and burning.

Nightfall came swiftly, and earlier than anyone expected. The fat old Sergeant decided that was a bad sign, and since they were still hours away from the main body of the Army, gave the order to make camp for the night. Father started making a fire, so at least they could have a little warmth, but the Sergeant yelled at him to knock it off. He could feel something ominous in the air, and the others were starting to pick up on it.

They all huddled together, so as not to freeze, and tried to get some rest. The Sergeant took first watch. Father said that none of them ended up sleeping at all — they were too afraid. The sky started changing colour, and they heard a rattling in the air that seemed to come from all around them. And then the howling started. It was a long way off at first, but soon came far too close. And out of the clouds came…things. Father never described them. He said he was too scared to look closely, that he and his mates all closed their eyes. All he said was that they were vast, monstrous shapes in the sky.

That’s how Father became the only man in the village to see the Wild Hunt. There were other stories about it, of course, handed down from grandmother to grandchild. It was said that the Hunt only came on certain special nights of the year, when the weather was just right. Even then, there had to something special happening down on the ground. A battle was best, but even a fox hunt could do the trick. Opinions varied about what the Wild Hunt actually was — grandmothers mostly thought it was one of the old gods gone a-hunting, just as the name said. Reverend Ted said it was the Devil himself, either hunting sinners or trying to lead good men astray. Justine had never believed in it at all.

Well, that shows how much she knew. And on that night, Justine learned a terrible secret : the Wild Hunt wasn’t like Father had described it. It was so much worse. At first she was frozen in place, too scared to even close her eyes. As the howling raged on, strange clouds appeared in the sky, coloured blood red, fiery orange, and and a strange, horrible shade that seemed an impossible mixture of green and purple.

Lightning crashed all around her, striking trees and rocks alike. If there was thunder, it was drowned out by the howls, and she soon learned from whence they came. Out of the clouds emerged hounds like nothing Justine had ever seen before. Back home, the only dogs she knew were scruffy collies, short and clever, but the hounds of the Wild Hunt were vast and long, with rippling muscles and lean flanks. They were all white with red ears, and they snapped at each other as they ran, frothing at the mouth. They poured forth unceasingly and filled the sky with their uncountable numbers. Once they leapt from the clouds the howling died down, and all that was left was an eldritch silence.

As unnerving as it was, silence was still better than the terrible din that preceded it. Justine snapped out of her petrified state, and slowly, carefully reached down to her sword. She didn’t want to risk drawing the attention of the dogs, but with a blade in hand she could…pause.

“What am I doing?” Justine asked herself. “Those things are as big as a bull, and there are thousands of them. A hundred adventurers couldn’t fight them off. Besides, they’re way off in the sky, and they don’t seem all that interested in me.” She pulled the sword, still in its scabbard, under her cloak, and got ready to wait out the night.

The Hunt ended eventually, in the wee hours of the morning. Just like her Father, Justine didn’t manage to sleep a wink. By the time the last of the spectral hounds passed her by and normality finally reasserted itself, Justine was half dead of exhaustion and terror. Still, she was alive, and didn’t seem any worse for the experience. She even managed to drop off to sleep for a few restless hours, before being woken by the hot sun on her face.

***

It was another hungry day for Justine. She still hadn’t been able to find anything to eat other than berries. She was, in fact, getting pretty tired of berries. What’s more, her nice, easy walk downhill had come to an end — she now had to pick her way through a valley filled with rocks and boulders, some almost as large as the barn back home.

That’s probably why she didn’t see the man at first. The boulder he was standing beside dwarfed him, and cloaked him in shadow. Sighing to herself, Justine walked towards him. As she came closer, she could see that he was quite a bit older than the last old man. He had a big, bushy beard that was all white, and he wore a floppy black hat. He also had a sword stuck in his belt. Justine noted, with a hint of pride, that his sword seemed to be perfectly ordinary, and not nearly as nice as hers.

“Good morning,” she ventured. The man nodded in reply, saying nothing.

“Let me guess,” she went on, “you know what’s causing all this trouble, and you know how to stop it, but you aren’t going to tell me, are you?”

He grinned, and nodded again.

“Look here, my name is Justine, and I am going to fix whatever is going on here. And I’ll do it with or without your help!”

He grinned even wider, and spoke. “I’m Sir Cu, Justine, and I’m glad to hear it, because I’ve no help to give you. Anyway, you seem to have the situation well in hand. Please don’t let me get in your way.”

As frustrated as she was, Justine warmed up to him a little. He had a gentle, rolling accent, just like her Nan had. She’d come from up north, Justine remembered. Besides, she had never met a real live knight before, not even an old one.

“Maybe you won’t tell me what to do, but I expect you’ve got some kind of advice for me, or some useful tool. That’s how this works, right? Like, maybe you’ll give me your sword.”

He drew back a little, and put his hand on the hilt of his blade. “My sword? What would I do that for? I made this myself, you know. Besides, you’ve got a sword already.”

Justine put up both her hands in a conciliatory manner. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…look, the last few days have been very peculiar, OK? I’m on a quest, and it’s gotten all strange. I don’t expect you to give me your sword, and I certainly didn’t intend to offend you.”

The Knight’s smile returned a little, and he took his hand away from his sword. “That’s alright, then. Misunderstandings happen, I suppose. I’m afraid I have absolutely no wisdom to impart, or supplies to give. From here on, whatever path you choose, you walk alone.”

“Can I at least ask what you’re doing out here, then?”

The Knight smiled once more, but with a tinge of sadness. “The object of your quest lies behind me. I guard the gates, so that only the worthy may pass. And I will not stand in your way if you decide to go on.”

Justine was a little troubled, not to mention confused. “Does that mean I’m worthy? Because it’s not as though I’ve done anything in particular, you know. Not that I want you to keep me out, mind. I’ll keep going regardless. I’m just not sure you’re right about me.”

“I alone can judge your worth. Don’t trouble yourself about it; few of those who are worthy believe themselves to be so, and most of those who believe they are, aren’t. I will not speak further on the matter.”

“OK, I guess. I’ll just be going, then.” She adjusted her pack, and started walking.

“Wait.” Justine stopped, and turned back to listen. “For what it’s worth, ma’am, I hope you succeed.”

She raised a hand in salute, and continued on her way. About 20 feet beyond the old man she saw two enormous boulders, far greater than any of the others. There was a tiny crack between them. It looked as though she just might fit, if she took off her pack and sword.

“Bugger that,” she thought to herself. “I’ve lugged my things all this way, and I’m not giving them up now. Plus, there could be all sorts of horrors lurking on the other side, and I’m not facing them without a weapon.” Justine slowly put her pack, billhook, and sword on the ground, and went rooting around among her meager possessions for a length of rope. Having found it, she tied everything together in one bundle, with the handle of the billhook sticking out.

Her task complete, Justine grabbed the handle and began squeezing through the crack in the rocks, dragging everything behind her. It was a tight fit; at one point she even became stuck, and only got through by exhaling as deeply as possible and pushing with her one free hand.

It was just after that she heard a noise so loud it transcended sound and became something to be felt as well as heard. Her head pounded, her eardrums rebelled, and her entire body vibrated. At first she didn’t even realize what was happening. When she finally figured it out, she was so overwhelmed by the sheer assault on her senses she barely cared. That’s when the entire world started to shake, and a terrible smell unlike anything Justine had ever experienced filled her nostrils.

Justine honestly thought she was going to die right then and there. Rocks were falling all around her, and even the two great boulders were quaking and shifting. All it would take was one tiny movement and she would be crushed like a bug. And that’s if she was lucky. If the gods weren’t kind, the path in front of her might close, and she would be stuck there, without food, water, or any hope of escape.

Eventually, though, the quaking stopped, and she made it through, but not without picking up some scrapes and bruises along the way. Looking back, she saw that the path she’d followed was completely closed off. “I guess I’ll have to take the long way home.”

She took a moment to look at her surroundings. There’s no point marching forward when you’re not even sure where you’re going. She had half-expected blasted terrain and a hellscape of lava and pointy rocks. Instead, she was apparently in a rather nice orchard. There were apple trees everywhere, in orderly rows, and some sort of town in the distance.

For lack of a better destination, Justine decided to head into the town. She untied her bundle, got everything back into place, and started walking. As she drew closer and closer to the town, she noticed something odd. There were none of the sounds she associated with daily life in the countryside. No cows mooing, no carts rolling in the street, no children playing. The only thing she heard was an odd sort of deep, rhythmic wind. It went in, and out, and in, and out, and…and then Justine realized that she was hearing something breathing. Something big.

Carefully she crept towards the town. It appeared to be deserted, except for the unknown breathing creature. It was only sensible to assume that the beast was responsible for all the shaking as well, and that the townsfolk had fled because of it. Or been eaten.

Justine poked her head around the edge of a house, and realized she was looking directly into the town square. Right in front of her was the largest pig she had ever seen. It was far larger than the hounds of the Wild Hunt, and almost as large as the boulders she had crawled past to get here. It was at least twice the size of her home, and three times as smelly.

That’s when it all made sense. Everything that had happened clicked into focus. The rumbling, the shaking, the horrible smell…the pig was farting! A quick glance past the pig confirmed her guess : the houses immediately behind it had all been knocked down, and all the grass and plants had wilted.

“What is this thing eating?” Justine wondered. No matter. Whatever the pig’s true nature, it was causing all sorts of devastation, and it had to be stopped. Her hand moved down to her sword, and slowly began to draw it. Only…

“Brian farts all the time,” Justine thought, “and I’ve never killed him because of it, even if I wanted to. Father farts as well, and the worst Mother has ever done is smack him for it. Even I fart. I can’t control it, and I bet this pig can’t either. It doesn’t seem fair to kill it just because it farts.”

But Justine lived on a farm. She had seen pigs killed before, just so they could be eaten. That’s why farms have pigs — they aren’t kept for their milk. She ate bacon and enjoyed it. Justine genuinely couldn’t make up her mind, and in that moment, she remembered her promise to the Captain. If she wasn’t absolutely certain that the pig had to die, then she just couldn’t kill it. She would have to find another way.

With a sigh of equal parts relief and regret, Justine put her sword back in the scabbard. With that done, she was shocked to see the pig open both eyes, and look right at her.

“GREETINGS, CHILD. I AM PIG.”

In a burst of indignation, Justine shouted back “I am not a child! I’m an adventurer, and my name is JUSTINE!”

“HAVE YOU COME TO KILL ME, ADVENTURER JUSTINE?”

“No!” she replied. “I was going to, but I really don’t think I should. And I don’t even know if I can!”

“THEN YOU SHOULD LEAVE. IT IS NOT SAFE FOR YOU HERE. ALL THOSE WHO LIVED IN THIS TOWN RAN FOR FEAR OF ME.”

“I’m an adventurer! We’re not afraid of anything! Besides, even if I could be scared, I wouldn’t be scared of you! You don’t seem so dangerous.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW ME.”

“Give me a chance, then! Tell me why I should be afraid of you!”

“I WAS BORN HERE, IN THIS TOWN. I WAS A NORMAL PIG. I WAS CLEVER, BUT THEN, ALL PIGS ARE CLEVER. NOT THAT IT HAS EVER DONE US ANY GOOD. I SAW WHAT HAPPENED TO PIGS. I SAW WHAT PEOPLE DID TO PIGS. I DECIDED THAT I WOULD NOT LET IT HAPPEN TO ME. I KNEW THAT IF I GREW BIG ENOUGH, NO HUMAN WOULD BE ABLE TO SLAUGHTER ME.”

He took a deep breath, almost enough to knock Justine off her feet, and then went on.

“I ATE AND I ATE. I ATE EVERYTHING I COULD FIND. I ATE THINGS THAT WERE NOT FOOD. MY OWNER DID NOT KNOW MY PLANS. HE WON PRIZES BECAUSE I WAS THE LARGEST PIG ANYONE IN THE COUNTY HAD EVER SEEN. AND STILL I GREW.”

Here he crouched down, and brought his head almost to Justine’s level.

“WHEN IT CAME TIME TO SLAY ME, TO CUT MY THROAT SO I COULD BECOME FOOD, I WAS LARGER THAN ANY OX OR BULLOCK. I KNOCKED MY OWNER DOWN AND BROKE HIS KNIFE. I ATE HIM WHILE HE STILL LIVED. HE STRUGGLED EVEN AS I SWALLOWED HIM. I PREVAILED. DOES THAT SHOCK YOU, ADVENTURER JUSTINE? DO I SEEM A MONSTER TO YOU?”

She thought about it, and then thought some more. “You were protecting yourself.” She shook her head. “No, you’re not a monster. You only did what he was going to do to you.”

“PERHAPS THAT IS SO. THE PEOPLE OF THE TOWN, HOWEVER, DID NOT AGREE WITH YOU. THEY TRIED TO END ME, BUT I WAS TOO STRONG, AND TOO CLEVER. TOO CLEVER BY HALF. THOSE WHO DID NOT FLEE WERE TRAMPLED, GOUGED, AND FINALLY EATEN. I EMPTIED AN ENTIRE TOWN OF PEOPLE, AND GREW LARGE.”

“You’re still not shocking me, you know! Everything you’ve said is just self-defense. Except maybe the eating people part. But everyone has to eat something, I suppose. At least you weren’t being wasteful.”

“YOU HAVE COME ALL THIS WAY, ADVENTURER JUSTINE, AND YET YOU DO NOT WISH TO KILL ME. WHAT IS YOUR PLAN, IF I MAY BE SO BOLD AS TO INQUIRE?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Look, as long as you’re not going to go around killing people just for fun, then I don’t see any reason you need to die. The problem I came here to solve was, well, it turns out it’s your farting. My village is days from here, but your farts are causing enormous trouble. If we could only deal with that, I’d leave you in peace.”

“HUMANS GIVE ME GAS. MY BELLY IS LARGE, BUT STILL I AM BLOATED. I FEAR I WILL CONTINUE…’FARTING’ FOR QUITE SOME TIME. I REGRET THIS. IT IS AN UNPLEASANT EXPERIENCE, AND I HAVE NO WISH TO TROUBLE THOSE WHO DO NOT TROUBLE ME.”

He paused, deep in thought, and then went on.

“IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING STRONG AND SHARP ON YOUR PERSON, PERHAPS YOU COULD PIERCE MY BELLY. A SINGLE INCISION MIGHT ALLOW MY NOXIOUS GASSES TO ESCAPE DIRECTLY INTO THE AIR, WITHOUT ANY OF THE UNPLEASANT SIDE EFFECTS THAT HAVE CAUSED YOUR PEOPLE SO MUCH DISTRESS.”

Justine crinkled up her face in horror. “You mean you want me to stab you? Wouldn’t you bleed? Wouldn’t it hurt?”

Pig chuckled.

“DO YOU BLEED WHEN PRICKED BY A MOSQUITO, ADVENTURER JUSTINE? DOES THAT HURT?”

Justine was unconvinced. “Mosquitoes just bite into your skin. You’re talking about stabbing all the way into your stomach!”

“THIS IS TRUE. THERE IS A THINGS HUMANS DO WHEN THEY ARE WOUNDED. IT IS CALLED ‘STITCHING’. ARE YOU FAMILIAR WITH THE PRACTICE, ADVENTURER JUSTINE?”

“Of course! I sew all the time at home. I’m not very good at it, but you’re so big, I don’t think a little sloppiness would matter all that much. I’ve even got a needle and thread right here in my bag!”

“THEN LET US BEGIN. STRIKE AT MY BELLY…AND STRIKE DEEP.”

“What, now? Already? I don’t know if I…”

“THERE IS NOTHING TO GAIN FROM DELAY.”

Justine took a deep breath. This was it. This was everything she had worked for, right from the very beginning. Even though she knew she could do this, she was still scared. But there was no going back. She unsheathed her sword, gripped the pommel with both hands, and plunged it deep into Pig’s belly.

He didn’t react at all. There was no thrashing, no bellowing in pain, not even a quiver. And there no was no sign that it had worked.

“YOU WILL HAVE TO REMOVE YOUR BLADE, SO THE GAS HAS A ROUTE TO ESCAPE.”

Embarrassed, Justine pulled her sword out of the wound and flung herself aside, just as an incredible column of gas spewed forth from Pig. It was a green smog, and even several feet away, the smell was terrible. It was the stinkiest thing Justine had ever smelled, even worse than the time cousin Jeremy got an infected toe and waited too long to see a doctor. He lost his entire leg, but that was a rosebush compared to Pig’s stink.

Eventually the gas tapered off and the smell got better — or at least stopped getting worse. Justine held her hand over the opening, and when she could no longer feel any air being expelled, she got to work stitching up the wound. It was probably unnecessary, but there was no point in taking half-measures now.

“THANK YOU, ADVENTURER JUSTINE. I FEEL MUCH BETTER NOW.

That last word of his, “now”…that got Justine thinking. “What happens now? Is it all…over? Do I head home, get a pat on the back, and just…slip back in to my old life? What are you going to do?”

Pig thought deeply for some time.

“THIS TOWN HOLDS TOO MANY MEMORIES. I MUST LEAVE. THERE ARE A GREAT NUMBER OF OTHER PIGS IN THE WORLD, I THINK, AND THEY ARE ALL BORN TO BE SLAUGHTERED. PERHAPS I SHOULD DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT. BUT FIRST I WOULD BE HAPPY TO ESCORT YOU TO YOUR HOME. YOU HAVE DONE ME A GREAT FAVOUR, AND YOU MUST BE REWARDED.”

Justine shook her head. “No…I mean, yes, but…well, I didn’t do this for you. I did it for everyone else, and for me. I don’t want a reward from you, I just want to be your friend. And I’d like to travel with you, but not to my village. That’s not where I belong.”

“WILL YOU NOT MISS YOUR FAMILY? WILL THEY NOT MISS YOU?”

“I love my family, but that life just isn’t for me.” With a sudden burst of clarity, she added “It never was.”

“THEN LET US TRAVEL TOGETHER, AT LEAST FOR NOW.”

Justine smiled. “That sounds nice. For now.”

And with the wind at their back and wild geese overhead, two friends marched into the sunset to see what the world has to offer.