The Three Princess Spinsters


A story in serial format - Chapter One



Keridwen managed to travel for several days down the road without running into any problems. Fortunately, the weather was still warm. There was plenty of water and food to be found, if you weren't picky about it. Likewise for shelter, a huge pile of leaves in a depression was all Keridwedn REALLY needed in this kind of weather. Keridwen didn't know precisely what she was doing, or where she was going, but then she figured, who did? Keridwen had always been the most adventuresome of the sisters, and consequently, managed to get in trouble quite frequently. The results of being constantly in trouble didn't really bother Keridwen.

Her sisters, though, were different. Keridwen didn't really understand them. Betris was terrified of being improper, and would punish herself dreadfully for any transgression. Keridwen could never quite get a handle on what proper behavior was. After many years of trying to be a proper princess, and failing abysmally, she had ceased to worry about it. Sadly enough, she had done so poor a job as a princess, that no one even noticed when Keridwen stopped trying.

As a child, Keridwen never let either the fear of a beating, or of a broken arm, stop her from climbing a tree, or other unwise occupations. Sometimes it came out all right and sometimes it didn't. The times that it didn't were just more unpleasant than the times than it did. She was not one to waste time worrying about what couldn't be helped. She just did what was seemed right at the time. With this in mind Keridwen figured that she would manage to 'find her fortune' without too much grief. Unfortunately, she was completely wrong.

Keridwen had already encountered several groups of travelers. Most, of course, simply passed by. One or two of them gave her a lift a short ways, and one nice family dropped her off at an inn. Inquiring within, it turned out the inn needed some help. She did some cleaning and cooking for pocket change and a roof for the night. It was a nice inn, and someone there kindly gave her an old but still warm cloak, for when the nights got colder. Unfortunately, she was told they did not need any permanent help, so in the morning she was off again.

In truth, the innkeeper really was looking for a chambermaid. It was obvious to him though, that Keridwen was not the stuff that chambermaids were made of. He didn't precisely know what a young lady of Keridwen's station was doing wandering the road, but it made him feel uneasy. She didn't SEEM dishonest, but certainly something shaky was afoot, and it made him rather nervous. Certainly, she wasn't driving with a full team of horses, the innkeeper decided.

Perhaps she had escaped from those who were supposed to be keeping an eye on her. Many fine families had a member stashed away in genteel confinement. He certainly didn't want them finding her working as a chambermaid. Or, perhaps she was dangerous. People like that had been known to be the focus of trouble, even if they themselves were innocent. If trouble was coming, he would rather it happened further down the road.

Keridwen, of course, did not know the thoughts of the innkeeper. Rather than being disappointed, she felt cheered that already she was making progress, and who knows what tomorrow might bring? This day she was lucky enough to see the group of travelers approaching from well off in the distance. They did not appear... shall we say, `respectable'. They even looked like they might be... perhaps, bandits?

Prudently, Keridwen planned to hide well off the trail until after the potential bandits had passed. Although it was warm, she quickly wrapped up in her cloak because it was a dusty grey-green in color, and blended well into the forest scrub. Once hidden, she was nearly invisible, if she stayed perfectly still. Being a wise girl, Keridwen, therefore, remained perfectly still as the suspicious group approached.

Close up, the group looked even more like bandits. Keridwen was much relieved that she was hidden, and she didn't come out until few minutes after they had passed. There was something obviously suspicious about rough, dirty and ragged men wearing expensive, shiny jewelry, and the occasional rich cloak. Especially since some of the expensive looking cloaks had new looking rips with bloodstains on them. Keridwen had never really seen bandits before, but it did not seem likely to her that these men had acquired all their possessions by totally honest or peaceful means. There was just something about them that felt wrong.

Realizing that she had been mostly lucky in not running into such a group before Keridwen prudently, (of course) began to consider her chances if she were to encounter another group of bandits and be taken unawares. Now, if she were captured, the BEST thing that could happen would be to be held for ransom. Unfortunately, Keridwen was rather sure her father would not PAY to have her returned, considering the circumstances of her being out on her own in the first place. Likewise, Kerwidwen was rather unsure what all the less favorable possibilities might be, but was rather sure she would prefer not find them out first hand. Resolving to be very careful from now on, Keridwen cautiously continued on her way.

The rest of that day, only the sounds to reach her were of single travelers on horseback and of small carts. She did have a good conversation with an anxious raccoon mother, whose wayward young didn't want to go home for a nap. The next day, however, she heard the rumble of many horses. She rushed off to the side of the road again, hurrying since they sounded so close.

Ducking under a tree, she failed to notice the steep hillside under her left foot. When her foot failed to reach the expected ground in the time her body was expecting, she overbalanced - a little. At first, Keridwen thought it was just one more example of her legendary clumsiness. But when she did not immediately recover her footing, a feeling of dread began to possess her.

"This might be bad", she thought, "But, at least, there is no one who can yell at me now for being careless enough to have an accident".

Even with this cheery thought, Keridwen procceeded to twist her ankle and fall some more. As she tumbled down, of course, she overbalanced completely and rolled several more times. She would have continued to roll, but for the scrub branches that snagged her body and slowed up her passage. Even a large sharp rock Keridwen encountered on the way did not significantly slow her down. It did, however, at least mercifully remove her from consciousness for the remainder of her fall.

Come to think of it, this may even have helped her survive, by rather forcibly causing her body to relax. Finally, Keridwen rolled down to a lower section of the same road, that had wound down around the hill from which she fell and there she came to rest upon a pile of not-too-new horse manure. Despite helping to slow down her fall, the branches had done nothing for her clothing.

Fortunately for her, these were of sturdy material. This was less due to foresight, than to the short life-span of anything she owned delicately made. Only the sturdy clothing lasted any length of time. Still, Keridwen was a ragged and grimy bundle by the time she reached the bottom of the hill. Had she still been conscious, even Keridwen's casual standards would have been outraged. Not to mention, of course, whatever small amounts of dignity she possessed.

In fact, when you added in the bruises, dirt and the fact that her hair had come undone and tangled at least half the forest, you realized that poor Keridwen scarcely looked like a human being, and then, only at close range. One would first have to stop to examine the untidy bundle of rags at the side of the road. At that point, good eyesight would help in your assesment of her species.

(It would not do to let the tension build up unreasonably. Therefore, I will tell you now that Keridwen will lay there unconscious for several hours. Eventually, down the road will come what I'm sure you were all expecting ... a hungry dragon. While she is laying there unconscious waiting for this dragon to show up, you might also be wondering what happened to the other sisters. We have plenty of time to catch up with them before the dragon arrives so......)



By far, Betris was the most timid of the princesses. Had their father not locked the gate behind them, Keridwen might still have kept going. Betris, on the other hand, would certainly have bolted and begged to be taken back. In fact, Betris listened very carefully to see if the King HAD, in fact, locked the gate. This certain knowledge coupled with her dignity, is all that caused Betris to keep down the road. A princess could not be seen begging and weeping at the gate as a dignified ladylike thing to do. She was, however, outraged and horrified at what her own father had done.

After all, Betris WAS a princess and she staunchly felt she did not belong out here on a dirt road. In fact, she was right. She was the only one of the sisters who truly deserved to be called "princess". She had fulfilled her duties faithfully, and was, in fact, a shining model of what a princess should be. If any of these sisters deserved to have the titles and the privileges of a princess, and to live a soft, luxurious life in a castle, it was Betris.

Nonetheless, out there on a primitive and filthy dirt road, Princess Betris was walking to no particular place. Betris had only the vaguest idea of where the dragons might be. As she walked, she thought only about how to find them.

"East of Briarwood," had said the old blind harper. "Well", she mused, "I think I can find my way to Briarwood, and then I can ask around. After all, the walking is slow and I have plenty of time to make a decision."

It proved to be no problem to find Briarwood. Almost immediately, a small family wagon passed her going in the right direction. Being a kind couple, as well as young and romantic, they stopped and hailed the young woman and asked her where she was going. Innocent and trusting, Betris naively poured out the whole story to them, and thus revealed her "plan".

Betris was a little afraid that the nice young couple would laugh at her plan. It had always been Keridwen who spoke to the peasants outside the castle. While Betris was invariably kind to the servants, they were still a different quality than the people who worked the fields outside. But, in fact, the young couple were much impressed. Although they were merely peasants and could not read the tales, they had heard all the old ballads from the bards. Besides, they didn't have the faintest idea, either, what else one could do with a spare princess.

Instead of downplaying the "great plan", the couple enthusiastically added to it. Not only did they know there WERE dragons east of Briarwood (and a little to the north), but they had also heard there was a traditional "Princess Sacrificial Area" nearby. This was the place where ancient kings had left princesses to pacify the dragons, at least, on the surface. In actuality, of course, everyone knew princesses were always rescued first and that the dragon was killed. Or so firmly believed the couple and Betris. She was really thrilled at what she heard. Life for Betris was going well and according to plan.

Since this couple was actually going past Briarwood, so they obligingly took Betris the whole distance. This was a journey of several days and, therefore, no mean service since they also fed her from their meager stores. Being less crafty and much more trusting than Cassandra, Betris unwittingly had found herself homeless and wandering on the road with no money, much less provisions. The generousity of the couple warmed Betris's heart with gratitude.

As a token of thanks, Betris gave them one of the rings she was wearing to them. Although the little jewelry Betris had on was all that she had in the world, she didn't worry about poverty, much less hunger. For one, such things didn't happen to princesses. For another, she didn't have any idea what they might be like. So the kindly princess swore her undying gratitude to the young couple, and eventual greater reward someday when she was a great Queen.

The ring was worth a great deal to peasants. The young couple now had the means to buy a small cottage and a farm and found themselves overcome with tears. Betris smiled, knowing that she was doing her bit to help the kingdom along. She should have thought about wandering around and rewarding those who helped her earlier! After the couple had dropped off Betris and gone their way, the couple proceeded to buy themselves a cozy little farm and raise five children. They named the first daughter after Betris and wondered, contentedly, if they would ever see or hear of their princess again.

Once at Briarwood, Betris immediately made her way to the inn to get her bearings and to make any modifications to "the plan". Betris was such a plump and pretty girl, with an open cheerful countenance, that people usually warmed up to her quickly and thus, found it easy to talk to her. Knowing this about herself, she did not expect to find it difficult to gain the information she needed. Betris was not disappointed. Before the first two minutes were up Betris was in rapt conversation with the innkeeper, Eold, and his chatty wife, Matilda.

"And are there MANY dragons?" Betris asked breathlessly. "Many EVIL dragons? I mean, one old tired dragon might not be enough to do the trick. Besides, it would be sort of .. well, cheating. I really want to do this thing the right way", she confided in her usual trusting manner.

The innkeeper was, of course, pleased with her upright attitude, but it was the innkeeper's wife who answered. "Evil?" Matilda said, "Why, I heard they ate a small child last Tuesday, and her not even noble! It's bad enough them raiding the flocks, but a body isn't safe anymore!" she protested, speaking very fast and drawing a breath only when she had to. "Sheep, you expect, and well, they have to go after a princess, begging your pardon mistress, it's their nature after all and they can't help it. But going after the common folk when there are plenty of younger children in the baron's family-, It's not natural!" Matilda protested earnestly.

"Yep," Matilda continued after a sharp intake of breath. "It ate little Patricia Arnsdatter last Tuesday, he did. Ripped her head right off!" Matilda went on ghoulishly. "Ripped her head off and ate it and one of the arms! Left the rest! Can you beat that, didn't even bother to finish the whole child? What can you expect from a creature like that?"

Matilda's pause for breath started Betris trying to frame a reply but the good woman went on after another lung searing intake. "That's evil if I ever heard of evil," Matilda declared firmly. "Yep, left the body and the rest of the limbs just lying there to rot! Don't know why if he wasn't hungry he didn't kill a SMALLER child!" She continued in a self-righteous rage. "No, he has to take a whole eight-year-old and then leave the better part of her to rot. Didn't take it home with him even!"

"Never take more than you can eat," Matilda continued after the briefest of pauses. "I tell mine. Didn't I just this morning, Eold?" She entreated her nodding husband. Rushing on without waiting for the reply, he never even foolishly attempted to make, the garrulous wife continued. "It's wasteful and greedy. If you can't eat it, don't put it on your plate! Just this morning at breakfast I told mine children that, yes, I did! It's only right, and it takes a really selfish and ill-mannered creature to waste like that!"

"And the mess he left.. blood and gore all over the place! Didn't have the decency to tidy up a bit after eating the child in her own yard! And her poor mother having to do the extra cleaning. Isn't bad enough he ate Patricia before she did her chores. Her mother has to them now, and clean up Patricia too on top of that? And what can you do with half of a child?" she asked.

"Can't lay her out decent, what with her head gone and all. I suppose you could hide the arm, but what's the point without her face? You'd think the dragon could have eaten some less important part. Had to leave the casket closed, they did. And mind you, if he'd just eaten a smaller child, they wouldn't have had to go to all the trouble of burying what was left!"

Betris was suitably impressed with the evilness of the local dragon, and didn't even attempt to interrupt the innkeeper's voluble lady, but listened wide eyed to the stream. Besides which she herself was very hungry. The whole time Matilda talked she kept ladleing food out to Betris.

True to her words, Matilda didn't just heap Betris's plate up with bounty she might not finish, and therefore, waste. But every time Betris came near to finishing her food, Matilda was giving her another ladle of stew, a piece of bread, fruit, ale and so forth. Betris could easily see how Matilda had managed to reach her huge girth. Matilda was easily as wide as her husband was tall. True, he was a short man, but even so, Matilda was an impressive woman.

Matilda was also raptly enthusiastic about Betris' plan. "Well now, and you are a princess after all", she exclaimed. "And what is a princess to do but to find a dragon? Just as you ought to my dear, its only right and all. Now, if only the world had more like you that want to do right, it would be a better place!"

As Matilda actually paused to taste the stew and add a little spice, Betris attempted to thank her.

"Nonsense," Matilda interrupted. "Tis nothing, I've an inn, after all! You just spend the night here, and you can go find your prince in the morning. Can't go all exhausted", she insisted. "You should be looking your best with your face washed and your hair combed".

Betris was disappointed that no prince had already been sighted, but both she and Matilda were optimistic that one would show up as soon as they required one. After a good night's sleep on the Briarwood inn's best featherbed, Betris easily found her way to the dragon's "Princess Holding Area", or PHA for you connoisseurs of legends. Betris was very tidy, and the journey from the inn had still been a little wild so her dress had become a little disordered.

The tidy princess straightened out her hair and washed her face, before Betris proceeded to get out her sewing kit to fix the small damages to the hem and lace of her gown. Besides, it was a relaxing way to pass the time, and mending lace is very time-consuming.

Eventually, a large rustling in the bush announced the approaching presence of a large creature. Betris' pulse raced as she waited breathlessly for her grand destiny to overtake her. The rustling came closer, and soon Betris began to see foliage moving as something large moved through the trees towards her. Although she had tried to be intellectually prepared for this moment, Betris found herself not breathing in panic. Resolutely, Betris forced herself to be calm, in much the same way she silenced those fluttery feelings before a large diplomatic dinner. The rustles and movements came closer until finally the approaching creature showed himself.

It was a huge, frightening, and dangerous, dirty, drunken man. Astonished, Betris gaped with her mouth hanging open.

"What are you staring at pretty laidy?" he slurred.

Betris stared at him for long moments with her mouth dropped open in a very unladylike position.

Finally finding her voice, Betris blurted out in an offended voice, "What are YOU doing here? You're not a prince!"

"Well," the vile and filthy man replied, apparently astonished at her question, "No, what I AM is DRUNK! Never turned me into a prince yet! And if I might be seeing things.. I don't know why my drunkeness would make you think I was a PRINCE. Sure you ain't been hitting the bottle yourself, laidy? Come out here to tip a little wine did you now? Here there now, I'll share with ye."

In shocked, but firm, accents Betris informed him of her status, and the highlights of her plan and commanded him to be on his way.

"Well, you're not going to bring a dragon this way!" the drunk exclaimed, while scratching at something Betris didn't even want to think about. "You're just sitting here, not in any danger. Could just run away if a dragon came up. Ain't right now is it?" Without pausing in his speech, he suddenly gained control of his wobbly limbs, reached over, grabbed a chain (with manacle) that Betris hadn't noticed and locked it around her wrist. "There now! NOW you are in DANGER! A fine roast you'll make too, my lady. Meaning no disrespect, but you look as though you could fill a dragon's stomach pretty well for a while."

"Shame though about your jewelry," the drunk muttered as he helped himself to her necklace, bracelet and remaining rings. "Won't nourish a dragon much, would these?" He proceeded right through Betris's shriek's of outrage. He also continued through her shrieks of pain as he removed her necklace. He was, after all, a bit too drunk to manage the catch. "Best I take them then, my laidy", he explained in conciliatory tones. Then he wandered aimlessly off, whistling a merry tune.

This was a most unusual experience for Betris! She didn't often lose jewelry. In fact, she had often twitted Keridwen for her careless habits. Cassandra, of course NEVER lost jewelry. In fact, she seemed to acquire it without much effort, much like a gem-magnet. Since I am now reminded of Cassandra, let's leave Betris safely chained to the dragon stone (at the PHA), awaiting whatever it is fate chooses to mete out to her.



Although Cassandra had a great affinity for gems, it was now necessary for her to sell some of the jewelry she had stolen from her father in order to set up herself properly. As this was disturbing to her, Cassandra determined to set about acquiring the best possible price, to lessen the emotional pain of the loss. And, after all, she reminded herself, it was for this very purpose that she had stolen the gems in the first place.

Enus, the hard-eyed jewelry merchant, looked at Cassandra suspiciously as she came in. He had, of course, given her a private interview. He was no fool. He had had dealings with the middle princess in the past, and he had found them profitable, as long as he kept himself carefully alert. Dealing with royalty was tricky, but as with many gambles, the potential profits made it worthwhile. A private interview, after all, cost him nothing. This was something very important to Enus.

Cassandra gave her best imitation of a woman nearly prostrate with grief over her mother's death, but trying to bear up nobly under the strain. "It was my dear Mother's," she said in low tones, with just the right catch in her voice to show she was holding back the tears. She held up the second-rate ruby with the not- too-noticeable flaw that she had actually acquired surreptitiously from a careless guest at the castle some years ago. The princess made a move as if to put it back in her purse, gave the merchant a guilty look and then, hesitatingly, held it out again.

"Well", Cassandra said, looking unhappy," I'm sure my dear mother would want me to live decently. And with my poor father beside himself with grief, I just don't know what else to do.".

Enus noticed the flaw when he examined the ruby. He was far too astute of a jeweller to do otherwise. Cassandra's heartbroken act hadn't fooled him for a second. In any case, it would have availed her little had he been fooled. Enus would not have cared if Cassandra HAD been prostrate. Well, that is unfair. Had he believed her to be truly prostrate with grief he would have figured her too distraught to bargain well, and would have fought hard for a lower price. Being not in the least taken in, Enus didn't relax his guard. He did, however, put on a suitably conciliatory expression. Actually, Enus enjoyed Cassandra. She played the game as well as he did. She was a worthy opponent.

Enus was willing to offer her a decent price, even for the flawed ruby, but not from generosity. He knew that nearly any of his customers, especially those new to wealth and power, would pay twice the value of the stone to acquire something that was actually owned by the late queen, or one of the ex-princesses. His bargaining a bit with Cassandra was mostly symbolic, and to draw out the enjoyment a bit.

Cassandra knew she had failed to fool him, but never let up the role for a moment. When Enus tried to offer too low of a price, she would assume a frightened, lost expression and dissolve into tears. When pressed truly hard, she would sob into her handkerchief. When he gave ground, she would look piteously hopeful. It was great fun. Finally, Enus gave her the full value, plus a tiny bit more.

"To help you along, my dear," he told her. "I do hate to see so lovely a lady as yourself in such straits."

Cassandra thanked him profusely and left, promising to remember his kindness forever.

Enus was pleased with his deal. He knew that he would still gain a substantial profit on the ruby. It would make some other customer very happy to acquire the ruby, and the story of the bereft princess would only make the stone seem more valuable. And that meant that it would be more expensive. Chances were than Enus would clear three times the worth of the trumpery ring. The princess would gain sympathy at this broadcasting her misfortune, and probably gain other support as well.

He knew it would do his reputation only good to seem to be dealing generously with the princess, rather than trying to squeeze out her last penny. His customers would love it, and Enus would keep Cassandra as a customer himself. He was sure that in the future she would be acquiring more jewelry - jewelry that her admirers would have to acquire somewhere. Why shouldn't that somewhere be his very own shop? Although she was quite young, Cassandra had already had several admirers buy jewelry for her at Enus's shop, ever since she was fourteen. To stay on the lady's gracious side, would do him no end of good, Enus figured.

Cassandra was likewise pleased. Everything was working out perfectly for her, just as she had been sure all along it would. The second cook's mother was recently widowed. Cassandra had made it a point to know everything that went on in the castle, including with its servants. This was not out of any concern for their welfare, but a desire to be in control of everything. She gave the cook's mother, Agnus, a story similar to that she had given the gem merchant.

It had given Cassandra pause, whether to hire a honest woman or a dishonest confederate. If she hired a good-hearted, trustworthy woman, Cassandra would have to keep up the pretense in front of her. On the other hand, Cassandra certainly did not want to trust anyone like herself. The chances of ending up paying blackmail were too high.

"After all," Cassandra told herself, "I certainly wouldn't pass up a chance to gain the upper hand!"

Besides, keeping up the pretense at all times would be good exercise for the deception, Cassandra decided. It had been her experience that if you told the truth to so much as one person, it was a mistake. Telling the truth could get to be a habit, especially if caught unawares. If you kept it up, then you got sloppy and lazy. People might overhear you, or notice some shaded difference in their reactions to you. It left you open to blackmail and manipulation. Besides, a dishonest person would want more money to play the part, than would some honest woman who just wanted a chance to work hard for a decent living.

Out of work servants were abundent, and Cassandra had no trouble finding just the RIGHT one. Agnus turned out to be perfect. She was the motherly type, and she had been deeply affected when her own mother had died. Naturally, Agnus assumed that Cassandra must also be similarly stricken with grief. It was outside her frame of reference to believe otherwise. Not only was Agnus willing to work cheaply, but she immediately offered to work for a far lower wage than Cassandra was willing to be bargained down to. They settled for room and board, and a few coppers a week spending money. Agnus really did need more money to help out her still struggling son, but she didn't want to overtax the poor distraught princess. "It was far better to help than to take, after all", Agnus reasoned.

Cassandra now left old Agnus to do the work of finding a suitable lodging for them. For one thing, the looking was hard work. For another, it ill-suited her role to be driving a hard bargain with a landlord. For another thing, the poor old woman could get a better bargain than a young and healthy, and certainly beautiful, princess. Agnus, however, in her role as protective old dragon, could and would work extra hard to get the best possible deal for "her poor lady".

Next, Cassandra applied herself to the more enjoyable task of cozening a few gowns from sympathetic dressmakers. This went just as well as the dealings with the gem merchant. Dressmakers and milliners all knew that where Cassandra shopped, others would. Even if Cassandra never paid, it would be worth the investment. And of course, our sweet princess pled terrible poverty. The businesswomen could not give Cassandra a low price without running the risk of appearing to sell tacky goods. The more exorbitant the price, the more the rich women loved the dress. It made their rivals grind their teeth. Boasting of the price was in some cases more fun than simply showing up with the most elegant gown. To wear the most expensive was also a status symbol of high acclaim.

Consequently, the various businesswomen charged Cassandra the normal exorbitant rates for her clothes, hats, cloaks and accessories. But the dressmaker agreed that Cassandra would pay them, "when she could". It was a formality that all were aware was unlikely to ever happen. Still, there was a form to be followed, and no one could accuse the dressmaker of providing cheap gowns, or being so gauche as to give her free gowns for the advertising.

Cassandra would groan about the exorbitant price she owed for them. Her rivals would then be compelled to come and buy equally fashionable garments and the same exorbitant prices.. or face the indignity of being hopelessly overshadowed. These other customers would, however, have to pay for their exquisite new clothes.

With all the minimum necessary props in place, Cassandra happily began to apply herself to finding the answer to a maiden's dream, a rich merchant with a shrewish, ugly wife. After that, she rationed that she could find some nice young man to toy about with for casual entertainment. It just wasn't terrbly FUN to blackmail her ex-lovers. She needed some innocence to destroy. A kind heart to affect, to enslave, to torture, to enjoy. Now that Cassandra no longer had the eyes of her father and nosy sister Betris around, her future was made. It was the start of a new, wonderful life.

...To be continued in the next issue of Weyr Live/Live Weyr