by Cann_S
"Folly!" bellowed the flustered figure of the princess, "Folly I say."”
"I'm sorry yer Majesty," ”the short brutish servant lowered his head.
"I say we will have a fresh pig of the finest calibre by nightfall" demanded the dashing maiden dressed in her regal splendour.
"Yes, yer majesty" conceded the dowdy servant. His insipid clothing fading into the background against the princess's brilliant white dress. The servant breathed deeply and fearfully, "But ... yer majesty … the people ... they are starving. The farmers, they have scarcely enough livestock to feed their own sonren. What spare they have, the townsfolk share as one." He took another deep breath, "I fear they cannot spare the whole pig. The people have never failed you, please recognize their suffering. Their stock is dwindling. Please, mi'Lady, spare them for one week."
"Go! Be Gone!" bellowed the princess again, her cheeks turning a rosy pink, "Your petulance angers me. We will not starve as the peasants do. Bring me a pig or lose your head!"
"Yes," said the servant gravely, for he knew the people would feed the princess, "Yes, mi'Lady." The wearisome servant backed out of the princess's bedroom, closing the large oak doors as he left.
The extravagantly carved doorway slammed shut sending a reverberating echo through the maze of stone passageways in the castle. The echo swam through the regal dining halls, up through the spiralling towers and softly faded away onto the pristinely gardened lawns. Brodie, the servant, walked gloomily away from the princess's dormitory. Each footstep reverberated through the draft filled castle. It stood majestically at the summit of a snow-tipped mountain. The looming towers peered down below to the outskirts of the walls surrounding the castle. Outside the walls lay the pillaged ruins of a formally proud town. The cobhemorrhage streets were now little more than dirt tracks, the village green a quagmire.
The winter had been rough. The incessant gales and storms had torn apart the town; unprotected by the large wind-breaking walls of the castle. Streams of mud from the summit of the mountain had washed through the hamlet, covering the cobhemorrhage stones, washing away the winter supply of grain and drowning countless livestock. The townsfolk were starving. Brodie knew that the townsfolk would not turn him away, nor his request. They still loved their King and were loyal to him. A request from the castle in this hour of need would be treated with the greatest of necessity. The King was not a greedy monarch; he knew the struggles of his people. Brodie knew this, but he also knew that the princess was not of the same noble creed as the King.
He made his way out of the castle towards the great looming gate at the foot of the castle walls.
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“"My friends! Please be still" said the Mayor of the hamlet, "The stocks, they are barren. Please ... everyone will be given their share."
The townsfolk had gathered in the civic building in the centre of town. The floor was awash with the sodden dirt which had flooded through the heart of the community. Many of the townsfolk had found relief from the shallow dirge by sitting up on the stage. They surrounded the Mayor and the handful of sacks that he held on the podium.
"Balderdash!" exclaimed Tom the local butcher as he tried to gain a space on the dry stage. His foot slipped into the swampy mess below, "Bah! Look at how we are living, I have not a pig to my name. How long can your rations of grain last Monty?"
Monty, the Mayor, lowered his head and looked at the bags, "I hear your worries brother, I do. But what do you ask of me? I can but do the best that is possible."
"And a fine's job you do Sir. A fine's job." said Locksley, the local gardener. He was stood below the stage in a pair of waist high green Wellington boots.
"Thank you," said the Mayor, "Thank you Locksley. But I fear I am failing the town. Tom is right, the grain you see before you today is the last of the supply. I'm afraid I am going to reduce your daily ration again."
"I warned you" came a gravelled voice from the darkened corner of the hall, "I warned you." The throng of townsfolk huddled on the stage turned in unison towards the back corner of the hall. "Aye, you did Hagel, that you did" said Tom. The figure of a hunchbacked old lady emerged from the corner. Her face was wrinkled and boiled, her clothing was dirty and decrepit and her movement frail. "That she did Mayor" Tom continued.
The mayor's face became noticeably sterner, "Yes, you did Hagel. But it wouldn't surprise me if you brought the floods yourself."
"Mr Monty Sir!" exclaimed Tom, "You should be ashamed of yourself!"
The Mayor lowered his brow, "Excuse me Hagel. I apologise. But you do refuse to help us in our time of need. Why do you let the people suffer so?"
Hagel stepped closer through the solidified mud on the civic hall's floor. Her haggard steps were almost too meek to part the soft surface. "I warned you. Do you not call that help? I warned you."
"That she did Sir" confirmed Tom.
"Yes, thank you Tom," said the Mayor with an accusatory glance, "But you knew the storms were coming and did nothing to prevent the town's destruction."
The gaunt old woman stopped short of the stage holding the townsfolk. Her filthy black dress soaked up the moisture from the mud. "You ask of me that which I cannot do. A witch's magic is solely to warn the innocent and punish the wicked." She said shaking her head sadly.
"She warned us she did Sir" said Tom before being nudged in the back by Hedley the local blacksmith.
"It is not from me you should seek your atonement" said the sullen witch, "'Tis the King who lives in times of bounty. 'Tis he who has the means to end your suffering, not I." The witch turned her head to the civic hall's entrance.
Moments later, the crowd of locals turned their attention to the door as it creaked open loudly sending a wave through the mud on the floor. "Brodie!" exclaimed the Mayor. The hearts of all the townsfolk on the stage grew warmer upon the sight of the King's counsel. "What brings you to our meeting today?" asked the Mayor.
Brodie waded into the room towards the stage. "Greetings my friends, Greetings" he announced. He reached Locksley in the wellington boots and stood beside him. "I welcome your warm greetings, friends, but I fear they may not last when I deliver my news." Brodie took off his royal headwear and held it to his chest, "The King does request of the town a live pig of the most tender, most succulent variety without delay."
The town gave a collective gasp. "Brodie, my good sir," said the Mayor, "We seek not to anger the King but... but we have not a pig of any quality."
Brodie lowered his head in disappointment, "That I feared. Yet I cannot go back to the castle without news of a pig or it will be my head."
The town gave another gasp. Brodie felt a hand upon his shoulder. "No, Sir, surely's not!" came the voice of Locksley, "Surely's not to a fine man such as yerself Mr Brodie Sir." He looked to the stage, "We must not allow this gentleman to go back to the castle empty handed. Surely's not my friends."
The townsfolk on the stage nodded in agreement. "But what to do?" asked the Mayor as he cleared his steaming glasses, "We have no pigs, no hens, no lambs."
An uneasy murmur echoed through the hall. The townsfolk were in an impossible situation; the town had no meat, but to turn down the King's request would be treasonous and dishonourable. "If the King has requested a pig he must be suffering the same troubles as his subjects. We cannot let the King starve", said the Mayor. He opened the floor, or more accurately the stage, for suggestions.
"I cannot let the King starve," said Locksley stamping his feet in the mud below, "Why...I should give my own daughter if I thought the King was starving."
"Not before me you wouldn't" said Tom rising to his feet on the stage, "My daughter is twice the meal of yours. My Roxanne would be the only girl suitable for a King."
"Your out of your mind," shouted another voice, "My Lilia is fit for a King."
"My Gloria-"”
"My Abigail" shouted two more voices.
The argument was suddenly broken up by the loud banging on the floor. Hagel rammed her staff to the soggy floor until silence had filled the room. "Be careful what you wish for... for someone's daughter will be eaten." The townsfolk looked at each other nervously.
"The King wouldn't do such a thing" shouted the Mayor.
"I tell not a lie," continued Hagel, "Have I ever lied before?"
The townsfolk looked at each other nervously again. "Say it isn't so," said the Mayor, "The King must be starving like his subjects. We have abandoned him in his hour of need and he has been forced to come here and beg for a pig from us." The townsfolk all looked to the floor in shame. An uneasy silence fell over the room.
"Err, like's Tom was saying..." said Locksley breaking the hush, "His daughter is twice the meal of my Claudia. I say we send his Roxanne."
"Wait a minute!" shouted Tom angrily, "A father's love is blind... we all know Lilia is the finest meat in town."
"Abigail"
"Gloria" shouted another two voices.
Away from the arguments of the rabble, Brodie quietly made his way to the exit, solemn in his guilt. As he exited the civic hall a bony hand clasped his arm. "Go back to your masters and tell them of the news. Tell them the sacrifice their people are willing to give to ensure their survival."
Brodie looked into the eyes of the laboured old hag, "Tell me Hagel. Were your words of the truth? Will the King eat of the flesh of a daughter?"
"Every word" said the witch, "But hear this. Those that accept the offer will be damned for their deeds. For it is a sin to allow an innocent girl to be slaughtered in the name of survival. Now be gone, the townsfolk will arrive at the castle in due course. Prepare the table for a banquet."
Brodie left the rabble of townsfolk in the hall and set off back to the large imposing castle gates. He feared the consequences that would befall the King. His mind pondered how the cruel hand of fate would punish his master.
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"Don't worry Roxanne," said Tom laying a sympathising hand on his daughter's shoulder, "I'm sure the King won't actually eat you... I'm sure he'll turn us away once he has seen the evidence of our loyalty."
Roxanne began to whimper.
"Besides," said Locksley, "When he sees how thin you have become he will most's likely send you away anyway."
Roxanne began to cry. "Thank you Locksley, that's enough" said the Mayor struggling to keep up with the group.
The group had voted for Roxanne in the civic hall following Brodie's departure. Despite earlier suggestions to send the town's ugliest daughter, Old Mother Henchly's 42 year old daughter, the town had decided that that would be an insult to the King. A vote was cast to find the town's most beautiful and buxom daughter. Tom's daughter Roxanne won by a 23 to 1 margin. She had been immediately informed of the decision by the group while cleaning her father's butcher shop. Before she had had chance to protest the group snatched her in her daily work garments and marched her to the castle gates.
The Mayor lumbered up to the large gates and hit the enormous knocker three times. The sound echoed through the town and up to the castle. Moments later the doors began to creak slowly open, Brodie emerged from the grounds of the castle. "My friends. I wish I could greet you in happier circumstances." he said turning his head to Roxanne. He turned back away in shame.
"Be not ashamed Brodie Sir," said the Mayor, "We accept the fate of the Gods and the glory of the King."
"I don't!" said Roxanne struggling against her father's gentle hold. Locksley moved to the back of the mob in case of a sudden escape.
The group walked through the castle grounds and into the immaculate entrance to the castle. The entrance hall was stunning; a double set of twisting, spiralling staircases bordered the hall. Large paintings of former monarchs lined the stairs. "It's about time you people arrived" came a voice from the top of the stairs. The townsfolk turned their heads upwards and quickly bowed them again upon sight of the princess. She was dressed in a dazzling pink dress that reached down to her feet. The dress flowed as she walked down the spiral staircase.
"Apologies your Majesty" said the Mayor with his head still bowed. The princess reached the bottom of the stairs and called Brodie to her.
"Servant!"
"Yes mi'Lady" answered Brodie promptly.
"I see no pig, no grain … no food! What is the meaning of this!?" said the princess angrily. Her fleshy cheeks turned a rosy pink.
"I'm sorry mi'Lady but the town is barren, they have no food. Nothing" said Brodie trying to reason with the princess before the townsfolk make their grim offer. But he believed in Hagel the witch, it was surely fate for Roxanne to meet her grim destiny.
"Treason!" cried the princess to the townsfolk gathered in the hall, "Treason I say! You seek to let your monarchs starve! I'll have all your heads for this!"
The Mayor quickly gathered himself and lifted his bowed head. "No your Majesty! No! A hundred times no! You misunderstand us. Please!" he said frantically. The princess pushed her way past Brodie.
"Explain yourself quickly before I call my guards peasant!" she said, her cheeks were now gleaming a fleshy red.
Locksley rushed to the front of the group, "You see's yer majesty," he said clutching his hat, "We don't want's to disappoint you or see you suffer." He fiddled with his hat, "You see's yer majesty, we want's you to live in the best health and comfort. God's willing we have managed to so far I hope." He fiddled with his hat some more. "Seems you have eaten well so far through the troubles mi'Lady, he said as he looked at the full figure of the princess in her dress.
The princess frowned angrily and prepared to call the guards. Hurriedly, Tom moved into the conversation, "What he means to say your majesty is that although we have no food ... we still can't let you go hungry and suffer as we townsfolk are. That's why we came today, you see, with my daughter ... to show you how desperate and willing we are." He looked back to Roxanne. "Come here Roxy dear" he said offering a hand. Roxanne moved sheepishly towards the buxom princess, she held her hands nervously to her mouth as she walked.
"You see," Tom continued, "We have nothing to offer but our own daughters to your Royal Highness... as a sign of loyalty and service." The princess looked at Tom confusingly and then at the Mayor. Roxanne looked to the floor.
"What are you offering me here?" said the princess, her cheeks gradually turning back to a pale skin shade.
"Like Tom said your majesty," said the Mayor taking over, "We offer you the only food we have left in the entire town. We can offer you nothing more." The princess turned her gaze to Roxanne, she looked up and down the figure of the frail butcher's daughter in her shabby work clothes.
"Her?" she asked mockingly. Brodie nodded in approval. The princess looked back to Roxanne who was now shaking in fear, "She is the only food in the entire town?" Brodie nodded again.
"We chose her especially's for you yer majesty... we voted her the bestest meat in the entire town" said Locksley smiling. Tom kicked him slyly in the shin.
The princess paused and pondered for a few moments. "Very well!" she finally said assuredly, "Prepare her for a feast... we shall eat tonight."
"But your majesty! What would the King say?" said Brodie quickly.
"Silence!" responded the princess, "I will not starve and die here like a peasant. If she is all their be, then so be it. The King is not here today, so I am in charge. Inform the chef at once!" The princess turned sharply and walked back up the divine spiral staircase. Her long pink dress quickly disappeared from view.
There was a sombre silence in the hall as the consequences of the news sank in. Brodie finally broke the silence, "I'm sorry. I let you all down." Brodie's head sank to the floor.
"Not at all Sir," said the Mayor, "We knew this would happen, it never pays to doubt a witch."
Tom joined the conversation, "It's true. I knew it in my heart of hearts. But my Roxy will die with honour, to save the King is an honourable service."
"It's true! An honour indeed's!" shouted Locksley, he had left the group and stood guard at the castle door in case of an escape attempt.
Roxanne attempted to voice her opinion but promptly fainted to the floor in the shock of her soon to be met fate.
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Hagel sat back in her chair and smiled a knowing grin. The wrinkles on her face cracked apart as her mouth opened wide in a huge cackle. She stirred the magic potion further, the steam rising from the huge cauldron radiated with the images from the castle. The old witch had viewed the entire conversation in the castle entrance hall. The threads of fate were aligning themselves perfectly. She added the final ingredient to the potion.
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The princess slammed the door to her bedroom, maybe she had gone too far this time. Could she really expect the townsfolk to give their daughters just so she and her family could survive? She sat on her bed and contemplated going back to Brodie and telling him to stop. "No!" she stopped herself thinking, "It is their duty to protect their monarchs. If I go down their and stop them I will become one of them and we will die together … like peasants!" The princess laid back on her bed, she had beaten her doubts. The thoughts and images of a fresh meal raced through her mind and mouth. Her mouth began to water, "Fresh food!" she thought, "...Fresh meat!"
Suddenly a grey mist began to drift into the room. It emerged from the windows, the walls, the doorway and the cupboards. The grey mist swept into the room and surrounded the princess. "What is this!?" she yelled, "What's happening!? Help!!" The mist engulfed the princess; it swirled up around her legs and arms, lifting her from the bed. In a sudden flash the mist vanished from the room ... taking the princess with it.
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The princess re-emerged in a dank, dirty pit. The smell was putrid, the floor was covered in dirt and the noise … she thought to herself ... the noise sounded like a hundred pigs snorting. The princess looked down at herself, she was naked. She hurriedly tried to locate her dress, her hands pushed through the mud on the floor... it wasn't there. Where was she? And where were her clothes!? She continued to search through the mud frantically. Her body was now covered in mud. Her pale skin, protected from the harsh glaring sun for so long was now half-coated in dirt. She heard distant voices ... they can't see her like this!
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The castle's chef had brought Brodie and the group of townsfolk excitedly to the parlour. "Come!" said the chef repeatedly, "Something amazing has happened." The group followed the chef through to the parlour. Locksley pushed his way eagerly to the front. Upon entering the parlour Locksley stopped dead and spread out his arms to stop the onrushing herd. The group crashed into Locksley sending them all to the floor; except Tom who was despondently carrying his unconscious daughter at the back of the crowd.
"Your Majesty!" said Locksley in reverence from under the pile of bodies. The rest of the group raised their head and saw the impressive figure of the King stood inside the parlour's entrance. They quickly scramhemorrhage to their feet and bowed their heads.
"Your majesty," said Brodie pushing to the front, "I wasn't expecting you back for a week."
The King smiled at Brodie and then to the crowd. "My visit proved more than successful in a much shorter period than expected." he said, smiling knowingly. He then realised that a large group of villagers were stood in his castle. "Brodie, why do we have so many guests today?"
Brodie realised that he would have to explain the dire circumstances that had brought the townsfolk and Tom's daughter to the castle. "Well your majesty, you see, it's a long story, I-"”
The chef broke the stumbling descriptions of Brodie, "Please your majesty … tell them the news. I'm bursting to tell them."
The King laughed. "Well it doesn't matter why you are here, the fact that you are here is to my benefit. I want to invite the entire village to a feast tonight as my personal guests." The crowd of townsfolk made a collective gulp... Tom made two.
"Tell them why your majesty, tell them why" urged the chef. Before the King could respond the chef continued, "The King has saved the town, he has. Came home today with an entire herd of fresh piglets. Over a hundred."
The King smiled and took over, "The good King of Saragun was kind enough to provide us with a tribute of his finest piglets when he heard how my people were struggling. I have not forgotten how you good people have served me, the pains you are suffering now offer me the chance to show my gratitude." The group of townsfolk looked at each other again. Their eyes were open wide. "And now," continued the King, "to celebrate ... I invite the whole town to a feast tonight at the castle."
The group of townsfolk looked at each other one more time and then jumped into a spontaneous celebration. Each of the townsfolk and Brodie hugged each other and danced on the spot, "We're saved!" they chanted and "Long live the King!" Tom woke Roxanne from her slumber and lifted her from the floor in joy. Roxanne caught one glimpse of the King and fainted again.
The King smiled at the joy on the faces of his subjects. He ordered the chef to prepare the largest of the fresh pigs for a grand feast. When the crowd had finished dancing about the parlour he sent them home to round up their wives and sonren to return later to the castle for the feast.
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The princess heard voices approaching her. She scurried to the back of the pen she found herself in. Trying to hide her naked body in the shadows of the back corner, she held her knees in fear.
"He's a great man" said one of the voices. The princess recognised it as the chef.
"That he is, a grand man" said another voice.
"Oh no!" thought the princess, "Brodie"
The two royal servants made their way along the line of pens; each pen contained a handful of fresh piglets that the King had brought back from his trip. "They all look great pigs but they are all far too small yet for a feast" said the chef.
"Here, come and look at this one" said Brodie further down the line. He was stood outside the pen holding the princess. The princess squeezed her eyes together in dread ... she had been caught.
"Oh yeahhh" said the chef peering into the cage, "Now that one's a good size."
"Strange" said Brodie leaning over the pen door, "It looks much bigger than the rest of them but just as tender."
"Yeahhh" said the chef in agreement, "Must have been a special breed... one of those large piglets they have over in Saragun. The King must have brought one back especially for the feast"
"They have special large piglets in Saragun" asked Brodie having never heard of anything like this before.
"I expect so," said the chef shrugging his shoulders, "I can't think of any other explanation." The two servants laughed together.
The princess opened one of her closed eyes. “"Are they mocking me?" she thought. “"How dare you mock your princess!”" she screamed. But the servants did not hear their princess for the curse had been set. Only the loud snorts of a pig reached their ears, and only the images of a piglet reached their eyes. The strange mist that had engulfed the princess had clouded the senses of those about her. To the two servants, only the sight of a pig lay before them.
"Quite a long one isn't it" said Brodie.
"Aye, that it is" said the chef, "Strange breeds they have over the hills there in Saragan. Much longer than I've seen before."
"Long pig?" asked Brodie.
"Aye" answered the chef.
They opened the door to the pen and stepped inside. "Get out of here at once!" bellowed the princess as she backed her naked body up against the back wall. But once again, the two servants only heard the frightened squeals of a piglet.
"Lively one" said Brodie.
"Aye" said the chef as he grabbed the princess's two feet. He quickly wrapped some twine about her feet and pulled her out of the pen. The chef threw the twine to Brodie who restrained the princess's hands.
"I'll have your heads for this!" the princess continued screaming hysterically.
"Looks even more strange out of the pen" said Brodie.
"Aye, it does" said the chef.
They carried the restrained princess over to the bleeding pit. "On two." said the chef, motioning to Brodie to lift the tied feet onto the hooks above the pit. "One, Two-" the two servants hoisted the body of the princess upwards, the twine on her feet suspended her from a large hook. She peered downwards towards the bloodstained pit below her head. Her cheeks turn a fiery red as the blood rushed to her head. Her temper was now burning.
"If you don't let me down from here right now I will take your heads personally by nightfall!" she screamed. But once again, the two servants heard only the desperate squeals of a pig.
The chef took a large bloodstained knife from a hook on the wall. "Would you hold its head back Brodie"
"Certainly"
Brodie put his hand on the forehead of the princess and stretched her neck backwards. The long exposed neck of the princess lay waiting for the chef. The princess felt the muscles in her neck stretched tight, she saw the ominous blade in the hands of the chef and her heart began to race. Her body shook in its restraints, she screamed half in fear and half in pure rage.
"Hold it tight there Brodie" said the chef as he sharpened the knife. The agonizing squeak of the blade ran through the princess's body. Brodie pulled the princess's neck yet tighter, she felt her windpipe press against her skin.
The chef bent down to the level of the princess’s head and set the knife. The princess attempted to gulp through her tort throat. "You will pay for this!" she screamed gutturally, "I'll have both your heads for thi...."”
The blade sliced through the princess's throat filling her mouth with blood. She gargled the last remnants of her sentence. Brodie attempted to hold her body still as it spasmed in its restraints. The chef continued to slice through the tendons of the princess's neck until it came away in Brodie's hand.
"Lively one that one" said the chef as the body of the princess came to a permanent rest.
"Loud squealing one too", said Brodie wiping his brow. He placed the head down by the pit. "Strange thing though," he continued, "I could have sworn that it looked me straight in the eyes as you cut its neck."
The chef laughed, "Brodie, my boy, you'll never make a butcher..." The two servants chuckled and left the carcass of the princess to drain.
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All the town had arrived for the banquet at the King's invitation. Locksley, the Mayor and Tom had arrived together along with their wives and sonren. Tom's daughter Roxanne had worn her worst dress and painted pimples onto her face, just in case they changed their minds about the roast of the feast.
After the last of the townsfolk had taken their seats, a band of trumpets signalled the arrival of the King and Queen. Into the grand dining hall came the immaculate figures of the King and Queen dressed in their finest regalia. They took their seats at the head of the table. "My servants and subjects" the King said before anyone sat down, "Welcome to my home for this special feast. I realise you have suffered over the last few months and for that I commend you. Come, today, feast and rejoice and eat away your hunger." The guests applauded. "Be aware that a new herd of pigs have been delivered to my parlour this very day." The audience applauded again. "“...All of which will be sold to you when necessary for a very reasonable price."
A small ripple of applause went around the room; most of the townsfolk looked around the table annoyingly. "I apologise for the absence of the princess, she can be a sulky little thing" said the King, mostly aside to the Queen. He raised his goblet of wine and toasted the gathered guests, "Bon appetite!" A bell rang out at the kitchen doorway to the dining hall and the chef emerged pushing a huge decorative platter on a trolley. It was long and thin and looked in pristine condition. The long platter was covered by a matching decorative lid, so long that it had two handles on top of it. The gathered guests of the King applauded. Their mouths began to water as the smell of fresh meat swarmed into the room from the kitchen; it had been so long since their last feast on quality meat.
The chef stopped the trolley beside the King. What had at first appeared to be one trolley were in fact two trolleys tied together. "Your majesty" said the chef, "May I present to you the finest in roast pig." Two kitchen hands stepped up to the trolleys and lifted the large, silver lid from the platter. A cloud of steam rose from the roasted headless body of the princess. She was laid belly down on a surface of freshly chopped apples and pears. Her legs were outstretched behind her and her arms laid down by her sides. A variety of exotic spices had been sprinkled over her entire body, they clung to her crispy skin as the juices from her flesh oozed out.
The guests gasped in amazement, they had never seen such a strange appearing but appetising pig dinner. Everybody's eyes were drawn to the princess's rump and legs, so much meat waiting to be savoured and enjoyed. A third kitchen hand emerged from the kitchen carrying a smaller platter holding the head of the princess. Her cheeks retained a faint rosiness that had been such a feature of the royal face. The kitchen hand placed the platter in its traditional position in front of the King on the table. The curse remained however, and the King saw not the head of his daughter but the head of a roasted pig. An apple had been stuffed into the princess's mouth and her eyelids closed, she remained at peace throughout the course of the feast.
The chef proceeded to make the first carving of meat from the princess's body. The King had ordered a fresh piece of steak from his daughter's rump. Having sharpened the knife, the chef carefully sliced down the side of the princess's left buttock down to her thigh. He took the pink piece of meat on the edge of the knife and softly laid it down onto a serving plate. The room watched as the plate was delivered to the King's lap. He studied the healthy portion of roast meat in front of him; the grain of the knife remained visible in the soft flesh, it was the most tender meat he had ever seen. A pool of juices had dribhemorrhage down from the flesh onto the plate and soaked into the surrounding vegetables. "My subjects," said the King holding his knife in the air, “"Enjoy your me". This signalled the start of the feast and the room burst into happy cheer. The King bit heartily into the flesh of his daughter and savoured her delectable flavour. She surely was a dish fit for a King.
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The chef continued to serve out portions from the princess to the townsfolk of the village. Hagel the witch viewed the events through the mist of her cauldron back in her ramshackled hut in the village. A wide grin grew across her embattled old face. The Gods of fate had played their wicked game. The innocent were rewarded and the evil were punished. A loud cackle volleyed through the village and across the mountains.
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THE END