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THE PRINCESS AND THE DOG 

 

Her silver slippers rustle through the fallen leaves of the sassafras trees as Princess Morgana takes her usual morning walk around the castle grounds. At the closed moat, its defenders come to attention as she nears. They stand erect, frozen like the icicles that will soon fall from the trees she adores.  She ambles, walks slowly, watches their eyes follow every step she takes. The princess, as much as she would like to, is not allowed to speak to them.

 

That doesn't keep her from setting her own eyes on the tallest of the guards with the darkest skin of all. He must be of some noble blood as his tights are made of woven wool and he has been allowed to have a small beard. There are times she actually considers the wiseness of asking Cornelia, her lady in waiting, to arrange a rendevous for him to come to her chamber after the king has gone to bed. This dream grows more and more clear as do her fears of betraying her father.

 

Cornelia has told her the Royal Head of Balfour has been sending messages to kings, princes, telling of Morgana's beauty, her wisdom, her wish to marry. He asks for jewels, for gold, just to gaze upon her beauty. There is nothing she can do to stop him and has gone so far as to wear ill-fitting garments, leave off her wig, over-powder her face rather than be joined to someone she does not love.

 

The last sassafras leaves have gone. The moat water is brown, bits of ice collect and melt by noon. Morgana's walks are less and less as the earth's frost goes thru her slippers, turns her toes blue. The moat guards remain stiffly alert until at last the king has issued coats of fox fur that they cannot wear until night begins. During the days, he parades them back and forth, orders the moat gate be opened several times a day, just to keep them from dying of the cold.

 

It is a blustery day. Only the large fireplaces give some warmth in the castle. Morgana is tired of knitting. Her eyes tear from the smoke. Her clothes reek of it. She orders Cornelia to bring her a wrap of bearskin so she can walk outside in the fresh air. Cornelia brings her the skin of a small bear as the adult ones are too heavy for Morgana's tender shoulders.  She also brings her a fur for her head and gives her a piece of braided rope to hold it in place.

 

The moat gate is open. The guards have been outside the castle long enough. They begin to hoist the heavy wooden planks into place. Before it is too high, a little dark brown dog jumps on and is lifted onto the castle grounds. It runs wildly, not knowing which way to go. It is at that moment Morgana passes the gate. The dog and she see each other. The little thing is skinny, shivering. She raises her skirt and lets him crawl under it until they reach the fortress. Inside he sniffs the smokey air, yelps and runs towards the roaring fireplace flames. The princess  watches him. Once he is curled into a tiny ball, she sits on the stone floor beside him and smooths its paws. He purrs much like a kitten. Cornelia brings her a small bowl to give the animal food, soup full of rabbit bones. The dog knows the soup is too hot and waits.

 

Candles are lit in the Great Room, in the long and twisted hallways. They burn thru the night. The little dog has found a home, a warm and delicious place to stay warm. He sleeps under Morgana's satin skirt. In the morning the dog is gone. The kitchen is the best place to stay. It is warm. The deer roasting for dinner taunts the noses of the servants. Cornelia approaches the princess, bids her to follow her to the High Chancellor's quarters. 'Come, come.' 'No, I cannot go with you until I find the small, sweet brown dog, that slept with me all night.' 'Come, come. You will find him shortly.' Together they walk the long hall. There is a squealing noise coming from the room where the moat guards take their rests. Cornelia knocks and the tallest, blackest guard  she has ever seen, greets the princess.

 

He bows to her, thanks her for taking him inside, for sheltering him under her skirt and tells her a tale that cannot be true. ' Lovely Princess, I have been bewitched by my fathers' third wife. She wanted me to bed her and I would not. She intoned mystic words and turned me into a dog, a dog who would always be a dog until someone loved me. When you kissed my cold nose, I felt a rumbling, a stirring in my body and I am here to beg your hand in marriage. My wicked stepmother has been killed and my father is glad to be rid of her. He has her jewels, her gowns, her woven murals and will offer them to the Royal Head of Balfour in the morrow. I ask you now, will you marry me?

 

Princess Morgana is so very happy, tells him 'Yes,  without seeing her father. Her handsome husband-to-be turns to exit her chamber. As he opens the heavy door she looks at his broad shoulders, sees the curve of his back and a little brown tail wagging from his buttocks.