The Magician’s Horse

Once upon a time, there was a king who had three sons. One day the three princes went hunting in a big forest far from their father’s palace. The youngest prince got lost, and his brothers had to return home without him.

For four days the prince wandered through the forest. At night he slept on moss under the stars, and by day he ate roots and wild berries. On the morning of the fifth day, he came to a large open space in the middle of the forest.

There stood a grand palace, but there was no sign of any people anywhere. The prince walked through the open door and wandered through empty rooms. At last he found a great hall. In the middle of the hall was a table covered with delicious food and fine wine.

The prince sat down and ate and drank until he was full. As soon as he finished, the table vanished. The prince thought this was very strange, but he kept searching through all the rooms, upstairs and down, and found no one to talk to.

Just as it started to get dark, he heard footsteps and saw an old man coming up the stairs.

“What are you doing wandering around my castle?” asked the old man.

The prince replied, “I lost my way while hunting in the forest. If you will take me into your service, I would like to stay with you and serve you faithfully.”

“Very well,” said the old man. “You may enter my service. You must always keep the stove lit. You will fetch wood for it from the forest. You will also take care of the black horse in the stables. I will pay you a gold coin each day. At mealtimes you will find the table in the hall spread with food and wine, and you may eat and drink as much as you want.”

The prince was satisfied and began to work for the old man. He promised to always keep wood on the stove so the fire never went out. But what he did not know was that his new master was a magician. The flame of the stove was a magic fire. If it went out, the magician would lose much of his power.

One day the prince forgot and let the fire burn so low that it nearly went out. Just as the flame was flickering, the old man stormed into the room.

“What do you mean by letting the fire burn so low?” he growled. “I arrived just in time.” While the prince quickly threw a log on the stove and blew on the ashes to make a flame, his master gave him a hard box on the ear and warned him that if it ever happened again, he would be in serious trouble.

Another day the prince sat sadly in the stables. To his surprise, the black horse spoke to him.

“Come into my stall,” it said. “I have something to tell you. Fetch my bridle and saddle from that cupboard and put them on me. Take the bottle that is beside them. It contains an ointment that will make your hair shine like pure gold. Then pile all the wood you can gather onto the stove until it is stacked up high.”

The prince did what the horse told him. He saddled and bridled the horse. He put the ointment on his hair, and it shone like gold. He made such a big fire in the stove that the flames leaped up and set the roof on fire. In a few minutes the palace was burning like a huge bonfire.

He hurried back to the stables. The horse said, “There is one more thing you must do. In the cupboard you will find a looking-glass, a brush, and a riding-whip. Bring them with you. Mount on my back and ride as fast as you can, because now the house is burning well.”

The prince did as the horse said. As soon as he was in the saddle, the horse galloped away so fast that soon the forest and all the magician’s land were far behind them.

Meanwhile, the magician returned to his palace and found it in smoking ruins. He called for his servant, but no one answered. At last he went to the stables and saw that the black horse was gone. He guessed they had left together. He mounted a roan horse that was in the next stall and set off in pursuit.

As the prince rode, the horse’s sharp ears heard the sound of following feet.

“Look behind you,” said the horse, “and see if the old man is following.” The prince turned in his saddle and saw a cloud like smoke or dust in the distance.

“We must hurry,” said the horse.

After they had galloped for a while, the horse said again, “Look behind and see if he is still far away.”

“He is quite close,” answered the prince.

“Then throw the looking-glass on the ground,” said the horse. The prince threw it. When the magician came up, the roan horse stepped on the mirror. Crash! His foot went through the glass. He stumbled and fell, cutting his feet so badly that the old man had to slowly go back to the stables and put new shoes on his horse. Then they started chasing the prince again, because the magician valued the horse greatly and was determined not to lose it.

Meanwhile, the prince had gone a long way, but the black horse’s sharp ears heard the sound of following feet from far away.

“Dismount,” said the horse. “Put your ear to the ground and tell me if you hear a sound.”

The prince dismounted and listened. “I think I hear the earth tremble,” he said. “I think he is not far off.”

“Mount me at once,” answered the horse, “and I will gallop as fast as I can.” He set off so fast that the earth seemed to fly from under his hooves.

“Look back once more,” said the horse after a short time, “and see if he is in sight.”

“I see a cloud and a flame,” answered the prince, “but far away.”

“We must make haste,” said the horse. Shortly after, he said, “Look back again. He cannot be far off now.”

The prince turned in his saddle and exclaimed, “He is close behind us! In a moment the flame from his horse’s nostrils will reach us.”

“Then throw the brush on the ground,” said the horse.

The prince threw it. In an instant the brush turned into such a thick forest that even a bird could not get through it. When the old man reached it, the roan horse stopped and could not go a step into the thick tangle. So the magician had to go back, fetch an axe, and cut a path through the wood. That took some time, and during that time the prince and the black horse got far ahead.

But once more they heard the sound of pursuing feet. “Look back,” said the black horse, “and see if he is following.”

“Yes,” answered the prince, “this time I hear him clearly.”

“Let us hurry,” said the horse. A little later he said, “Look back now and see if he is in sight.”

“Yes,” said the prince, turning around. “I see the flame. He is close behind us.”

“Then throw down the whip,” answered the horse.

In the twinkling of an eye, the whip turned into a broad river. When the old man reached it, he urged the roan horse into the water. But as the water rose higher and higher, the magic flame that gave the magician all his power grew smaller and smaller. Then, with a fizz, it went out. The old man and the roan horse sank into the river and disappeared. When the prince looked around, they were gone.

“Now,” said the horse, “you may dismount. There is nothing more to fear, because the magician is dead. Beside that brook you will find a willow wand. Pick it up and strike the earth with it. The ground will open, and you will see a door at your feet.”

When the prince struck the earth with the wand, a door appeared. It opened into a large vaulted stone hall.

“Lead me into that hall,” said the horse. “I will stay there. But you must go through the fields until you reach a garden. In the middle of the garden is a king’s palace. When you get there, ask to be taken into the king’s service. Good-bye, and do not forget me.”

So they parted. But first the horse made the prince promise not to let anyone in the palace see his golden hair. So he tied a scarf around his head like a turban. Then the prince set out through the fields until he reached a beautiful garden. Beyond the garden he saw the walls and towers of a stately palace. At the garden gate he met the gardener, who asked him what he wanted.

“I want to work for the king,” replied the prince.

“Well, you may stay and work under me in the garden,” said the man. Because the prince was dressed like a poor man, the gardener did not realize he was a king’s son. “I need someone to weed the ground and sweep dead leaves from the paths. You will have a gold coin each day, a horse to help you cart away the leaves, and food and drink.”

So the prince agreed and began his work. But when he was given food, he ate only half. He carried the rest to the vaulted hall beside the brook and gave it to the black horse. He did this every day, and the horse thanked him for his faithful friendship.

One evening, after his work was done, the horse said to him, “Tomorrow a large company of princes and lords will come to the king’s palace. They are coming from far and near as suitors for the three princesses. They will all stand in a row in the courtyard.

The three princesses will come out, each carrying a diamond apple. They will throw their apples into the air. Whichever prince the apple lands at the feet of will be the bridegroom of that princess. You must be close by in the garden, working.

The apple of the youngest princess, who is the most beautiful, will roll past all the suitors and stop in front of you. Pick it up at once and put it in your pocket.”

The next day, when all the suitors were gathered in the courtyard, everything happened just as the horse had said. The princesses threw their apples into the air. The diamond apple of the youngest princess rolled past all the suitors, out into the garden, and stopped at the feet of the young gardener, who was busy sweeping leaves.

In a moment he bent down, picked up the apple, and put it in his pocket. As he bent over, the scarf around his head slipped a little to one side, and the princess caught a glimpse of his golden hair. She loved him from that moment.

But the king was very sad, because his youngest daughter was his favorite. Still, there was no help for it. The next day a threefold wedding was celebrated at the palace. After the wedding, the youngest princess returned with her husband to the small hut in the garden where he lived.

Some time later, the people of a neighboring country went to war with the king. The king set out to battle, accompanied by the husbands of his two eldest daughters, who rode stately horses. But the husband of the youngest daughter had only the old broken-down horse that helped him in the garden. The king was ashamed of this son-in-law and refused to give him another horse.

Determined not to be left behind, the prince went into the garden, mounted the sorry nag, and set out. But he had ridden only a few yards when the horse stumbled and fell. So he dismounted and went down to the brook, where the black horse lived in the vaulted hall. The horse said to him, “Saddle and bridle me. Then go into the next room. You will find a suit of armor and a sword. Put them on, and we will ride together to battle.”

The prince did as he was told. When he had mounted the horse, his armor glittered in the sun. He looked so brave and handsome that no one would have recognized him as the gardener who swept away the dead leaves. The horse carried him away at great speed.

When they reached the battlefield, they saw that the king was losing the battle. Many of his warriors had been killed. But when the warrior on the black charger in glittering armor appeared, hacking left and right with his sword, the enemy became afraid and fled in all directions.

The king was master of the field. The king and his two sons-in-law shouted when they saw their rescuer. All that was left of the army joined in the cry: “A god has come to our rescue!” They tried to surround him, but his black horse rose into the air and carried him out of their sight.

Soon after, part of the country rose in rebellion against the king. Once again the king and his two sons-in-law had to go to battle. The son-in-law who was disguised as a gardener wanted to fight too. So he came to the king and said, “Dear father, let me ride with you to fight your enemies.”

“I do not want a fool like you to fight for me,” answered the king. “Besides, I do not have a horse fit for you. But look, there is a carter on the road hauling hay. You may take his horse.”

So the prince took the carter’s horse, but the poor beast was old and tired. After a few yards it stumbled and fell. The prince returned sadly to the garden and watched the king ride forth at the head of the army, accompanied by his two sons-in-law.

When they were out of sight, the prince went to the vaulted chamber by the brook. After talking to the faithful black horse, he put on the glittering armor and was carried through the air on the horse’s back to where the battle was being fought.

Once again he routed the king’s enemies, hacking to right and left with his sword. Again they all cried: “A god has come to our rescue!” But when they tried to stop him, the black horse rose into the air and carried him out of their sight.

When the king and his sons-in-law returned home, they could talk of nothing but the hero who had fought for them. Everyone wondered who he could be.

Shortly after, the king of a neighboring country declared war. Once more the king, his sons-in-law, and his subjects prepared for battle. Once more the prince begged to ride with them, but the king said he had no horse to spare. “But,” he added, “you may take the woodcutter’s horse that brings wood from the forest. It is good enough for you.”

So the prince took the woodcutter’s horse, but it was so old and useless that it could not carry him beyond the castle gates. So he went once more to the vaulted hall. There the black horse had prepared an even more magnificent suit of armor than before.

When the prince had put it on and mounted the horse, the horse carried him straight to the battlefield. Once again he scattered the king’s enemies, fighting alone in their ranks, and they fled in all directions.

But it happened that one of the enemies struck the prince in the leg with his sword. The king took his own pocket handkerchief, embroidered with his name and crown, and tied it around the wounded leg.

The king wanted to make him get into a litter and be carried to the palace, with two knights leading the black horse to the royal stables. But the prince put his hand on the mane of his faithful horse and managed to pull himself into the saddle.

The horse rose into the air with him. Then everyone shouted, “The warrior who fought for us is a god! He must be a god!”

Throughout the kingdom, nothing else was talked about. All the people said, “Who can the hero be who has fought for us in so many battles? He cannot be a man. He must be a god.”

The king said, “If only I could see him once more. If it turns out that he is a man after all, I will reward him with half my kingdom.”

When the prince reached home—the gardener’s hut where he lived with his wife—he was weary and lay down on his bed to sleep. His wife noticed the handkerchief tied around his wounded leg and wondered what it could be.

She looked at it closely and saw in the corner that it was embroidered with her father’s name and the royal crown. So she ran straight to the palace and told her father. He and his two sons-in-law followed her back to her house. There the gardener lay asleep on his bed.

The scarf that he always wore around his head had slipped off, and his golden hair gleamed on the pillow. They all recognized that this was the hero who had fought and won so many battles for them.

Then there was great rejoicing throughout the land. The king rewarded his son-in-law with half of his kingdom. And he and his wife reigned happily over it.