n the city called
Grand lived a boy named Willem. The city was fabled for its tall crystal spires,
for its shops full of rare merchandise and
for its good and beautiful Princess. But Willem was too busy searching the
ground for lost coins to notice the spires, he never had money to buy
from the fancy shops and the Princess
Morena didn't know he existed, much less care. Willem was a street boy.
He was not
respectable. He wore dirty rags, and his bare feet were always splashed with
mud. He didn't get much to eat, so he was smaller than other boys his age, and
thinner. His hair was uncombed, and his face was dirty. He earned his living in nasty ways. He stood outside
taverns and sang rude songs, to make the drinking men laugh and throw
coins. He stole fruit from the fruit carts, and cooling bread from behind the
bakery. He picked coins from people's
pockets, and locks came unlocked under his fingers. He was nasty and
suspicious, and no one liked him.
Except Agatha. Agatha
was a potter who lived in the forest at the city's edge. A bubbling spring fed
the stream that flowed past her cottage. She dug clay from the stream banks, softened it with the spring's water
and turned it into pots on her wheel. She once told Willem that her
spring used to be a unicorn's spring. Once
folk came to it from far and near; some to drink of its curing waters,
some hoping for a glimpse of the unicorn. The unicorn, she said, was a marvelous beast, shining with honor, wisdom
and strength.
Just to see
him strengthened the soul. But others came also, hunters who wished to kill the unicorn for
his magical horn. Yet he always managed to escape them and return to his spring.
Then one day
Princess Morena rode past the spring. Her goodness and beauty were so
great that the unicorn followed Princess Morena back to her palace to live with her forever. The King had a wondrous maze built,
and there he had hidden the unicorn, safe always from the hunters. Now only Princess Morena
and her mute handmaiden knew the way through the maze to the unicorn and the
curing water he touched with his horn. Now he wore a jeweled halter and ate the
finest foods. His old spring was only a place of cool water and green grass.
Agatha had told Willem that story when he
was very sick. A pastry vendor had caught him stealing an apple tart from his
cart, and had given Willem a terrible beating. Willem had barely been able to
crawl away into an alley. There Agatha had found him when she came to town to
sell her sturdy pots. She had loaded Willem up on her old donkey and taken him
home to her cottage. She had nursed him until he was better, and then put him to
work helping her dig clay and even showed him how to shape the red lumps into
pots on her wheel. Willem had cared little for such work.
"Why," he
asked her, "should I muck in mud all day, to make a pot worth a few pennies? I could
steal that much in the wink of an eye!"
Agatha had
shaken her head. "Willem, Willem. Stealing is wrong. Work honestly for your pennies. It's
unkind to take someone else's."
Willem
laughed. "Unkind? Why should I care? They've never been kind to me! They hold their
noses when I pass, they
chase me from their stores. Why should I be kind to them?"
"Be kind to
them for kindness' sake or . . ."
Agatha paused. "Or because if they catch
you stealing again, they'll cut your hand off. Or worse. You've seen what they
do to thieves in the Punishment Square. Do you want that to be you?"
"They'd never
catch me!" Willem boasted. Still he shivered, remembering the thief who had been
caught breaking into the unicorn's maze. The execution had been in the
Punishment Square. The Royal Guards had thrown him into a cage with a tiger. A
hungry tiger. Willem had watched, too horrified to look away. He still had
nightmares about it. Yet that didn't stop him from running away from Agatha as
soon as he was well. He didn't trust her kindness. "She only wants to get work
out of me," he told himself.
Back to the
city he went, to sing his nasty songs on corners, stealing coins and bread. Still, sometimes, on rainy nights, he went back to Agatha's cottage. She always
let him in and gave him a bowl of hot soup. But she also scolded him for his
wild ways, and if he wanted to sleep by her fire, he had to first study his
letters. Willem saw no sense in letters; he did it only to earn his place by the
fire. Agatha knew that as soon as the weather turned warm again, Willem would
return to the city.
He liked his wild life. He had no chores
or lessons. He was free to hang about the city gates, greeting the rich caravans
and sometimes guiding a wealthy noble to the palace for a few coins. People came
from distant kingdoms, their horses laden with treasure, to buy the tiny flasks
of unicorn water that the Princess sold. Poor people also came to the city
gates, but Willem didn't guide them to the palace. They had no pennies for him,
and he knew that they would get no unicorn water. The unicorn water was very
costly. Not a single drop was ever given away, no matter how one begged. Sometimes Willem felt sorry for the people who came so far to beg water and were
turned away. But there was nothing he could do to help them.
Occasionally,
Willem would visit Agatha in the market where she sold her pots. She'd ask what
he'd been doing, and if he'd been earning pennies as a guide, she would be
pleased. When he had been idling and stealing, she would sadly scold him. After
a while, he just didn't visit her on his stealing days. Sometimes many days
passed without Agatha seeing him.
One cold and
windy day, Willem decided to visit Agatha. "Maybe I can load her unsold pots and
lead her donkey home. Then she'll give me a bowl of soup. And I can sleep by her
fire, after I study those silly letters." But Agatha wasn't at the market
square. "Perhaps," he thought, "Agatha didn't come to market today. I'll go to
her cottage."
Her little donkey brayed when he saw Willem,
kicking up such a fuss that Willem went to
his pen. The poor beast had neither food nor drink. "That's odd," thought Willem
as he fetched hay and water for it. "Agatha never leaves her donkey hungry or
thirsty." He knocked on her cottage door. There was no answer. Willem pushed the
door open.
Agatha lay on
the floor, too sick to move.
Willem put
her to bed, and fetched cool water from the spring for her. Then he cooked her
some soup, and tidied the cottage. Dust was thick on the table and the clay dry
on her wheel. Agatha had been sick for many days. "If I had not come today," Willem thought
to himself, "perhaps she would have died, all alone out here!"
Agatha wouldn't even try to eat the soup he made.
"I am too sick," she whispered hoarsely.
"And too old. I am going to die, Willem. When I do, I want you to have my
cottage and donkey and potter's wheel. Live an honest life, Willem, and I
won't mind dying so much."
Those words bothered Willem much more than any of
her scoldings. "Don't be silly," Willem told her. "We'll get you well, and
you'll go on being a potter. And I'll go on being a thief."
"No." Agatha shook her head. "I've had this
sickness before, when I was a little child. I nearly died then, but my father
took me to the unicorn's spring. The water flowed silver, and I drank some and
was cured. That was many years ago. Now the unicorn lives in a fancy maze, and
wears a jeweled halter. There is no hope for me, Willem. My strength is gone. Please stay with me. I don't want to die alone."
"Silly talk!" Willem turned away so she wouldn't
see his tears. "Did you think that I would let you die? No! I'll just nip off to
the city and steal a flask of the unicorn's water. I'll be back before the sun
rises."
"Please, Willem, don't!" begged Agatha. "It's hard
enough to die alone! Don't make me die knowing you've gone to your death for me.
Only Princess Morena knows the way through the maze. It has many a cunning trap
to kill a thief. And if you survive the maze and are caught . . ." Agatha
shuddered and coughed.
"I know, I know," said Willem. "Then it's into the
tiger's cage for me!" He tried to sound carefree. "But I won't be caught,
Agatha! I'm the slyest, swiftest thief in the city of Grand. Have no fear for
me!" He put more wood on the fire and went out the door, heedless of her pleas.
Despite his bragging, Willem shook as he hurried
toward the city. No thief had ever survived the terrible traps of the unicorn
maze; the pits with sharp stakes in the bottom, the ponds of flesh-eating fish,
the poisonous snakes, the great fanged beasts, the spring knifes and choking
vines. "Only the Princess and her mute handmaiden know the path to the unicorn." When Willem said that, a strange idea came to him.
Every evening, the Princess and her handmaiden
were escorted from the palace by twenty Royal Guardsmen. The handmaid carried a
little silver bucket and a brown wicker basket. The Good and Beautiful Princess
Morena always wore a white silk gown with a golden sash. The Guardsmen marched
around them until they came to the black gate that sealed the unicorn's maze. From there the Princess and the handmaid went on alone.
Willem began to run.
He reached the city without a moment to lose. The
Princess and her handmaid were just coming down the palace's marble steps.
Willem pushed through the watching crowd. Down a twisting alley he ran, up a
side street, then up a rain barrel onto a roof, across five more roofs and then
down an ivy trellis. He stood facing the barred iron gate to the unicorn maze.
The street was quiet. The gate bars were as thick
as his wrist, and didn't rattle; they were too close together for him to slip
between, and too stout to bend. The gate could withstand the strongest thief. But it hadn't been built to withstand a skinny boy. Willem lay down, his face in
the dirt, and forced his head under the gate. The bottom of the gate scraped his
ear and as he wriggled under it, his ragged shirt tore. But he was inside the
unicorn maze. He heard the trumpets and marching feet that heralded the arrival
of the Princess. The walls of the maze were formed by a prickly hedge thick with
wicked thorns. Willem huddled like a hunted rabbit in their shelter. Crouching
low, he held his breath and watched.
The Princess had arrived. From her golden sash she
took a black key. The great gate swung open before her. The handmaid pushed it
shut behind them and it locked with a loud clack. The Guardsmen turned away and
sheathed their swords as the Princess entered the maze. They did not see the
shadow that crept from the hedge to follow her.
The Princess Morena's white gown shone like a
beacon as Willem hurried after it. And he did have to hurry, for the Princess
lifted her skirts and strode rapidly as soon as she was out of sight of the
people. Willem tried to keep track of the turnings they made, the lefts and
rights, the statues and benches they passed, but in his rush to keep up with the
Princess he soon lost track. He dared not follow her too closely, nor lag too
far behind. Once he turned a corner and could not see her. His heart fell, but
he heard a scolding voice and hastened toward it. It was the Princess.
"Oh, hurry up, Elsie, do! Tie your slipper later. I had to leave three handsome Princes to do this silly errand. I don't know why
father insists I come. You know the way perfectly well and could go alone. But
he says we must keep up appearances. Silly idea. The unicorn is mine. That's all
that matters. Elsie, come along!"
Elsie rose from tying her slipper and went. And a
small shadow followed, thinking that the Good and Beautiful Princess Morena was
also a nag. On they went, and on, through the twisting maze. Then suddenly the
maze opened into a great square, with statues and benches of silver and marble. A fountain splashed high in the center. Willem ducked behind a bench. He heard a
rustling and a rattling and several small thumps. The Princess spoke. "Hurry up,
Elsie, I haven't got all night! And you—out of my way, you disgusting old
thing." There was a splash as the handmaid filled her bucket, and then the
rustle of the Princess' gown and the tap of her shoes. Willem waited until they
were gone. Then he stood up.
He crept to the edge of the fountain's pool and
stopped. Agatha had been wrong. Willem saw no honor or wisdom or strength. He
saw bony and mangy and old. The unicorn was the homeliest creature he had ever
seen. The beast stared at him with red eyes, then lifted his horn and shook it
angrily at Willem. Willem stared back, then laughed. "You can't get me!" he said
boldly. "You're chained down."
And he was. A tiny bridge led to the unicorn's
island in the fountain. Chains of black iron were locked tight just above each
cloven hoof. He wore a halter of silver studded with jewels. An iron chain
fastened him to the manger, and the weight of the halter kept his head bowed, so
that the spray of the fountain landed on the glistening horn and dripped from
there to a marble basin. "There," Willem thought. "That's the unicorn water!"
Over the slick stone bridge he crept, onto the
unicorn's island. It was littered with rotten fruit, with a basketful of fresh
spilled atop the old pieces in the manger. Willem hooked a peach from the top of
the heap. "Seeing as how you don't care to eat it," he told the creature. The
unicorn made an ugly sound and lunged awkwardly. Willem avoided him easily. The
chains slowed him down.
The unicorn water in the marble trough shimmered
silver. Willem stared at the water. Here he was, where no thief had ever stood
before. Slyest of the sly was Willem, boldest of the bold. "And stupidest of the
stupid!" Willem declared angrily, for he had nothing to fetch the water in. The
ancient unicorn poked Willem with his spiraling horn. "Ouch! Get lost, you ugly
old thing!" he cried angrily, shoving the beast away. With a sharp cry of pain,
the unicorn staggered sideways, then slipped to his knees.
Willem looked down on him, torn between surprise
and shame. He hadn't meant to hurt the creature. He remembered what it was like
when the big boys pushed him down and kicked him because he was small and
ragged. The unicorn looked up at him with eyes full of anger and pain. Willem
understood those feelings. He knelt by the fallen animal, looking at the patchy
coat and thin body. "They don't feed you right, do they?" he said softly. The
cruel black chains had chafed the creature's legs raw. Exhausted with pain, he
set his head down and the jewels in the silver halter rang against the bare hard
stone. The unicorn shivered in the chilling mist from the fountain.
Willem was a thief and a liar, a teaser and a
cheat. Yet he was also a boy who had been alone and hurt once, and received
kindness from a stranger. Something turned over in his heart. He looked closely
at the chains. "Huh!" he told the unicorn. "I've picked tougher locks than
these. I'll have you free in half a minute."
It was not as easy as he thought. He had a bent
pin, such as many a thief carried in the hem of his shirt. But the light was
fading, and the captive didn't know the boy was a friend. The unicorn waved his
horn feebly and kicked at Willem. When that failed to drive the boy away, the
unicorn snapped and then swatted Willem in the face with his lion's tail. Still
Willem worked doggedly on, until every slender leg was freed. The halter proved
easier, for though it was chained to the trough, only heavy iron buckles held it
to the unicorn's head. When it dropped away the old unicorn raised his head
slowly, as if he found the sudden freedom strange. He rose and staggered away.
"Wait!" Willem called. "You don't know the way!"
But the unicorn did not understand what he said. He found a tussock of grass by a marble bench and nibbled it hungrily. "We have
to get out of here!" Willem told him. "Do you want to be captured again?" The
unicorn feinted at him with his horn, but was old and weak and Willem was fast
as a pickpocket. He seized the slender horn and gripped it. "Come on," he said,
and dragged the unicorn into the maze.
Evening had faded to night. In the darkness the
maze was strange. "Did I turn here?" wondered Willem. "Have I seen that statue
before?" And with every step, the unicorn backed and struggled. Once Willem took
a wrong turning. He stumbled over a set wire, and an arrow whizzed above his
head. Luckily the arrow had been set for an adult thief, not a boy like Willem. Back he went, tugging the weary unicorn along, until he was on the right path
again. Once he heard a snuffling sound on the other side of the hedge, and then
a growl. He hurried on, turning to the left, remembering that statue of Cupid,
and that clump of thorny blossoms. At last they came to the great iron gate.
"As for me," Willem whispered, "I can wriggle
under it. But what about you?"
With a sudden lunge the unicorn broke free. "No!"
cried Willem, grabbing at his horn. "Come back here!" The creature dodged away
from him, then suddenly paused. The unicorn looked at the gate that led to
freedom, and at the small boy who seemed to block the way. His eyes grew bigger. The weariness in them changed suddenly to proud defiance. Slowly he straightened
his spindly legs. He lifted his head high, and his thin neck arched proudly. "You can't do it," whispered Willem as he watched the beast gather his pitiful
strength. "Please don't try!"
The unicorn leaped upward.
Willem had seen horses jump and goats frisk and
deer bound. But never had he seen the leap of a unicorn. For an instant, the
unicorn soared and was all Agatha had said he was, noble and wise and strong. Willem's heart rose in his throat as the unicorn cleared the gate.
Then the brave leap ended in a staggering crash.
The force of it drove the unicorn to his knees. He collapsed in the dusty
street, the last of his strength spent. He lay still.
Under the gate went Willem, scraping his back and
leaving skin behind. He knelt by the rickety old unicorn whose eyes were closed. Fearfully, he put his hand on the bony ribs. The unicorn half-opened his eyes
and snorted weakly. "You dummy!" said the boy. "I'll have to help you."
The old unicorn had been starved and weighed
little more than Agatha's donkey. But Willem was not a large, husky lad, only a
skinny beggar-boy. Sweat stood on his forehead before he got the old unicorn to
his feet. And that was only the beginning of the task. They staggered together
down the dusky streets. At any moment, Willem expected to hear the shout of a
city guard.
Out of the city they tottered, into the forest,
and past Agatha's hut to her donkey's stall. The little donkey drew back in
astonishment. Willem shook down straw to make a soft bed for the unicorn. There
the creature sank to his knees. "I'll be right back!" Willem said.
Agatha's bucket lay by the water's edge. Willem
snatched it up. "I'll dip his horn in this to make unicorn water to cure
Agatha," he said as he filled the bucket. "Then I'll find him some sweet hay to
eat. Poor old thing."
When Willem got to the stall with his bucket, the
unicorn was gone. No sign remained of him except for a crushed place in the
straw.
Willem had failed. Agatha would die. "This is what
comes," he said bitterly, "of being kind. Agatha was kind to me, but I let her
chance for life slip through my fingers. I was kind to that wretched beast, but
he ran away from me. I should have pushed the ugly thing into the pond!" Yet
even in his despair, his hands remembered the tingling warmth of the unicorn's
body. He knelt to touch the spot where the creature had lain.
He went at last to sit by Agatha's bedside. There
was nothing else he could do. She was so pale and worn that it hurt to look at
her. Toward dawn, she woke. "Did you steal the unicorn's water?" she asked
worriedly. Willem shook his head. Slowly he told her the whole story. Agatha
listened, nodding now and then. He finished by saying, "And then the stupid old
thing ran away."
Agatha smiled. She reached to touch his hand. "Willem," she said weakly. "Just because you help something, it doesn't mean you
own it. Some things," she added, "have to keep their freedom, to keep on being
what they are. Maybe the unicorn feared you were going to trap him. Be glad you
helped him, for kindness' sake."
"He should have understood," Willem insisted
angrily.
"Maybe, someday, he will," Agatha said
comfortingly. Her hand fell back to her covers. "A drink of water, please," she
asked. Her voice was fading. She would not last much longer. Willem took the
bucket and went.
He tucked up his trousers and waded out into the
stream to where the water was cool and clear. He dipped the bucket and watched
the water run into it. Suddenly a strand of flowing silver twirled into the
bucket, transforming the water into a shimmering mirror. Willem straightened
slowly, saw the spring gleaming silver all around him. And just upstream . . .
He was still old and thin. The scars of the chains
still marred his slender legs. But his coat gleamed clean and white and his head
was lifted proud and free. An errant drop of water fell from the spiraling horn
he lifted in salute to Willem. A shiver ran up Willem's spine. He lifted his
hand in greeting, but the unicorn was already turning. With stately tread he
moved away until his white shape was lost among the silver birch trees. When
Willem looked down again, the spring ran with ordinary water. But the water in
his bucket shone silver with magic.
Agatha drank it. Two days later she was turning
pots again. This time, Willem didn't run away back to the city. He never learned
to read or how to turn pots. He did learn to recognize kindness, and found he
had a talent for shaping clay with his hands. In years to come, many traders
came from far away to buy his statues of unicorns. When they asked how he knew
so well the shape of the beast, he would only look at his hands and smile.
As for the Good and Beautiful Princess Morena,
without unicorn water to bathe her face every day, she became quite homely. She
had to content herself with marrying an Earl's younger son rather than a
handsome Prince. She went away with him, and the unicorn maze grew wild and
unkempt. Even so, many folk still believed the unicorn lived there. Willem knew
better, but he never told.
"If they think he's there," he said to Agatha one
evening, "then they'll never go hunting him elsewhere." Then a thoughtful look
crossed Willem's face. He looked at the clay unicorn he was shaping. "I wonder
how he finally knew that I wasn't trying to trap him. What made him finally know
I meant him kindness?"
"I wonder, too," Agatha agreed. But it was not the
unicorn statue she looked at as she asked the question, but Willem.
