Trudl and Trudeliese
E. D. Telford
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010 E. D. Telford
Discover other titles in The Princess Collection by E. D. Telford at Smashwords.com:
Ella and the Prince
Princess on the Glass Hill
The Fickle Princess Isabel
Rumpelstiltskin and the Miller's Daughter
The Doll Princess
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Once upon a time in a kingdom far away there lived the good king Steffen and his wife, Euphemia. After many years of marriage, the king and queen at last were to have a child. When the time for delivering the baby drew near, the king sent for a midwife to aid with the birth. Unknown to the king and queen, the midwife, Sneldamund, was really a witch and up to no good.
The queen gave birth to twin girls and immediately they were named Trudl and Trudeliese. The midwife-witch cast a spell on the first-born twin, Trudl, and made her appear to be dead shortly after birth. To ease the pain of the loss, Sneldamund offered to bury the dead child and let the king and queen tend to the living infant. Because of the king’s concern for his wife and their newborn living babe, the king hastily agreed and the mid-wife crept out of the house with the infant, Trudl.
Once outside the castle walls and away from the view of the guards, Sneldamund uncovered her magical broom and flew off with the baby in her arms. When she reached her cottage in the deepest part of the dark woods, she reversed the spell and the infant began to cry.
The witch comforted the babe and fed her goat’s milk, and in this way, she kept her alive. The purpose of stealing the baby was to bring about the undoing of the king and queen, and to place a witch-child on the throne, for King Steffen had decreed that all witches should be destroyed from out his kingdom.
“There, there, my pet,” Sneldamund sneered at little Trudl. “In time you will be seated on the throne instead of your father, mother or twin sister – and then we witches will be free to do our evil magic in the land without fear!”
Sneldamund gazed at the ancient ring on her finger and stroked it with her gnarled hand. “When you are old enough to fit this ring, Trudl, it will be time to take you to the castle. With this ring on your finger, you will forever be in my power and will do whatever I command.” She cackled an evil laugh and poor little Trudl whimpered in fear.
Sneldamund did not mention the king, queen or her twin sister after Trudl turned one year old, for she did not want Trudl to remember who she was or to suspect that she was anything other than a witch-child.
Unlike the other witch-children in the forest whose skin looked and felt tree bark, Trudl's soft, fair skin resembled a bowl of sweet cream, and her clear, green-blue eyes glistened like a lake in mid-summer. Sneldamund's coarse black hair looked the same as all the witch-children's hair, but Trudl's long, shining hair flowed down her back and made you wonder if golden honey were pouring from a bowl.
The witch-children never smiled except after doing a wicked deed and only then did you see their yellowed, jagged teeth. Trudl smiled constantly as white pearly teeth shown through pink, full lips. As the years passed, Trudl grew taller, her waist thinner and her figure softer and fuller. Soon she stood a head above Sneldamund and several heads above the witch-children.
The other witch-children, who never much cared for Trudl in the first place, treated her unkindly and called her horrid names like goblin-girl and troll-maiden. Sneldamund got after the other children and threatened to turn them into mushrooms if they did not quit teasing Trudl.
Although Sneldamund started teaching Trudl black magic when she was three years old, Trudl struggled to learn the simplest spell. Oh, she tried, but something always went wrong. Instead of turning timid, chirping forest birds into mice, Trudl transformed them into powerful eagles and away they soared, high above the forest and off toward the mountainous peaks. And when the spell called for her to turn toads into turnips, something again went amiss. Trudl turned them into red-tailed foxes and they scampered off to freedom.
The other witch-children watched Trudl in amazement, and secretly envied her power and her beauty. To spite her, they threw their toad-turnips at Trudl, but she simply laughed and turned them into foxes as well. Of course her witch-mother, Sneldamund, heard about her behavior and punished her for it. More often than not, Trudl felt the sharp sting of a kettle spoon against her backside and was sent to bed hungry.
The years passed and Trudl no longer played with the other witch-children. She practiced her spells in private as she walked along the gentle paths at the edge of the dark forest. She loved basking in the sunlight, which the other witch-children hated. She picked the delicate wildflowers and braided them skillfully into her long, silken hair. When she was alone, she loved to sing. Since she’d never heard singing before, and didn’t know any songs, she told stories to the melodic rhythm of the babbling brooks or imitated the beautiful tunes sung by the songbirds sitting in the treetops. Woodland creatures gathered around her feet and brightly colored birds flew down and lit upon her shoulders. They had no fear of her and loved to be in her presence. Sometimes the great eagles flew down to her, and the woodland creatures and birds scattered in fear.
Trudl laughed gaily. “Come back!” she called to them. “The eagles won’t harm you. You see, I saved them from misery and death – and they know me. They won’t harm anything or anyone I hold dear to my heart. Come to me,” she called again to the small creatures. “Come sit by me and you will be safe.”
True to her word, the great eagles did not harm the small birds or animals in her care. They swooped and dove and performed dazzling dances before her, which delighted Trudl completely. As often as she could get away, Trudl came to the meadow to be with her eagles and the woodland animals.
One day, as Trudl walked through the meadow singing with the forest birds, the king’s son of a neighboring kingdom rode by. He looked at her across the meadow and started with great surprise. Quickly, he turned his horse and rode towards her.
“Trudeliese!” he called out to her.
Trudl looked over at him, too surprised to move.
“Beloved!” the prince called to her again, as he galloped towards her.
Trudl glanced up in the sky and saw two eagles soaring far above her. Waving her arms in the air, they immediately flew down to her.
“Stay close by me,” she commanded. The eagles bowed their white heads and took to the air, flying back and forth just above her head, ready to attack the stranger at her command.
“Who are you and what do you want?” she called out to him.
“You!” he said happily as he got off his horse, “My beloved, betrothed sweetheart, Trudeliese!”
Trudl held up her hand and the eagles flew closer.
“Stay where you are!” she commanded the man. “I don’t know you – and the name you are calling me is not my own.”
“What?” the man asked with surprise.
Trudl narrowed her eyes as she glared at him. “Are you one of the goblins I’ve heard about?”
The prince laughed heartily. “What good humor you are in today,” he said as took a step towards her.”
She shook her head. “Don’t come any closer, Goblin-man!” she cried. “As you can see, my two faithful companions will peck your eyes out and have you for supper if you move any closer!”
The prince gulped and stepped backwards. “Trudeliese? My beloved? What has happened to you? Are you bewitched? Come, to me, my love, and I will rescue you!” he cried.
“You are the one who will need rescuing,” she replied as she motioned to the eagles to fly closer to her.
“Why are you playing these games, my beloved?” he asked as he backed away towards his horse. “You’re acting as if you don’t know me. I’m Manfred! Your betrothed husband!”
Trudl frowned and shouted angrily, “Once and for all, I am not Trudeliese, and I’m not betrothed to anyone – not even to that evil warlock Gruelinn.” She paused and then started with surprise. “Are you Gruelinn in disguise? Has my mother put you in this horrid form to torment me? Get out of here!” she shouted.
“But – but, Princess,” Prince Manfred protested weakly. “Why don’t you remember me? We are to be married in a month!”
Frightened and confused, Trudl muttered words Manfred did not understand, and then she turned around quickly, and disappeared. The eagles continued to fly back and forth in the spot where she had stood moments before.
“Trudeliese?” the prince cried.
Not moving his eyes from the spot, he called his horse to him and quickly placed his foot in the stirrup and climbed onto the saddle. Calling to his servants, he shouted, “We must ride immediately to the castle to tell the king that his daughter has been bewitched, and now has disappeared!” After the riders thundered away, Trudl reappeared.
“Who is Trudeliese?” she wondered aloud. “Why did that strange man think I was her?”
That night as Trudl and her witch-mother ate their supper of toadstool stew and black bread, Trudl asked, “Mother, have you ever heard of someone named Trudeliese, and why would someone think I was her?”
Sneldamund grew pale as death and started to shake from head to toe. “Why do you ask?” she demanded, but her voice quivered as she spoke.
“A man came today – and said he was my betrothed husband. He called me Trudeliese. I just wondered why,” Trudl answered honestly.
Sneldamund fidgeted with the ancient ring on her finger. Finally, she said, “I didn’t want you to find out this way, Trudl, but the time has come to tell you the truth. You are the king’s daughter, but he cast you out to die as soon as you were born, but I rescued you. He wanted his second born daughter to reign in his stead – and not you. But it is your right to reign – and now it is time for you to go and claim you place as queen of the land.”
Sneldamund paused and then added, “The king and queen are very wicked, and so is their horrid daughter, Trudeliese. You must destroy them so that the good people in the forest – the warlocks, the witch-children and the goblins will once again be free to perform our ancient rites and magic as we once did so long ago.”
Sneldamund took the worn ring off her finger and held it out to Trudl. “Place this ring on your finger, my dear. I’m sure it will fit you now. It will give you the courage and strength you need to do my bidding, er, I mean to do that which is your right to do – as queen of the land.”
Trudl stared at the tarnished ring with the black stone. It frightened her, and she felt an evil power surrounding it.
“Why can't this wait until I’m older?” she asked. “I’m barely sixteen, years old.”
“Because now you know who you are. I don’t want that man to come back hunting for you. He has seen you, and now he knows that you are an enemy. We must strike now! Tonight!”
“No!” Trudl cried. “Not tonight. It is all so new, so upsetting. Let me sleep and tomorrow I will do as you ask.”
Sneldamund glared at Trudl for a long while, then replaced the black ring on her own hand. “Very well,” she said slowly. “You may sleep tonight, but tomorrow we shall visit the king and queen and their daughter – and give them what they deserve so that we can be free!”
Trudl nodded. “Well, good night, mo--. Er, good-night.” She curtsied slightly and then walked towards her room.
“Trudl,” Sneldamund called to her, “I have a dress for you to wear to the castle tomorrow. It is in this chest.” She pointed to an old wooden chest in the corner. It was held fast by an ancient, heavy lock. “I will give you the dress in the morning.”
Trudl nodded, and replied, “Yes, ma’am,” and went into her room and closed the door. She walked over to her small cot with the straw mattress and sat down upon it. Tears welled in her eyes. Now she understood why she looked so different from the other witch children – and from the witch who she thought was her mother. She was a princess, the daughter of a king. The tears flowed down her cheeks and she lay down on the small cot. She cried as if her poor heart would break. “Why did they give me away?” she sobbed. “Was I too ugly? Was I too frail and weak? Why did they choose to keep Trudeliese and not me?”
The more she cried, the more upset she became. “Perhaps they truly are wicked,” she said to herself. “What mother and father would give their child away – even if she were ugly and skinny -- and let her be raised by witches and goblins?”
By this time, there were no more tears to come out, and Trudl resolved upon a plan. She knew she had to find out for herself just what kind of king and queen reigned in the land, and why they had chosen to keep Trudeliese instead of her.
Trudl crept quietly to her door and listened. The only sounds in the old cottage were the sounds of Sneldamund snoring contentedly in her room. When Trudl was sure the old witch was asleep, she crept out of her room and quietly padded over to the old wooden chest. She held the cold, iron lock in her hand. She breathed slowly and closed her eyes. What was it she’d seen those pesky wood fairies do? Ah, yes; at last she remembered the words they’d spoken. Slowly, she repeated the magical words, and the lock turned into a snake, coiled through the metal loop of the chest. The snake hissed at her, but Trudl simply picked it up by its tail and threw it into the wood box. It slithered to the bottom of the box and left Trudl alone.
As quietly as the quietest mouse, Trudl lifted the lid of the old trunk and looked inside. There lay a beautiful rose colored satin gown with pearls sewn to the bodice of the dress. White satin slippers lay beside the dress. They, too, had pearls sewn on them. Trudl lifted the gown and slippers from the chest, and then, just as quietly, closed the lid again. As silently as moon moves across the sky, Trudl tip-toed to her room and closed the door again.
As she gazed out her small window into the black night, she wondered how long it would take to travel to the king’s palace – and how long it would take for her witch-mother to discover that she was missing. Trudl knew what she must do – and it was far more dangerous than taking the beautiful dress. She must take her witch-mother’s magical broom and ride it to the castle. Trudl knew that she would be beaten soundly if and when the witch discovered that she had stolen the broom, but Trudl didn’t care.
Perhaps, she mused, that handsome man who called her his beloved, would protect her and choose to make her his wife instead of the wicked princess, Trudeliese. Then, as quietly as the gentlest breeze, Trudl slipped out of her room and moved slowly towards the scullery where her witch-mother kept the magical broom. The minutes slowly passed as Trudl crept closer and closer, then, at last, she held the broom firmly in her hand.
Suddenly, the witch snored loudly and called out to her. Trudl stood frozen like a statue, and her heart beat wildly so that she was sure that even the bats above their cottage could hear it. The witch snorted, then Trudl heard her move around on the bed. Standing still as a stone and refusing to breathe, Trudl closed her eyes and waited. She clutched the broom so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The seconds passed, but the witch’s door did not open. The seconds turned into a minute, and then into two. Finally, she heard the even, rhythmic snoring of her witch-mother, and she dared to quietly tip-toe back to her room.
Placing the dress and slippers inside her pillow case, Trudl tied a firm knot at the top. Carefully, she opened the shutters to her window, and then sat upon the sill with the stuffed pillowcase in one hand and the magical broom in the other.
Uttering the magical words she’d heard her witch-mother say, she climbed atop the broom and off she flew! Up, up, up in the sky, far above the old cottage, far above the old gnarled trees of the forest, and far above the wide meadow where she’d met the handsome man.
Off she flew towards the castle without a thought in her head as to what she would say or do once she got there. She simply knew that she had to get far away from her witch-mother and find the answer to a new question: Why the king and queen had abandoned her as an infant. She now knew why she looked so different from her mother and all of the other witch-children, and why she didn’t resemble the goblins, dwarves, elves or gnomes either. She looked more like the handsome man – at least in basic form. She had two long legs, not short stubby ones. She had two long arms, like him, with fingers and fingernails at the ends of her hands, not claws or thick, yellowed nails.
She had a fair face, and long flowing hair, for she’d seen her reflection in clear pools; he, too, had a fair face, and bright shining blue eyes. Their eyes were not beady and black, nor yellow and piercing. And now she knew exactly who and what she was – a princess and a human being – and not a witch. “However,” she mused happily, “at least I know enough about magical spells to make witch-mother's broom fly far away from the black, ugly forest and into a new world at the castle!”
As Trudl flew through the night sky, she thought about her natural parents, the king and queen. More than anything, she wanted to believe that they regretted giving her away as a baby and somehow wanted her back.
Before the sun rose in the morning, Trudl arrived at the moat surrounding the castle. Slipping behind a clumping of trees, she put on the lovely rose-colored gown and delicate slippers. Carefully, she hid the magical broom, her old gray dress and brown shoes beneath a flowering shrub and covered them with dried leaves.
Running her hands through her long golden curls, she drew a slow breath to calm her thumping heart. “I hope you're ready for me, Mother and Father, because I'm so ready to meet you!”
Trudl walked away from the trees and over to the drawbridge surrounding the castle. She called out to the guards standing watch.
“Yoo-hoo!” she cried. “Might I not come inside, good sirs?”
The guards took one look at her and immediately lowered the draw bridge. Running to her aid, one of the guards said firmly, “Princess Trudeliese, whatever are you doing outside the castle – alone?! Get inside immediately before the king cuts off my head for letting you escape – again!”
Now Trudl was as wise as she was bright and she knew it was in her best interest to play along and pretend to be this mystery princess, Trudeliese.
“How did you get outside anyway?” the guard asked.
“I was, uh, sleep walking,” Trudl explained, “and somehow I ended outside the castle.”
“Ah-ha!” the guard exclaimed. “The next time you fall asleep, princess, I suggest you bolt your door so you'll stay inside! The king nearly chopped our heads off because of yesterday's wanderings – and now we find you outside the castle again this morning!
The guard wrung his hands anxiously and cried, “Woe is me! Woe to you! I strongly suggest that you stay put inside the castle, Princess Trudeliese!”
Trudl nodded heartily. “I will! I promise!” she replied, and turned her face away from the guard to hide her smile. Princess, she said to herself. I like the sound of it. I think I could get used to being a princess.
As she walked through the spacious castle, she met the cook.
“Up so early, your highness?” he asked. “This is most unusual. Are you ready for breakfast?”
Trudl nodded eagerly and followed him to the great dining hall where she sat alone at the end of the great table. She secretly hoped that princesses weren't served toadstools and rat tails for breakfast.
The cook brought such delicious foods – foods she didn’t even know the names for! Eagerly she ate the flat, round sweet things with the deliciously sweet, sticky brown stuff poured on top of them.
“These are delicious!” she told the cook.
“Would you care for more pancakes, your highness?” the cook asked.
“Pancakes,” Trudl said brightly. “I must remember the names of those!”
“Pardon me, your highness?” the cook asked.
“Oh, uh, it was nothing. Yes, please, I would like some more of those sweet little round, uh, pancakes,” she replied.
“And would Your Highness like some milk with those sweet little round things?”
“Oh, yes!” she answered happily. “I haven’t had milk for quite some time, and it sounds delicious to me this morning!”
The cook happily brought her a cold glass of milk along with some sausage, delicately fried potatoes, and a big bowl of peaches and cream. Trudl never knew that such wonderful foods existed. Her usual breakfast at the witch-mother’s cottage consisted of gruel and thin toad porridge.
After breakfast Trudl explored the castle. Everyone remarked how unusual it was for her to be up so early in the morning.
“But I’m always up this early,” she mumbled under her breath, “sweeping out the chimney, chasing mice out of the corners, and gathering turnips and toadstools for stew.”
“Would you like to work on your drawings this morning, Princess Trudeliese?” her maid-in-waiting, Hilde, asked.
“I’m Trudl,” she started to say, then she coughed, and replied, “I’m truly happy to do as you suggest. Will you come with me and we’ll look at the drawings together?” she asked.
“Yes, m’lady,” Hilde said with a small curtsy. “I would be more than happy to accompany you to the drawing room.”
Indeed Trudl was truly happy to have Hilde with her because she hadn’t the slightest idea where the drawing room was, or what drawings were.
Once in the drawing room, Trudl stared at the most exquisite paintings of a beautiful green vase with glorious pink, yellow, blue and white flowers in it.
“Why, that’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.
“Quite so, Princess,” Hilde replied. “I told you so yesterday when you told me it was ugly and that you wanted to throw black paint all over it.”
“Oh! Why would I ever say such a thing?” Trudl exclaimed.
Hilde shook her head, and said, “For sure, I wouldn’t know, m'lady.” She paused, and then asked, “Princess, are you feeling all right?”
“Oh, my yes!” she replied. “I've never felt better in my entire life!”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked.
Trudl shook her head. “No, but I thank you most kindly for your help.”
Hilde curtsied, and then left the drawing room just as Prince Manfred walked in.
“Princess Trudeliese, you’re awake!” he exclaimed.
Trudl turned with surprise and gazed at him. “You really are very handsome,” she said, and then blushed for speaking her thoughts aloud.
Prince Manfred grinned, and bowed as he said, “Thank you, Princess. After yesterday, I wasn't sure you'd ever want to see me again.”
“Oh, that,” she murmured. “I really wasn't myself yesterday. I do hope you'll forgive me.”
“You gave me quite a scare though,” Prince Manfred replied as he moved closer to her. He bent down on one knee and took her hands in his. “I am so glad you are here now -- safe inside the castle.”
“Yes,” she smiled. “So am I. I am quite safe, thank you.”
Meanwhile, in another part of the castle, Princess Trudeliese awoke in a foul mood. “Adelheid!” she shouted to her maid, “where is my tea?! You know I want tea when I awaken in the morning!”
The frazzled maid hurriedly ran into the room, balancing a scalding cup of tea on a small tray. “Here you are, Princess Trudeliese. Would you care for some sweet biscuits with them?”
“All I want is tea! Is that so hard to remember?” Trudeliese shouted.
“No, your majesty, it's just that I never know when you'll awaken. Yesterday your tea was cold when you awoke – today I thought I'd bring it when I first heard you stir.”
Trudeliese shook her head and ran her fingers through her long golden braids to loosen them. “Bring me tea every half an hour. If I'm awake, I'll drink it. If I'm not, take it away and bring me another cup.” She sighed deeply, and muttered, “Where in the world did Father find such lazy imbeciles whom he dares to call servants?!”
“Shall I draw your bath, Princess?” Adelheid asked humbly.
Trudeliese raised the cup to her mouth. “This tea is scalding! What are you trying to do – burn me to death?!”
“No, m'lady,” Adelheid replied, shaking with fear. “I – I just . . .”
“Oh, draw my bath, you silly goose – and don't think to scald me in the tub or I'll have your head!”
“Yes, m'lady, I mean, no, m'lady. I mean, I'll draw your bath right now, m'lady!”
As Adelheid scurried from the room, Trudeliese poured a small amount of the tea onto the saucer to cool it. She slowly sipped from the saucer for she was very fond of tea – almost as fond of it as she was of making poor Adelheid tremble with fear.
After her bath, Trudeliese pulled on a silken dress of azure blue. She powdered her nose, added a touch of pink paint to her cheeks and lips and then, with the expert help of Adelheid, coiffed her hair into an attractive bun, secured by an exquisite tortoise shell comb.
Trudeliese walked into the dining room and sat down. The cheerful cook approached her with a plate full of pancakes and asked, “Does your majesty want more of these sweet little round things?” he asked with a sly smile.
“Of course not!” she snapped. “Why are you acting so ridiculous? And why on earth would you call pancakes sweet little round things?” She paused and then added, “Just bring me some toast and jam with sweet tea.”