In a land far away named Ciudas there lived a miller and his daughter. They were living well off, until an arsonist broke into their home. Their home was connected to the back of the mill. The mill and their home, save for the stone grinder and the lower brick walls, were constructed completely of wood. The fire ruined the mill irreparably.
Fortunately for the two, they were in another town at the miller’s brother’s funeral when it had happened. When they arrived, they found that they had no way of making money, and that their trip had cost all of the money that had left. They only had what they had taken with them to the funeral. They sold every piece of clothing that they had, except for the ones they were wearing and a brush. They also sold all of the jewelry that had once belonged to the daughter’s mother, save for two pieces. Her wedding ring and a silver chain necklace with a flower pendant made of gold that had been given to the mother as a wedding gift. They were far too sentimental for the daughter to even think of parting with, it was all she had left of the woman. This gave them six gold coins in total.
They used the several pieces of gold that they had earned from selling everything to buy three things. A small run down cottage at the edge of a forest with a leaky roof took five gold coins. A spinning wheel took half of one, and the lumpiest, coarsest wool took the remaining half. Fortune smiled on them after their catastrophe because although it took the father an hour to walk from town to the house, the roof leaked when it rained, and there wasn’t much food for them to eat, there was a little cart with the cottage hidden under years of cobwebs and dust in the back room. There was also good fireplace, a few eating utensils, and pots that needed to be washed and freed from dust. Also an old axe sat in the corner of the front room.
The father could use this cart to go back and forth each day with some materials for the girl to spin. His stomach was always growling and his clothes were soaked with sweat, but he was happy to do this one job. His daughter spun every day from dawn until dusk. She never paused for food or water to spin the lumpy coarse wool and the dry splintered flax her father bought the best thread that she could. This only gave them a total profit of a few copper pieces. That was barely enough to buy the food they needed everyday.
After a few weeks of such a life the girl set down her spinning after another hard day’s work. She wiped her grimy dirty forehead with the back of her hand. Her fingers were raw and numb. Her hair was coated in sweat, dirt, and leaves. While it had once been the color of the lightest brown sugar, it was nearly black from dust and soot. It was raw and tangled. Her brush lay in the corner, gathering dust; she could no longer work it through the tangled tresses. Her eyes had once been a bright green, but were now dulled from famine and tiredness. Her body ached and several rings showed under her eyes. The dress she wore, which was worn and threadbare, had once been called navy and had fit her perfectly with a modest silk sash. Now a black cord kept it on her waist and the cloth was baggy and looked gray.
She walked towards the joke of a kitchen, back aching and legs stiff. She pulled out the meager showings of food her father had brought home that morning. Her weak fingers began to prepare that night’s supper.
In the mornings he would wake before dawn and arrive at town to sell the spindles of thread she had spun the previous day. Then he would barter for more spools, food and supplies. When he came home she would be preparing her wheel and then make breakfast with some of the food. They would eat it, but never be satisfied with the meal. Then she would spin all day while her father worked his body to chop wood from the forest for the fire she needed to cook with, along with wood to improve the house’s condition. At dusk he would come in from the day and they would eat another simple and unfulfilling meal. There was no market for wood in the town that made the extra effort of carting the logs to town worth the effort.
So was the schedule they followed every day, including that one. After supper they went to bed and slept for ten hours, but woke more exhausted and sore the next morning. The next morning when the father came back from his early excursion to town, she saw something other then weariness and exhaustion in his eyes. It was concern, pride, and anxiety.
“Father, what’s the matter?” Her throat cried for water, and she appeased it. Taking a sip of dirty river water that made her sick from a chipped ceramic mug she waited expectantly for his answer. He took a minute before speaking; also taking a drink of the river water he had carried in that morning in an abject bucket.
“I don’t know really. When I went to sell your thread, someone from the king’s castle was there and remarked at how mediocre it was,” he sighed before seating himself in a rickety old chair, “He looked at me with scorn like I was beneath his feet when I made a remark back,” he used a dirt stained and blistered hand to rub at his forehead.
“What did you say, Father?” She asked, inviting him to continue. She put a pot on the stove out of habit to start cooking breakfast. He moved to place the cracked plates and stained silverware on the table.
“Well, I told him that it was made from materials that even the best spinners would turn down. And the fact that it came out decent was amazing enough. I said that if you could get your hands on better materials you could make it fit for use in the king’s clothes.”
She shrugged as she put food onto the cast iron skillet. “I don’t why you sound so worried, Father. It’s probably true.” In fact, it was the truth. Over the past month her skill at spinning had become so good that she rivaled the royal spinner.
“Yes, Sonja. I know that it is. But, I guess I was tired, worn, and weary from hunger and all this labor. I said something really stupid to wipe that disapproving look of his face. I said that you could spin straw into gold.” He looked up at his daughter, and she could see he was trying to apologize for the claim. They both knew that she couldn’t. “I let my foolish pride take over. I’m so sorry.” He rested his forehead in his hand and a few tears wet the worn table.
“What,” she began, forgiving her father for his actions. She knew it had been hard on him, and that she might have said the same thing in his position, “did he say to that?” Sonja was curious as to the reaction of a royal courtier. The fact that he was in town didn’t shock her. Their town was really close to the castle and had a reputation for some of the finest threads. Anything bought here wouldn’t be used by the king, but the servants in the castle.
“He seem intrigued by the notion and asked me my name, your name, and where I lived. I told him everything, I was annoyed and just wanted to get home. I’m afraid he’ll tell the king and then...I don’t know.”
Sonja nodded her head, agreeing with him. “Well, we’ll have to prepare ourselves,” she sat down, placing the scraps of food on the table. “The king’ll probably want me to come to the castle and spin for him. We’ll have to tell him something so I can get away. I don’t want to lie to the king, but still...” she pursed her lips and ate her food thoughtfully, “I know. I’ll tell him I need to work at night and without anyone in the same room. I’ll also need a window for the moonlight. That’s magical you know. Then I’ll escape that night. If I’m lucky I might be able to get some gold so...” she stopped and shook her head, “I’ll just leave by myself. I won’t take anything, it’s bad enough I’ll have to lie.” Sonja sighed and put the dirty plates into the sink and poured some of the river water over them, “Maybe the truth would be best, though.”
She cleaned them and sat down in front of her wheel and began work. Her father hung around the house that day and tried to fix all the leaky holes in the roof, but that didn’t work very well; there were almost more holes then roof.
That very day, a little after noon, there was the sound of horses running and wheels. Sonja and her father looked at the door and stood up, trying to wipe as much dirt off of themselves as they could. A minute later there was a knock on the door. The miller opened the door and was greeted by the king’s advisor, a few feet behind him was the king himself. Sonja stared in shock at him. He was handsome, well dressed and in his brown eyes there was something that made her gasp when he looked at her. She quickly adverted her gaze and paid attention to the transaction between her father and the advisor.
“Are you the miller, Dante?”
The miller nodded his head worriedly, “Yes.”
“And are you Sonja, the girl that can spin straw into gold?”
Sonja started, “Well, I’m Sonja. But...”
Her father interrupted her, “The thing about that is...”
“Is that not what you claimed earlier?”
“Well yes it is, but...”
The king nodded at the advisor, waved at the girl, and the two carriages behind them. Sonja pursed her lips and looked anxiously at the advisor. She bit her lip so hard that it had turned white.
“You two are to come with us to the castle, get in the second carriage. You’ll be escorted to different rooms. If what you said is a lie, you’ll both be killed.”
Sonja started; the truth wouldn’t help them now, at all. In fact it would hurt them more then a lie. At least they could try to escape, “Well, there are a few rules.” The king and the advisor looked sharply at her. She stumbled and had to remember what she was going to say.
Sonja took a deep breath to steady herself before beginning, “It’s a magical process, that shouldn’t be surprising. There are always rules with them. I can only work under direct moonlight. If anyone walks in on me while I’m working, all the straw I’ve spun into gold will turn back into straw. You’ll have to give my father a gold coin as well.”
The king nodded and shrugged. The advisor interpreted, “The king says that he’ll make sure that the rules are followed. Now you must come with me.”
The four entered the two separate carriages and it took them the remainder of the day to ride to the castle. When they reached the castle the two were escorted to different rooms. Sonja was lead away while Dante was told to stay for a few moments. The advisor spoke, “You will stay in the dungeons for the night.” A small leather pouch was tossed to Dante, in it was a golden coin, “Tomorrow you either be handed a copy of your release papers, or the orders for you and your daughter’s death.” He looked at the two guards nearby, “Take him away.” The king nodded to himself, this could only bring him gain. He’d either have quite a lot of gold, or he’d be short two crazy people.