Ardennia: The Unlikely Story of Cinderella's Prince

The Hobgoblin, the Bean Counter and the Minstrel

“We are just about out of cheese,” said Guy the day after they left the palace.

“We can live without cheese,” said Henry.

“I can’t. At the next opportunity let’s ask a local where we can find a cheese monger,” said Guy.

“Alright,” said Henry as they stopped in a fork in the road.

“Which way?” asked Guy.

“I’m guessing right,” said Henry.

“Okay we go right, but the day is late and if this is the wrong way it’ll be dark before we can retrace our steps,” Guy said.

“The same holds true if we go left.”

They continued on the road that forked to the right and soon came upon some peasants scything grass to lay up as winter feed for their stock.

“Hail there! Will this road take us to the manor of the Viscount of Amienios?” asked Henry from a distance of some thirty paces.

“Yes, but you’ll have to pass through a ravine first,” shouted one of the peasants.

“And a hobgoblin lives there so watch out for your animals, especially that goat,” shouted another peasant.

“Maybe we should turn back,” said Guy to Henry

“There are no such things as hobgoblins,” said Henry.

“Said the man who doesn’t own a goat,” retorted Guy.

“How much further is it to the ravine?” shouted Henry.

“A league or so,” shouted the first peasant.

“And are there any cheese mongers about?” shouted Guy.

“Marcel makes cheese. He lives just off the road to the left about halfway to the ravine,” shouted a third peasant.

“Many thanks,” shouted Henry.

“Don’t think of it,” shouted the first peasant.

Henry and Guy rode until they came to Marcel’s place. There they purchased a large wheel of Munster cheese and hurried on their way because dusk was approaching and they hoped to get through the ravine before dark. Unfortunately the ravine was much longer than they expected and they had to make camp in it.

“This is great; we are making our bivouac in a hobgoblin´s backyard,” complained Guy.

“We are in no danger, neither is Adele. But for peace of mind you can tether her right by the campfire,” said Henry.

“You bet I’ll tether her by the campfire; and I’ll keep the fire blazing all night.”

“Well we better gather a lot of firewood then,” said Henry.

So they gathered a lot of firewood, ate their meal, tethered Adele, laid out their bedrolls and fell fast asleep, leaving the fire to burn out. But Guy had only pretended to fall asleep and, when the hobgoblin tiptoed into the camp to steal Adele, Guy caught it red-handed.

“Got you!” Guy crowed.

“Forsooth you do,” said the hobgoblin, who was not a hobgoblin at all but a wizened old man with a long beard and attired in a tattered garb.

“What’s going on?” asked Henry, waking up and rubbing his eyes.

“I caught the. . . supposed hobgoblin,” answered Guy.

“Supposed?” Henry said.

“Yes, it seems he is just an old man,” said Guy.

“A very old man and hermit at that,” corrected the hermit.

“Is that so,” said Guy.

“Yes.”

“And how did you come to be a hermit?” asked Guy.

“It is a long story,” said the hermit.

“We have the time if you do,” said Guy.

“Very well; it all started when I lost the love of my life to an amorous monk and decided to take solace in becoming a monk in my own right. But that wasn’t enough for me. I found myself longing for the kind of solitude that would insulate me from society and allow me to contemplate the meaning of life without the distractions of sex, conversation and the mundane necessities of everyday intercourse. I wanted to liberate my mind, become acutely self-aware and exist as an ascetic being. I actually considered becoming an anchorite before I took to the life of a hermit.”

“What’s an anchorite?” asked Guy.

“Someone who anchors themselves in one place; usually a tiny cell that is bricked up leaving only a small window so the bare necessities can be given to them by charitable neighbors.”

“That sounds awful,” said Henry.

“It isn’t awful, it’s sublime. But as you can see I chose another path,” said the hermit.

“How long have you lived here in this ravine?” asked Guy.

“I have lost track,” said the hermit.

“And what do you use for shelter,” asked Henry.

“A cave that once must have been inhabited by hunters,” answered the hermit.

“Why do you say that?” asked Guy.

“Because there were animal bones scattered everywhere and wall paintings of deer, aurochs and horses with spears in them,” the hermit answered.

“That is exceedingly odd,” said Guy.

“Odd or not, they are the only creatures I commune with except for the chipmunks and hares and songbirds that share this ravine with me.”

“So you commune with the hares but sustain yourself by filching the occasional goat,” said Guy.

“And eating what roots and mushrooms I can find. It’s a curse this stomach we are born with,” said the hermit.

“I disagree. I think filling your stomach is one of the great pleasures of life,” said Guy.

“You would, for you have not attained true enlightenment,” said the hermit.

“And I hope I never do,” retorted Guy.

“On the subject of stomachs, are you too enlightened to eat a piece of cheese?” asked Henry.

“Cheese, I haven’t eaten any cheese in decades,” said the hermit.

“Well, we have an entire wheel of Munster and are willing to share it,” said Henry.

“That is most generous but I fear eating cheese would corrupt me,” said the hermit.

“Then what can we offer you, for you can’t have Adele,” said Guy.

“Who’s Adele?”

“She is the goat you tried to pilfer,” said Guy.

“Oh. . . then I would be happy to accept some bread leavened with sawdust or a handful of lentils,” said the hermit.

“We have neither but I can give you some half rotten apples we were going to throw away,” said Guy.

“That would be perfect,” said the hermit.

So, Guy gave the hermit the apples and the hermit retreated to his cave while Guy and Henry went back to sleep. The next morning they got an early start and arrived at the manor house of the Viscount of Amienois before midday. Henry was able to meet with the daughter of the Viscount in the manor’s luscious garden. There was verdant shrubbery of every kind, fruit trees and flowers that ranged from sweet smelling lavenders to ten foot tall sunflowers. The bees were making heavy work as Henry and Claudette sat on one of the garden’s benches.

“This is a delightful place,” said Henry.

“And fitting for a tryst,” said Claudette coyly.

“Speaking of ‘fitting’, would I offend you if I asked you to try on this slipper?” asked Henry, taking out the slipper and getting right to the point.

“Whatever for?” she asked.

“I’d like to confirm that you are the one who said ‘find me’,” said Henry.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“Are you sure you don’t understand or are you just trying to test me to my very limits,” said Henry.

“I. . . I wouldn’t mind trying on the slipper. It looks quite pretty,” Claudette said.

Henry knelt on one knee, removed Claudette’s left shoe and tried to put her foot into the slipper. Her foot was too big.

“Damnation,” said Henry under his breath.

“What was that?” asked Claudette.

“Creation, what a wonderful creation a woman’s foot is,” said Henry.

“Oh.”

“And so are these flowers and the bees that are pollinating them. You have a real Garden of Eden here,” said Henry.

“Complete with an Adam and Eve,” said Claudette, putting her shoe back on.

“I’m not so sure I would make a good Adam for you,” said the Prince.

“You never know,” she said, taking him off guard and kissing him on the lips.

It was a sweet kiss and not to Henry’s dislike. Once again he had a moment of weakness and wondered if he was crazy for spurning the affection of such a beautiful and charming woman in favor of some elusive wisp of an ideal love.

“Now it’s your turn to kiss me,” said Claudette.

Henry hesitated.

“Don’t you want to?” she asked.

“I want to but I can’t,” said Henry.

“Why not?”

“Because my heart belongs to another.”

“What!”

“My heart belongs to another.”

This, apparently, was too much for Claudette. She slapped his face and ran into the manor house, leaving him to find his own way out of the Garden of Eden.

Guy greeted Henry when he exited the garden with what was getting to be the usual aplomb.

“Not the one,” said Guy.

“Not the one,” said Henry.

They rode off eastward – having exhausted the possibilities of Picardy – in the direction of Comte and the daughters of the barons and baronets who dwelled there. They rode deliberately, knowing they would have to pace themselves during the long journey back across Picardy and the southern region of Ardennia. The following day they reached the shores of the River Oise and once again had to wait on the ferryman. Waiting with them were an apothecary and a bean counter. They were playing dice and the bean counter was losing.

“Double or nothing,” said the bean counter.

“You have nothing left to bet,” said the apothecary.

“I’ll put up my nag,” said the bean counter.

“Okay. It’s my roll,” said the apothecary.

The apothecary rolled, established his number; rolled again and won.

“Crap,” said the bean counter.

“It’s not your day I guess,” said the apothecary.

“Let’s go again. I’ll put up my gold tooth against the nag you just won,” said the bean counter.

“Open your mouth and let me see it,” said the apothecary.

The bean counter opened his mouth and the apothecary inspected the gold tooth.

“That’s a gold tooth alright, you’re on,” said the apothecary.

Once more the apothecary rolled, established his number; rolled again and won.

“Double crap,” said the bean counter.

“I know a barber on the other side of the river who can extract that tooth for us,” said the apothecary.

“Great,” said the bean counter.

“I’ve never seen a man lose a tooth in a game of Hazard,” said Guy to Henry.

“Is that what they call it?” said Henry.

“Yes; and it’s very addictive. I’m pretty good at it, but I would advise you to stay away from dice,” Guy said.

“If you are so good at it, why don’t you win the bean counter’s tooth back for him,” suggested the Prince.

“Because I’m short of coin,” said Guy.

“I’ll back you,” said Prince Henry.

“Alright. . . Apothecary,” Guy said.

“What, Sir Knight, for you look like a knight to me,” answered the Apothecary.

“Would you hazard to play a game of Hazard with me?” asked Guy, glancing back at Henry to see if he had appreciated the play on words.

“Certainly; what are you willing to stake?” asked the apothecary.

“I’ll stake one gold crown against the bean counter’s tooth,” said Guy.

“That’s a fair bet. Do you wish to be the shooter?”

“Yes,” said Guy.

Guy rolled, established his number; rolled again and won.

“Congratulations good knight. The tooth is yours. Would you like to try your luck again?”

“No thank you,” said Guy, giving the dice back to the apothecary.

“Do you know of a barber on the other side of the river who can extract my tooth?” asked the bean counter.

“You may keep your tooth,” said Guy.

The bean counter thanked Sir Guy and promptly lost the tooth back to the apothecary and the ferry came anon. After the crossing it took Guy and Henry six days to reach the border between Ardennia and Comte. They bivouacked for the night a few leagues on the Ardennian side and started out bright and early the next morning for Comte. To relieve the monotony of their seventh day in a row on the road they counted mole hills; Henry counted mole hills on one side of the road and Guy counted mole hills on the other side of the road. Henry won by a count of twenty-one to eighteen. Then they took turns telling each other what they thought the fluffy cumulus clouds overhead looked like.

“That looks like Adele,” said Guy, pointing to a puffy cloud that was beginning to break apart.

“That one looks like a ship,” said Henry, pointing to a ship-like cloud.

“I don’t see it,” said Guy.

“Are we looking at the same cloud? Because I see a prow, a stern and a mast quite distinctly,” said Henry.

“I still don’t see it; but that one over there looks like Adele too,” said Guy, pointing to a smaller cloud that at best resembled a goat without its head, tail and two of its legs.

“I don’t see that,” said Henry.

“Do you see the one that looks like a castle?” asked Guy.

“Yes, that really does look like a castle,” said Henry.

“What about the one that resembles a face over there?” said Guy, pointing to the cloud with a face.

“I see it; there are two eyes, a mouth and one ear,” said Henry.

“What else do you see?” asked Guy, squinting his eyes in search of another interesting cloud.

“There’s one that looks like the dancing bear from the festival,” said Henry, pointing to the dancing bear cloud.

“That’s no bear. That’s a fish,” said Guy.

“I don’t think your eyesight is as good as it used to be, I am sorry to say,” said Henry.

“Maybe you’re right, let’s challenge each other with riddles instead. I’ll start.”

“By all means,” said Henry.

“What has to be broken before it can be used?” asked Guy.

“Let’s see; broken before it can be used – an egg,” said Henry.

“Or a ‘wild horse’, either answer works. Your turn,” said Guy.

“What is always in front of you but can’t be seen?” asked Henry

“The future, that’s too easy. . . What can you keep after you give it to someone?” asked Guy.

“Your heart,” said Henry.

“I suppose that works if you accept a double meaning for ‘heart’. I think ‘a promise’ is a better answer but who’s keeping score,” said Guy.

“What goes up and never comes down?” asked Henry quickly before Guy changed his mind about keeping score.

“The answer to that is the tragedy we call life. Just when you are getting warmed up and know what you’re doing your life is coming to an end. You don’t get the time to make use of your wisdom or enjoy your prosperity. Nothing works right anymore; you lose your vision, you lose your hearing, you can barely walk, you can’t remember things, your sense of taste dulls, your libido withers on the vine; why - because what goes up but doesn’t come down is our age.”

Guy’s tirade against age put an end to the riddling, and they rode toward Comte through the rich Ardennian farmland where ripe lentils were ready for picking. Every now and then Guy and Henry would see a pair or a trio of peasants working over a lentil patch for every pod it had. They ate some of the pods as they picked them and they tossed the rest into a basket. Next to one of these lentil patches that were being harvested a beekeeper was smoking out a hive and extracting honeycombs.

“Let’s get some of those honeycombs. They will kill two birds with one stone,” said Guy.

“Alright,” said Henry.

They rode up to the woman, got her attention and asked if her honeycombs were for sale.

“Of course they are. Do you think I can eat all these honeycombs myself?” she said.

“Name your price then,” said Henry.

“You are some negotiator,” said Guy to Henry.

“Three combs for a denier and I’ll wrap them in a mullein leaf for you,” said the woman.

Henry gave her the denier and she gave Henry the three combs wrapped in a mullein leaf, and the two sojourners retook the road.

“So what else are we going to use the honeycomb for, aside from eating it?” asked Henry.

“We are going to use the beeswax in it to stuff our ears,” said Guy.

“Why would we want to stuff our ears?” the Prince asked.

“Don’t you remember that I told you there are pixies in Comte? Guy asked.

“Vaguely, but I didn’t take it seriously,” said Henry.

“Well I was dead serious, and if we want to be secure when we sleep out in the Comte woods we are going to need our ears stuffed.”

“Why?”

“Because pixies can whisper suggestions to you while you sleep; innocent ones like ‘scratch your butt’ and not so innocent ones like ‘poke your eye out with a dagger’,” said Guy.

“That’s absurd,” said Henry.

“Tell that to my friend with the eye patch,” said Guy.

“So you are going to plug your ears with beeswax every night?” asked Henry.

“I am and you should too,” Guy said emphatically.

Not long after Guy’s dissertation on pixies, a minstrel approached them on his ass. He had a dulcimer slung over his shoulder and a flute in the pocket of his faded green jacket. Guy saluted him and asked him if he was coming from Comte.

“I am,” said the minstrel.

“And how did things go for you there?” asked Guy.

“Very profitably,” said the minstrel.

“Really?” asked Guy.

“Yes.”

“Did you perform at a baron’s feast?” asked Guy.

“No.”

“At the wedding of a rich burgher’s daughter?”

“No, nothing like that,” said the minstrel.

“How did you come by your profit, if I might ask?” asked Guy.

“I saved the inhabitants in the eastern Comte from a giant,” the minstrel said.

“How now, is that true?” said Guy.

“True as an arrow shot by Robinette the Hooded,” said the minstrel.

“And how did you manage to do that?” asked Guy.

“I pulled a thorn out of the big toe of the giant’s right foot.”

“How did you get close enough to pull out the thorn without being stepped on or eaten?” asked Guy.

“I charmed him with a tune from my magic flute,” said the minstrel.

“Then you pulled out the thorn,” said Guy.

“Yes, it wasn’t easy though. The thorn was as long as a man’s arm and lodged very deeply and every time I set down my flute to pull on it with both hands the giant began to come out of his stupor. I finally succeeded, and afterward the grateful giant promised never to harass the population of eastern Comte again. As a reward for my services the locals gave me a pouch of silver coins.”

“Did you have any problems with pixies?” asked Guy.

“What pixies?” the minstrel asked.

“Never mind, fare thee well,” said Guy.

“Fare thee well,” said the minstrel.

“Either I’m wrong about the pixies or he was telling a tall tale about the giant,” said Guy.

“I think you’re wrong about the pixies,” said Henry.

“So you believed him?” asked Guy.

“Not a word,” said Henry.