The Fairy Lover

Breton singers told of an elfin knight and a mortal whose love remained steadfast through both joy and woe. Once, went the tale, there lived a rich and mean-spirited lord whose chief pleasure was in the hunt and the kill. In his old age he sought a wife. His gold bought him one of good family, a maiden so tender and gay that the lord shut her in a tower and set a guard upon her, lest the attract admirers younger and more ardent than he.

For seven years the young wife languished, alone save for the visits of her wardens and of her aged spouse. No child was born of the unhappy union, ans she pined and drooped and faded.

She dreamed wistfully, in her solitude, of the ladies of her father's court with their dashing chevaliers, and she longed for one who would love her as they were loved. At last one morning, when the sunlight lay in bars across the chamber, she wished aloud for a lover to warm her cold prison. Through the window came a rush of wind, and a moment later, a falcon settled on the sill. As the lady gazed at the bird, it faded into the bright air. She closed her eyes, then opened them to see the fairest of men standing before her.
"Do not fear me, Lady," he said gently.

He told her that in another country he was a Prince. He said he had seen her long ago and had loved her, and he explained that the wish she had uttered had let him come to her. The lady's heart flew out to him.

From then on, she summoned the Prince when she could, and he came to her from his country. In those days of her passion, she bloomed as sweetly as a rose.

But the old lord saw her happiness, and he set spies upon her. When they told him of the falcon-prince, he devised a trap. Before the next dawn, the lady called her lover. She heard the rush of wings and then a cry: The great bird, bleeding profusely, lay pinioned on spikes concealed within the window frame. At last the falcon wrenched itself free and, barely able to stay aloft, headed home. Without a thought the lady flung herself from the window - yet the fall did not harm her. She set out to follow the falcon's bloody trail. Now running, now walking, she crossed fields and forest until she came to a cavern that pierced a high hill. She entered the darkness and emerged at last to find a fair country of meadows laced with sail-crowded rivers. The trail, she saw, led to a towered city.

She walked through the gates and found the streets silent; the people turned aside from her. In the palace was the dying Prince. His eyes brightened when he saw her. He told her that she would bear his son and that the child must be brought up in her own land; to protect her from her husband's wrath, he placed on her finger a ring that would bring the old lord forgetfulness of what had passed. Just before he died, the Prince gave the lady a jeweled sword for their child, who would one day use it to avenge the death of his elfin father.

All happened as the Prince had foretold. Year followed year, and at last the lady's son slew the old lord with the fairy sword his father had left for him. As for the lady, she died of grief.