I have a special treat for you today. My guest blogger for Leap Day is Emma Newman, the scriptera profundata of the post-apocalyptic novel 20 Years Later and the creepy anthology From Dark Places. Today, she presents the latest installment in her Split Worlds series, an urban fantasy that mixes gritty noir with evil faeries in equal measure. Please welcome Emma, and enjoy her story, The Miller's Daughter. - Tony
And thank YOU, Emma! To find Emma Newman on the web, visit her blog at http://www.enewman.co.uk, and follow her on Twitter as @emapocalyptic. She's a talented writer and a delightful person.
===== Feel free to comment on this or any other post.
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This is the eighteenth tale in a year and a day
of weekly short stories set in The Split Worlds. If you would like me to read it to you
instead, you can listen here.
You can
find links to all the other stories, and the new ones as they are
released here. - Em
The Miller's Daughter
The
door slammed shut behind her, she listened to the key in the lock and the
King's footsteps as he left her alone in the room. The miller's daughter looked
at the piles of straw, the spinning wheel, the empty spindles and wept. How
could the King be so stupid as to believe her father's boast? How could her
father have been so stupid as to make such a boast in the first place? Was her
life to be cut short by stupid men all around her? She kicked the spindles,
scattering them across the floor, the flagstones were spattered with bitter
tears.
The
door opened, she hadn't heard the key in her anger, and a man unlike any she'd
ever seen before entered. His hair was long and white, his eyes black, his face
beautiful and terrifying all at once. The scent of flowers filled the room, he
was taller than even the King himself. She shrank away from him as he shut the
door.
"Good
evening mistress miller," he said. "Why are you weeping so?"
"Because
I am cursed with an idiot for a father and a fool for a king," she said,
wiping the tears from her cheeks, wondering if he were an angel sent by God to
save her. "I'm supposed to spin this straw into gold but I don't know
how."
"What
will you give me if I spin it for you?"
"My
necklace," she said, it being the most valuable thing she owned.
The
man held out a hand and she placed the necklace on the pale palm, marvelling at
how long and slender his fingers were. Then she watched as he sat at the wheel
and in three turns, spun a reel full of gold with just a few pieces of straw.
"Are
you an angel?" she whispered, kneeling beside him.
"No
child," he smiled and stroked her cheek.
She
fell asleep as he worked, and when she woke at the turn of the key in the door
the room was filled with spools of gold. The King entered, eyes wide and he
took her hands and stroked her fingers.
He
led her out silently, as they walked down the corridor his hand tightened
around her wrist and she knew she wouldn't see the sun that day. She was taken
to an even larger room, one being filled with even more straw. "Spin all
of this into gold if you value your life."
The
door was locked and she wept again, her fury channelled into hot tears. The sun
set and as the anger turned to despair, the door opened silently once again and
the white-haired man entered the room.
"What
will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you?"
Aside
from her clothes, all she had in the world was a ring that once belonged to her
mother. "The ring from my finger."
The
man took it, sat at the wheel and began to spin the straw into gold.
"Are
you a demon?" she whispered, kneeling beside him.
"No
child," he smiled and stroked her cheek.
She
woke at sunrise in a room filled with gold. When the King arrived, his gaze
flicked between the gold and her breasts and her hips, she blushed and hoped
the tongue moistening the fat man's lips would never touch her skin. His hand
on the back of her neck, he walked her out of the room, into another even
larger, being filled with straw.
"You
must spin all this into gold tonight. If you succeed, you shall become my
wife."
The
door was locked, the miller's daughter cursed her father, cursed the King and
tried not to think of his fingers worming their way under her bodice. The sun
set, the fear returned but once more, the door opened and the white-haired man
returned.
"What
will you give me if I spin the straw into gold once more?"
"I
have nothing left to give," she said.
"Then
promise me your first child when you become queen."
She
planned to be far away before the grotesque king had bedded her, so she agreed
and knelt beside him once again to watch him spin the straw.
"Are
you a sorcerer?"
The
man laughed so loudly she feared the King himself would hear. "No
child," he said.
Once
again, the room was filled with spun gold when the sun rose. The King was so
pleased he locked the miller's daughter in a room with furniture and generously
provided guards at the door as the wedding was prepared. She watched the sun
set from the tiny window, weeping at the thought of the conjugal night, wishing
the white-haired man would return once more. And when the room was dark and her
hope at its nadir, the door opened.
"What
now, mistress miller? Have I not saved your life and elevated you to royalty as
your father bargained for?"
The
miller's daughter realised her father was not a fool after all. "But,
sweet prince of magic," she said, kneeling at his feet. "What would
you want with the grandchild of a miller?"
"The
child will have royal blood and I would have its devotion."
"Give
me a better King, let my children stay by my side, and you will not only have
my devotion, but that of every child from my line as long as it endures."
"Devotion
in return for a life with your children, that I will grant," agreed the
white-haired man.
"But
what will you give me if I replace the King with one of your liking?"
"Will
the life of my father suffice?"
He
smiled. "You are your father's daughter. I, Lord Iris of the Fae, accept
your bargain."
---
Thanks for hosting, Tony!
I hope you enjoyed the story. If you
would like to find out more about the Split Worlds, it's all here: www.splitworlds.com – you can also sign
up to get an extra story and get each new story delivered to your inbox every
week. If you would like to host a story over the coming year, either let me
know in the comments or contact me through the Split Worlds site. - Em x
~~~***~~~
And thank YOU, Emma! To find Emma Newman on the web, visit her blog at http://www.enewman.co.uk, and follow her on Twitter as @emapocalyptic. She's a talented writer and a delightful person.
===== Feel free to comment on this or any other post.
I like this ending *so* much better than the traditional one!
ReplyDeleteI love this twist on an old story. Like father, like daughter. Really says something about the human condition.
ReplyDelete