The Princess and the Monster

Long, long ago in the very olden time, before the good St. Patrick took his staff to the serpents, there lived two kings in Ireland. One was a man stout and strong, like a good Irishman ought to be. They called him the Good King. He had one daughter, and it was beautiful she was.

The other king was hardly a man at all, for he was of the breed of monsters. Hairy and huge and hideous he was, and no man had stood against him and lived. Men called him the Giant.

One day the Giant came calling upon the Good King, and by chance--and sure you'll be saying it was a black chance--his eyes fell upon the Princess, and his mouth watered.

" 'Tis a fair daughter you have," he said to the Good King. "I'm thinkin' maybe 'twouldn't be such a bad thing to be married to a lass like her."

"There's never a better girl in all Erin," replied the Good King. "And I'd best be tellin' you here and now that I've betrothed her to Ewan of the Dark Hair."

The Giant frowned. "It's myself she'll be marryin'," he roared, "or it's war we'll have between us! Call this Ewan and let me have a word with him. If there's half a brain in the lad's dark head, he'll be leavin' off all claim to her."

The Good King sent for Ewan and told him all the Giant had said, and Ewan answered like any good young Irishman would have under the circumstances.

"So that's the trim of it, is it?" he said, looking straight into the eyes of the Giant. "There'll be no war between the kingdoms, but between me and this Goliath there'll be mortal combat."

"So be it," said the Good King. "But get to your prayers, lad, and set your affairs in order. There's never any knowin' and 'tis a good thing to be ready in case ..."

Ewan knew well enough what the Good King meant, and he trembled in his brogans. The Giant towered above him, was twice as broad and 10 times as strong, and his sword was as long as a boatman's oar. But then Ewan looked at the Princess and found her smiling. As she passed him on her way to the palace, she had time to whisper a few encouraging words.

"If it's life you're yearnin' for," she murmured, "and my own true love, see that your back's to the royal pavilion and that the Giant is facing it."

And with that she was gone.

The next dawning, not a man in the whole city but was turned out for the fray, and not a woman either. Ewan and the Giant faced each other, a mere man and a great monster. They then turned and faced the Good King as he sat in the royal pavilion ready to state the rules. His daughter sat to his right and somewhat behind him.

"Draw swords," said the King, "fight fair like good Irishmen, and may the best man win."

A bugle sounded, the Giant raised his blade, and if he'd hit his mark, Ewan of the Dark Hair would have gone to glory then and there. The next cut was even closer, and Ewan knew that his time was near.

Then he remembered the words of the Princess: If it's life you're yearnin' for, and my own true love, see that your back's to the royal pavilion and that the Giant is facing it. Ewan decided to give it a try. He worked the Giant around until the big one's face was toward the spectators and his own was toward the trees beyond the meadow.

The Giant shouted with glee. "There's no tellin'," he bellowed, "just when I'll cleave you, lad. And you'll not make me hurry, either. I'll not finish you off 'till the Princess sees what a man she's gettin' in me and how poor lookin' you can be even before you're cut in pieces."

Ewan gritted his teeth and said to himself: "It's a tight corner you're in, Ewan my boy. And I'm thinkin' that if the Princess is out to help you, she'd best be at it."

Suddenly the Giant looked past Ewan and dropped the point of his sword ever so little. Ewan saw his eyes open very wide and his mouth fall slack. The sword's point dropped a little lower.

Ewan should have run him through then and there, but his eyes pulled around to the pavilion in spite of him. What he saw made his own eyes open very wide.

Behind the King, unseen by the spectators because they were all watching the field, stood the Princess. A flood of golden hair rippled over her naked shoulders and fell to her waist. She had opened her robe. Her breasts were perfect and as white as a summer's moon on a clear night. She pivoted slowly on her chair and displayed the graceful curve of her hip. All the way round she turned until her back was toward them. The robe fell down around her feet and mother nude she was for them to see. The Giant's sword's point dropped until it touched the grass.

Then Ewan understood. He tore his eyes away.

" 'Tis the moment I was needin'," he said, and with one swift thrust he passed his blade through the Giant's thick neck.

As the monster fell, no one but Ewan heard him cry, " 'Twas the woman killed me, little man, not yourself."

And that was how the Princess saved Ewan of the Dark Hair and escaped the embraces of the Giant. And that was why Ewan set an even higher value on the Princess' weapons than young men are accustomed to set upon such things. And all his life he cherished them and kept them bright and keen through use.

"'Tis a fair daughter you have," said the hideous brute.