The Three Princess Spinsters

Keridwen felt a little hurt at Stubby for showing her the perfidy of her love, but now much. For Keridwen knew that eventually she would have found out the truth about her lover. And her friend Stubby had only made it so that irreparable harm was not done before she found out the terrible truth. As so closely it had come. Keridwen did not thing Mommy-dragon would have been terribly happy about her having young in the dragon's castle. And it was obvious to Keridwen now, that unlike herself, her lover had never had any intention of a future with her.

Soon, they were playing in the forest again. Of course, Keridwen never forgot her experiences with first love . Even though she was something in the way of a cynic (people had been telling her all her life that parents loved their children, and look how that turned out) she had somehow never doubted that true love was returned. It was a somewhat odd concept, now that Keridwen thought about it. One would think that love could no more flourish for such a worthless person than that a royal oak could grow in the sand.

And yet, Keridwen still felt that she had truly loved her worthless lover. Had she been infatuated, Keridwen would have expected herself to be taken over by revenge. But She had not tried to destroy him, something Stubby had really been most eager to do. Instead Keridwen had spent weeks and weeks sobbing before being able to take up her own life again.

Even now, Keridwen only hated him a little. She was far more aware of the terrible pain that lurked inside of her, then any anger. What else did love mean? She had, as the stories said, loved him only for himself and not for the lands and power (which he didn't have.) The truth be told, although Keridwen never wanted to see him again, she still hoped that somewhere he might do well. Preferably not at the cost of someone else. As her lover had taken his happiness out from Keridwen, and she hoped that he did not so harm another woman.

By all the signs that she could tell, Keridwen had truly loved him. And yet, it was patently obvious that her lover had never thought of her as more than a convenience. It seemed odd to Keridwen that she had not somehow known. Or that her own feelings could have continued to have grown, when her lover felt nothing for her. He had not even tried to find her, after Keridwen had caught him. Keridwen put the mystery away in the huge area reserved for such unsolved philosophical things and went back to life. Older, perhaps wiser, certainly more humble.

"Dragons don't mate till they are three thousand years old," Stubby confided to her. "Then they 'hear' each other, no matter where in the world they are. They fly to each other and mate."

"What if there is no dragon of the right age?" asked Keridwen, every practical.

"We don't mate till we are at least three thousand," Stubby amended. "Sometimes it takes longer. There is plenty of time to wait for your mate to get ripe enough."

"Wow," Keridwen thought.

"Come, let us practice spells," Stubby begged her. "You know it works better when you say the words with me," he reminded her.

"All right," Keridwen told him.

They went to the small cave that they usually played in. There, Keridwen and Stubby kept the books that he was supposedly done with. They spent extra time reviewing. Stubby was good with fire, as most dragons were. But he had a terrible time with earth and water, and there Keridwen was the biggest help to him. It was with some effort that Stubby finally managed to conjure an earth elemental, a small one. It lived only a few moments, but it was a great success to them.

"See?" asked Stubby. "I told you that you were a big help."

"I think it is all in your mind," Keridwen reminded him. "When I say it, you feel more relaxed and do it better. After all, I'm human, and certainly have no magic."

Right then, a terrible shout arose. Spinning around Keridwen saw armored men rushing out of the forest. A terrible scream surprised her, and she whipped around again to see another man, in more magnificent armor, stabbing Stubby with a horrible spear.

"Feronius!" Keridwen screamed, out of habit. The man didn't go up in a blaze, but his clothing did smoulder, probably as a result of Stubby's wheeze of pain that leaked fire. Giving up magic, Keridwen sprang upon the villain with her 'play' sword, that was really quite sharp, and stabbed the evil man right in the guts. He didn't do anything much after that, being quite busy trying to swear terrible words and holding in his intestines.

"She killed the prince!" the other men set about wailing, quite forgetting Keridwen as they rushed to the fallen man.

In the meantime, Keridwen quite forgot about them as she found Stubby quite pale green and almost not breathing. Knowing it might mean her death, Keridwen held the amulet Mommy-dragon had given her long ago and said the words she had been taught, should anything happen to Stubby. Then she pointed the clear part of the amulet towards the scene, also as she had been instructed.

Off into the forest, a Mother's anguished scream tore the forest. Even the branches began to whip and shake at the sound. Keridwen fell to her knees, crying over her friend, no longer caring a bit if Mommy-dragon crisped her. The huge flapping of wings soon was felt, and a gale of winds rocked the trees. Mommy-dragon's emerald body lifted up Stubby gingery and carried it off, ignoring Keridwen. Another shape, a darker green, with a terrible anger at it, began to harry the fleeing men with huge bouts of flame. Keridwen shoved her way through the prince's shocked men and looked into the dying prince's eyes. "Stubby was only a baby," she protested. "How could you?"

"I didn't think I could kill an adult," the dying man confessed, his helmet falling off in his anguished struggles. His hair was long and golden and his countenance handsome. "And I so needed to win a princess, preferably a rich one, that when I heard there was a baby dragon, I rushed right up here."

Keridwen looked at him in horror.

The dying man's eyes began to look strange. "You are a princess," he gasped, in his dying breath. "Say you forgive me. Take me, even for a moment, and my family honor will be upheld!"

Keridwen spat upon him, and the man died in the dirt at her feet. She began the long walk home to find out if her friend lived or not. Stubby did live, at least for some days. As he breathed his last, huge claw held in Keridwen's sobbing arms, the Mother looked sternly at Keridwen. It was obvious that it was all she could do to speak.

"In memory of my son's love for you," the dragon told her, "You may take what you can carry of your things and his, and go. But do not test our patience."

Keridwen nodded, knowing her life was in great danger if she moved wrongly. She crept off towards the caverns that had been hers and Stubbys. She took only her 'prince' outfit, and Stubby's books that they had worked so hard on for so long. Keridwen had them all the beginning ones memorized, but they reminded her so of Stubby. At the last, she loaded herself down with a nice variety of weapons and a warm cloak and left the dragon mountain forever. As she walked away, sobbing the wails of Stubby's parents created a storm and then a gale, and the water coming down hid her own tears.

* *

Betris left Matilda's inn. She trudged herself up the mountainside, hoping and trusting. At least she was well fed this time, and had no more jewelry to attract bandits, as Betris romantically described the drunken peasant that had robbed her. After all, she was a princess. And in no songs was a princess ever accosted by anything less than a romantically handsome chief of the bandits. Therefore, it must have been so. The bandit chief's men having been otherwise engaged at another appointment.

It was almost to the PHA that Betris passed the smelly remains of what could only be a recently eaten prince. Or rather a recently mostly eaten prince. It was a horrible sight. Death sometimes seemed noble, but Betris now learned that it smelt very bad too. But the ragged blood soaked scraps of clothing were still studded with jewels. And the sword that lay on the ground was a huge double handed affair that could surely only be lifted by a prince.

Betris' hope that the evil old smelly dragon had lied died a horrible death. Obviously, the dragon had just killed a prince. Or mostly eaten one. And it had been a prince that surely, by his timing, that should have been her prince. Betris had never heard of such a thing in the legends. She wasn't sure how that affected things. In the songs, there was only one prince per princess. Betris wasn't sure what she was supposed to do now. Mourn. But she had never known the fellow, and didn't even have any idea what his name had been. Morever, she had only the one dress she was wearing, and couldn't wear her elegant black silk that she reserved for such things.

The middle princess was just about to go on when the log that lay partly on top of the prince's body moved. At least, she had thought it was a log. Suddenly a large gnarled head pointed back at her.

"Back so soon?" a sleepy dragon voice rumbled, the stones rocking at the sound. "Time to baste," the old dragon mumbled, letting a mild gust of flame out that hit the left side of Betris's cheek and smouldered her dress.

Sobbing and batting at the flames, Betris ran down the mountain, doing more harm than good. She would have been roasted nicely, save that she fell in a stream in a fashion that reminded her greatly of her youngest sister, Keridwen. The stream soothed the burnt cheek, though Betris was horrified at the number of slimy living things in the water. She lay in the water and wept for some time, her cheek hurting, as well as the hand that had begun to throb with pain again.

Betris made her way back to Matilda's, but found the innkeeper even less sympathetic. In fact, now she seemed angry. Matilda allowed her to stay only long enough to bandage her cheek, and then sent the unhappy princess back.

"Hurry now," Matilda admonished the girl. "Can't you do anything right?"

"Have you ever thought-," began Betris, around her burnt jaw, "I mean, maybe it really doesn't work that way?"

"Of course it does," Matilda told her sharply, disturbed at the interruption of her favorite fantasy about Betris's wonderful fate. "It's just you that ain't doing it right," she insisted sternly, and pushed the princess back towards the mountain.

Betris went up to the fork, out of Matilda's sight. Than she took the downhill path towards town. She fobbed off her conscious by telling herself she was just going to find out about the prince, and then go back to the PHA. Unfortunately her bread ran out several days before she got to town. Only a passing acquaintance with her fey sister Keridwen enabled her to find a few edible weeds to take the edge off her hunger. She no longer even had her jewelry to sell for food.

In town, Betris had trouble finding work. People thought she had a sickness from the burn on her cheek, and she was quite in trouble until in healed up. For Dragon burns don't quite look like other kinds of burns and the townspeople were suspicious of one who acted so odd, and dressed so strangely in dirty but once expensive clothes. If Betris wasn't a plague carrier, they were certain she was a madwoman, for she babbled about things that couldn't possibly happen in real life. Dragons eating princes, and burning the princess. Nonsense at best, and herasy at least. The songs all said so, and that was that. Besides, who wanted to believe such a tawdry tale, when there were much better available.

Betris had to stay in the fields outside of town, living on what the harvesters missed and sleeping inside of the odd pile of straw. Once it healed She was able to trade her dirty but still elegant gown to a prostitute for a serviceable but worn woolen frock. It had been what the prostitute wore on her cold days off. Of course, it was a dreary color, and quite unattractive. But Betris was sure that better things were coming. Wearing her new old dress, and keeping her mouth shut on her past, Betris finally got a job at an inn, scrubbing floors. Fortunately, she didn't know quite how bad it was for some time.

About a week into the job a large mirror broke in one of the upstairs rooms that Betris wasn't even allowed to clean. Mirrors being horribly expensive, the innkeeper let some of the women keep bits and pieces. Betris was allowed to keep a fragment in her tiny cold room. It was barely big enough to hold the narrow bed and a small wash stand. There was no bureau, for she had no other clothes than the ones she wore. The hook on the wall was sufficient to hold her dress as Betris slept in her shift. The blanket was inadequate and Betris shivered herself to sleep.

It was quite humiliating, and Betris was glad that no one knew her here. And looking in the mirror, Betris realized that she wouldn't recognize herself. Instead of the cheerfully auburn colored hair and rosy cheeks, a wan yellowish face looked back at her from underneath greasy dull hair. The remains of the scar looked rather like a large red birthmark on the side of her face. Betris would have screamed had she not been so tired from scrubbing floors.

The princess decided that no matter how hard, she would do something about this. Over the next week, Betris managed to wash her dress overnight, though she caught sick sleeping without it as the weather got colder. She managed to wash her hair in the harsh soap, though it lost its luster without the rinses the princess had once used. Still, Betris cut off several handspans of her once thick locks. She learned to braid the rest up off her face, leaving it loose enough to mostly cover the reddish mark on her face.

For the first time since she left the castle, Betris felt her life coming under her control. Then, she heard the rumors of a fallen prince in the mountains. The description of the killer was horrifyingly familiar and Betris realized suddenly that Keridwen had once again managed to screw it all up. It was all Betris could do to make it home before collapsing.

"It's not fair," Betris sobbed into her pillow. "MY prince was EATEN," she sobbed. "And that terrible Keridwen found one, and KILLED him, and it seems she ran away with the DRAGON", she wept.

For although she really did love her baby sister, enough was enough. Here she was ruining her hands on harsh wooden floors and Keridwen was running around killing the already sparse store of princes. It was more than any princess ought to have to bear.

A month later, a handsome young man came to stay in one of the cheaper rooms. He was a sad and haunted young man, and soon he betrayed his secret to Betris. He was a prince, but poor. And he needed a princess. Betris did not tell him the truth at first. But the poor haunted young man had such trouble that in pity she confessed. After that, he pursued her relentlessly and soon she found herself in his bed. Which was rather out of order in the stories, but quite interesting."

Later that night he whispered, "It's only for awhile we must keep this secret," he told her.

Betris smiled, happy. For though he had no money or property, she had found a prince that loved her truly. She had heard songs like this, where the woman falls in love with the disguised poorman, rewarded when all was revealed. Which might be a very long time, her lover reminded her, but Betris's love was true and she kept to her word and told no one their secret.

* *

Cassandra wasn't thinking about getting even. Her life was going well. The nice young Halbert was a weekly visitor. He brought her a few gems, and pleasure as well. For it was the only time she felt anything, when another woman's man was stolen. Imagining and reveling in the other woman's pain, Cassandra felt whole and pleasure in the act. It wasn't anything like that when her other lovers pawed and drooled over her, but then, Halbert couldn't afford what they could. A woman just had to do what she had to.

It was fortunate that her lovers paid so well, for Halbert's guilt necessitated increasing doses of the potion. The first one held him a month. The second half that. The third only barely to his next visit. That scared Cassandra. Not having any more potion on hand, she fell back on the old ways. She put on her sexiest corset, got Halbert the slightest bit drunk, and invented new ways of pleasing themselves.

Given free reign with her body, Halbert got quite imaginative and didn't leave for more than a full day. It was a bit strange, for he was angry underneath, and spent some time enjoying himself when Cassandra let him tie her up. All in all though, she found it still enjoyable, especially knowing that he didn't really want her at all. It was all due to her potion, and she exulted in that.

Just to make sure he came back, Cassandra spent a great deal of time pleasing him, even after he was done whipping her.

"Please don't leave me," she begged, falling to her knees as she ran her body down his.

It was quite an artform, and it had taken her a great deal of time to perfect it. "I can't live without you," she protested.

Halbert's anger growing, he almost walked out. Then his hatred took over and he grabbed her by her elegant coiffure and took his rage out on her. It was greatly pleasurable, and Cassandra now knew his own rage would bring him back. She would get a little bit of potion to make sure, but he hated her so much now that he could not stay away. Hate was always stronger than love, and she knew his passion for her would overcome the paltry love he felt for that putrid girl.

In the morning, Cassandra took Agnus to the Cave Witch for the first time. Only Cassandra walked back, with five vials of the potion, and the Cave witch had a new familiar. An old gray cat. A very confused gray cat that turned her nose up at raw mouse and tried to get wholesome stew. It afforded great pleasure to the witch, for she refused to feed the cat stew, and it grew quite thin before it learned to hunt mice.

On the way back, Cassandra passed by the unlucky Jennifer. She was, of all things, shopping for her wedding. The girl gave her a confused look, having heard the rumors. Cassandra smiled smugly at the girl, confirming the rumors and enjoying the look of horror that overcame the girl. Cassandra could well imagine what would come next. For the parents would never let the girl break an engagement to such a young man. For Halbert, though not rich now, would inherit a sizable fortune.

Cassandra smiled at the girl, and as if casually, moved the lace at her neck aside, revealing a bruise of passion. Jennifer sniffed and put her head down, as if entranced by the bolt of silk she was holding. Cassandra walked on. Such small details made it all worth it. And soon, she would have even more. Much more. Too long had she toed the line in her father's castle. Now, she would kick butt.