💾 Archived View for tilde.pink › ~bencollver › books › fae-fables › pink-topaz.gmi captured on 2022-06-03 at 23:54:16. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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[Art by Lucy Fitch Perkins]
The Princess had lost her Pink Topaz ring, and the palace was being turned inside out and upside down as the entire Court rushed hither and thither searching for it. All sorts of missing articles turned up, everything that had been lost for years,--everything, that is, save the Princess's ring. The tumult had reached even the Astrologer's Tower, that nook where perched the Wisest Man in the Kingdom, writing the history of King Yolo's family.
Whereas he would have smiled calmly over the loss of anything else (except his salary), he now, having shut his glasses in his book, was searching madly for them in order to join in the hunt for the Pink Topaz.
It was he, the Wisest Man, who understood more fully than any one else how terrible a calamity had befallen the Princess Lotis in the loss of her ring. The first chapter of his History was given to a description of the jewel, with footnotes which took up twice as much space as the chapter. It had been in the family for twenty-seven generations, dating from Yolo the Invincible, to whom it had been given by a great magician. It was a clear, transparent gem, in color like the petal of a wild rose, or the first flush of dawn in the eastern sky. Its surface was cut in a curious magic cipher which even the Wisest Man himself did not understand.
Usually the same tint as the stone, at times these faint tracings glowed and flashed like lines of fire, whilst the Princess noted the change half in awe, half in pleasure at the jewel's beauty and the fair fortune which it foretold. For to the family which owned it, and especially to the wearer of it, the Pink Topaz brought Wisdom, Strength, and Happiness, and its occasional flashes of fire denoted some unusual stroke of good luck. Imagine, then, how great a misfortune was its loss!
The King had sent out heralds in all directions with promise of great reward to the lucky finder, and already half the kingdom was searching for the lost ring. When the reward was increased to a million of ducats, the other half joined in the hunt. But, although three days had passed and there seemed to be nowhere else to look, the Pink Topaz was as hopelessly lost as ever.
Then King Yolo added to the million of ducats a far greater reward, the the hand of the Princess: and heralds were sent into all the adjoining kingdoms with his proclamation.
Then all the princes of all those kingdoms donned their armor, mounted their steeds, and clattered into King Yolo's territory to search for the missing gem and win hand of the beautiful Princess Lotis.
When she heard the first ring of horses' hoofs upon the flagstones of the great courtyard, the Princess peeped through her oriel window for a glimpse of the newcomer. An iron-gray charger pranced below, his scarlet trappings flecked with foam, the breath of the wind in his tangled mane. In the saddle sat Prince Valmir, noblest, bravest, best of all who rode that day to win King Yolo's daughter.
Dark locks waved across his broad brow; the red of the pomegranate stained the clear olive of his cheek and dyed the firm, close lips; silken lashes veiled, but could not dim, the brilliance of eyes darker than midnight, flashing with high courage, hope, and right resolve. Suddenly the Prince glanced up at the window, catching the glint of a golden head, when a cloud of snowy lace, descending, shut out the vision fair.
All night long belated princes were arriving, but no hoofbeat reached the ears of Princess Lotis, through whose dreams the iron-gray charger pranced, bearing a princely rider with soft, dark eyes.
Now, while the Wisest Man was still hunting for his glasses, to enable him to join in the search for the ring, he was heard to say that the Pink Topaz had been lost once before, in the time of Yolo the Unlucky, thirteen generations back, and was found in the most distant corner of the kingdom. How it got there, tradition did not say, but there was an account of the finding in footnote nine hundred and thirty-seven, in the first chapter of his History. No one took the trouble to look up the footnote, but the tradition, coupled with the knowledge that the Princess had been out hunting over a large stretch of country the day her ring disappeared, left no spot in the kingdom too unlikely to be searched.
Each day, when the various princes rode out to hunt anew for the missing jewel, as the gray charger shot across the drawbridge like a bolt from a crossbow, Prince Valmir looked back at the oriel window. Sometimes he saw the sun gleam on golden locks; anon he caught the curve of coral lips, and once a white hand waved to him in greeting. But when the other princes chanced to look up, they saw only a cloud of snowy drapery drawn close against the pane.
Morning after morning they rode away, eager and hopeful; evening after evening they rode back, wearied and dejected, whilst the Princess Lotis wept behind her oriel window.
As Prince Valmir galloped along the highway early one morning, there arose suddenly, in front of him, a very old and poor-looking woman. She was almost under the horse's hoofs, but the Prince reined in the fiery steed with a strong hand, and said:
"Take heed, good dame! Lookest thou, too, for the Princess's ring, and on the King's highway?"
"Nay," she answered, "I do but gather mushrooms. Oh, buy them, kind sir."
"I have no use for them," he began, but the old woman pleaded: "Ah, buy them, noble sir. 'T would be an act most kind."
Taking from his girdle a broad gold piece, the Prince dropped it into her basket, saying, with a smile: "This is thine. Wish me success in my quest."
Giving rein to his steed, he would have passed on, but ere the gray could take a step, the old woman laid her hand on his bridle. The horse shivered, then stood still.
"Thou wilt not find the ring," she said. The Prince started.
"But the reward shall be thine," she added.
She seemed to grow taller, and smiled at him with eyes dark as his own. Her hand dropped from the bridle and the gray plunged forward, fearfully.
Although Prince Valmir thought of the old woman's words during the day, he quite forgot them in the exciting news which greeted him on his return to the palace at dusk.
Day after day the Princess watched at the oriel window for tidings of her lost jewel. At nightfall, as the princes rode wearily back, she eagerly scanned each face, but found hope in none. She could not eat; she could not sleep; she grew so pale that even the Wisest Man, who was still searching for his glasses, observed it and said the Princess would better go out in the fresh air. So she wandered listlessly into the garden, where she had not been since the disappearance of the Pink Topaz, and sat down by the brookside.
Now the worst of all to her was the haunting sense the Princess had had from the beginning that she herself had misplaced the ring. But she had thought and thought, and wept and wept until eyes and head and heart ached together, all to no purpose. And now she sat by the brook in absolute despair.
By and by she observed that the goldfish in the stream were behaving in a very curious manner. They were leaping up out of the water to look at her.
"It is because I have so long forgotten to feed them," thought she, remorsefully, but that did not quite explain their mysterious actions. Every little fish, as it came swimming by, popped up in the same place, directly under a pink blossoming shrub at her side. The Princess grew more and more interested.
"They seem to be trying to tell me something," she thought, and as one little fish made a desperate leap toward the shrub, her eyes followed its motion. A sunbeam struggled through the dense shade overhead and fell upon something gleaming among the blossoms. The Princess's heart gave a great bound, for there, hanging on a little twig, was--the Pink Topaz!
And then she remembered that the last time she had fed the goldfish, fearing her ring might drop in the stream, she had hung it on the little bush, only in bud then, and forgotten all about it.
"Dear little fishes," she cried, as she seized it, "you shall never be neglected again! If I had remembered you I should long ago have had my ring."
Here the goldfish gave joyous flops.
"Now--" began the Princess, when she stopped suddenly, for she remembered that Prince Valmir could not claim the reward she had hoped would be his. Thoughtfully she drew the precious ring from her finger and sat looking at it for a long, long time. At last, with a sigh of satisfaction, she rose, dropped the jewel in her pocket, and turned toward the palace. Arriving there, she sent a page to the King to announce that the Pink Topaz had been recovered and the finder would that night claim the reward, but, until then, would prefer to remain unknown.
The Court buzzed with excitement and curiosity, although by common consent Prince Valmir was declared to be the fortunate man. The great news met each prince as he rode in at the outer gate, and stifled hope forever in his heart. Yet each was eager to see upon whom the reward would be bestowed, and the vast audience hall was filled when the hour arrived.
At the end of the hall a dais covered with crimson cloth supported the throne of King Yolo the Twelfth. Above the golden carving of his chair glowed a magnificent sunburst of jewels; sapphires bluer than a summer night's sky; emeralds of tenderer green than young spring leaves; amethysts that caught their tints from far-off purple hills; opals that united all the hues of sea and sky and land; diamonds unnumbered, and in the very center of all, a wonderful ruby of great size and untold splendor.
Upon the throne sat the King, clad in his purple and ermine robes, the crown upon his head, the scepter in his hand. At his right was placed, a little lower than his own, the chair of the Princess, while on his left Prince Valmir stood, all those other woebegone princes ranged beyond him.
A strip of crimson cloth reached from the throne to the bronze entrance doors at the farther end of the hall. On either side stood the people, waiting to greet the happy man who had won their Princess.
All down the sides the torches flamed, casting fitful shadows up among the massive rafters of carven oak, black with age. As the light flickered upon them it brought into view grinning monsters that supported the huge timbers,--griffins and dragons that, once seen, peopled the darkness long after for terrified children. It fell on banners pendent from the walls, their threads of blue and scarlet and gold now gleaming in the light, now hanging somber in the shadow. It shone below on burnished shields, and mirrored itself in a thousand tiny points on helm and cuirass, mace and spear. It lay softly on the uncovered heads of silent, waiting people.
Suddenly there sounded a blast of trumpets, thrilling each listener, and the doors swung open to admit--the Princess. Only the Princess, but how fair, how beautiful to the eyes of her faithful subjects, to all those unlucky princes, and to that one nearest the throne, whose heart was nigh to breaking.
Slowly she advanced up the long hall, her little silken-shod feet falling lightly as snowflakes. No sound was heard save the rustle of her robes of cloth of gold, down which streamed her shining tresses, dulling all the luster of her garments. A circlet of diamonds rested on her head, but the little hands, clasped tightly together, were bare of jewels. Her long dark lashes swept her cheeks, upon which the color now glowed, now paled, as she moved along.
Her father rose to lead her to her place, but the Princess Lotis stopped at the foot of the throne and, holding out her hand to the King, said "Gracious Sovereign and father, behold in me, the Princess Lotis, the finder of the Pink Topaz!"
The King was too astounded to respond at once, and the Princess continued:
"In returning the ring, oh, my father, I claim the reward thou hast offered for it."
"Oh," said the King, "the ducats. Well, 't is but just." Turning to the Keeper of the Royal Treasure, he commanded "Pay to my daughter, the Princess Lotis, one million ducats, the reward due her as finder of the ring."
"Do thou," said the Princess to the Keeper of the Royal Treasure, "distribute to-morrow among the poor of the kingdom those ducats, to each one according to his need."
The King nodded approvingly, and a murmur of admiration and affection arose from the listening throng. Then the Princess turned again toward her father with a heightened color in her face, and spoke in tones that were not quite steady:
"My father, there is yet another reward."
"True," answered King Yolo, a little puzzled, "but that--"
"That also, 'the hand of the Princess,' I demand as finder of the ring."
The King smiled.
"Is not that thine own, my daughter?"
"It is the right to dispose of it, most gracious Sovereign, I now ask," breathed the Princess in tones heard only by the King and Prince Valmir, who was bending eagerly forward.
The monarch frowned in perplexity, then, as his eyes fell on the Prince, his brow lightened and he answered "Be it so. As the finder of the ring I grant to thee 'the hand of the Princess,' to dispose of as thou shalt desire."
There was a moment's pause, and then the Princess Lotis took a step toward Prince Valmir and held out her hand. Down upon his knee fell that gallant knight, and pressed his lips to the little hand he had believed forever lost to him. When he arose, the King handed him the Pink Topaz, saying:
"Take with my daughter this jewel, which holds the fortunes of our family. All that I have shall be thine, and thou shalt be as a son to me."
Bowing low, the Prince received it, slipped it upon the hand of the Princess which he still held, and they knelt at the feet of the King for his blessing.
Then a great shout arose from all the people which rang through the rafters and stirred the silken banners and echoed from the brazen shields.
And the Wisest Man, who scorned festivities, hastened back to his History, where he found his long-lost glasses, and immediately proceeded to record, with many footnotes, the second finding of the Pink Topaz.
[This story resembles The Tale of Mushkil Gusha.]
